NationStates Jolt Archive

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There is no way to explain it.

There are no words that can fully describe the deep feeling that comes from the love of something. Without experiencing it, you cannot even imagine how it feels.

How can you love something inanimate? Unresponisve to you, unreturning in the slightest of your sentiments. Like everyone says, its just a car.

But, if it’s just a car then…

How does someone explain the goose bumps that ripple over your skin as you see it drive by? How can you describe why you get tears as it flies by, exhaust note echoing off the concrete of the highway over pass? What do you say to someone as you drop a conversation just to get one good look of that very special thing? What answer do you give to “why do you want that so much?” How can you explain why something of metal and synthetics, leather and rubber, fueled by dead dinosaurs can be, to you, of grater beauty than anything living? How do you tell someone why you would give up everything just for that one moment, that one brief point in time where you are in control of that beauty? What do you say to someone who doesn’t understand?

It’s simple.

You don’t.

They just wouldn’t get it.

It goes beyond the physical. For beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The box shape of the rally bred Mitsubishi Evolution, the bird of prey swoop of the Pontiac Trans Am, the graceful and elegant lines of the Ferrari F430.

It goes beyond the heart of the machine. Love can come in many shapes. The endless amount of pull from the 2JZ-GTE with a big single, the raw and unrefined roar from a Short Block Chevy, the Lamborghini that sounds like an F1 car at full charge.

It is more than just the personality. Everyone can find something to match them. The refined and elegant lines of the European super luxuries, the angry and harsh power of the big block V8, the quirky and fun styling of a Japanese pocket rocket.

No, it is personal. It is something that just can’t be explained. It is something that words will never do justice. There is no waxing poetic about the joy of a winding back road. No prayers of worship to the thousand horsepower dyno chart. No hours of ogling the newest German office-on-wheels. It is not something you can express, not something you see, not even something you hear. It goes far beyond that; it’s Personal.

The love of cars is unique to every person. To one, it is the supple feel of soft leather as you ease yourself into the driver’s seat of the newest, most expensive luxury coach. To others, it is the ability to extend yourself, to be connected to something that is purely you. To many, it’s the pride you feel in spending hours upon hours to get the final shine that you love so much. And to a select few, it’s the adrenaline ripping through your veins as you sit on the dark, empty road, waiting for the flagger to drop their arms, and find out if you have what it takes to be the fastest.

It is not one thing that draws us to this passion, this desire, this love. After all, who can explain love? All we know for certain is one thing, that we love cars. And that no matter what anyone says, no matter what anyone does, we who love cars will always love cars. It is a love that no one can explain.

But in the end, you find you don’t have to explain it. Because you know what it is, you know how it feels.

That is all that matters.
____

Liberty City. It is hardly the name for a city. But that is exactly what this city was. Where,liberty, in a military sense was had. It is not our place to question the nature of the name. And honestly, we really don't care, do we?
The main transportation hub showed an equal lack of imagination in it's naming
TMZ International Airport.

But again, what are we to care how it is named? What is of importance is the event to be held at the airport. In just over a month, international flights will be pouring in and out of the some what oddly stylish and very moderne- but most of all immense - airport. People will trample thru, day in and day out, heading to and from vacations, business meetings, and other duties.

But now, the airport is empty. The runways bare. The lobbies and waiting areas devoid of travelers. Yet it is busy. Full of the bustling that comes in preparation for what promises to be the most important event to take ever take place on this spot.

The TMZ Automotive Excellence Exposition.

The whole country was awash with excitement and anticipation over the automotive exposition. Though this was a bit unusual for a nation formed of hardened vetrans from a war that had last over a decade, but still it was all they could talk about, save for the knowing nods passed around when the superpower known as AutoMagFreek laid down the law to British Londinium.

But locally nothing topped the nightly updates of how the preperations for the exposition developed. The list of nations exhibiting in the Exposition grew ever longer and some had already arrived, given their nations geographical closeness. Other were set to arrive any hour now.

One Captain Abagail Hardcastle was just about a walking zombie, despite her fresh, and frankly lovely appearance. She had been given the task of oversighting the entire fandangle. "This is what I get for being the General's daughter" She laughed wearily to herself as yet another massive transport plane landed at HQ Military Airfield and began disgorging another parade of exotic vehicles.

Her driver, a temporary perk of her postiion, drove her pel mell to TMZIA, making it there just ahead of the long convoy of car haulers. They had been driving with careful professionalism, the haulers very cognizant of the millions of dollars and hours of loving effort those cars represented.

TMZIA wasw ready for them though, with every display space finished, carpets vaccumes, barrier rails polished to a high gleam, and countless mini cherry pickers standing by to adjust the over head lighting so that each vehicle was perfectly displayed.

From left to right
the first and second are views of the two 'crossbar' ends of the concourse. The Concourse is shaped like a capitol H with the cross bar protruding though on either side. The third is a view of the multilevel covered driveway that circles around the interior of the lower half of the H. The last are the gardens that life between the drive and the center of the crossbar . Please click the thumbnails for larger views.

]http://www.atddm.com/tmza1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/tmza1.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/tmza6_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/tmza6.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/tmza5_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/tmza5.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/tmza7_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/tmza7.jpg)
From left to right
the first and second are views of the two 'crossbar' ends of the concourse. The Concourse is shaped like a capitol H with the cross bar protruding though on either side. The third is a view of the multilevel covered driveway that circles around the interior of the lower half of the H. The last are the gardens that life between the drive and the center of the crossbar . Please click the thumbnails for larger views.

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Viktor Helwulf (http://www.atddm.com/ro.jpg) looked up at the gleaming sign that hung over the assigned exhibit space and smiled. "Yes, I think this will do." He commented to his assisstant as he glanced lovingly over the cars spread out on their raised exhibition platforms. The deep emerald green and muted gold oriental hand woven that he had personally chosen did not detract from off the flawless paint jobs that bedecked the coachwork of each vehhicle. Each one had been hand polished till they glowed like fine jewels in the carefully aimed spotlights, their bright work mirrorlike in reflectivity.

The discrete plaques told the exhibition patrons the pertinent stats of each of the four vehicles he had brought.

The first of his custom vehicles...

The Valkyra, a sleekly sexy supercar that he hoped to bring to the attention of a very special person.

]http://www.atddm.com/ccb1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccb1.jpg) ]http://www.atddm.com/ccb2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccb2.jpg) ]http://www.atddm.com/ccb3_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccb3.jpg)

Frederick Davidson was there himself as he looked around from inside the store, it was all done, the branding, the pantry, fridges and freezers all stocked up. Everything was ready, it was a hard few days getting the kiosk ready, but it was ready and just a few more minutes until it finally opened.

For the first hour they would have a special deal. Purchase any BazaBurger meal and receive a warm salad for free. The team where there the management where there and most importantly the crew were there. Everything was set and Frederick was ready to have some fun.

His first port of call was the Verona plot, it wasn't far away and he knew that a personal friend of his Jason Atkinson were there. The Prospero Supreme and the Lear were on display but there was a white cloth covering the concept car, velvet rope on stands kept the audience at bay. Surely tantilitisingly waiting for the big reveal, but that would be later on, scheduled around 12 noon for when there would be alot of people there.

"So how's thing going, aw, we've had a few people looking but it hasn't gotten busy yet we're expect alot of locals as well as international visitors. So we'll just wait and see."

"You can't give me any ... uh... background information on the concept?"

"Huh, no, you know we're quite strict on that, if the boss found out, well you know."

"Well, I'll be here for when you reveal it."

"You know it won't be mass produced but it's more than the designers having fun. It should be interesting."

"Well see you later, I'll start wondering around see what else I can find."

Frederick started to leave before Jason got his attention one more time

"You going to watch the races, we've got a car in the hanger under going final preperations."

"Nah, you know I'm not interested in races though I'm sure someone will be there to barrack for you."

"Alright, well see you at noon."

"See you then."



Verona Badge:
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f387/Bazalonia/verona_badge.png

Verona Prospero Supreme Exterior:
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f387/Bazalonia/prospero-exterior.jpg

Verona Prospero Supreme Interior (please ignore the Honda badge :p):
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f387/Bazalonia/prospero-interior.jpg

Verona Lear:
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f387/Bazalonia/lear.jpg

The Alfegos transport plane roared in, coming in to land. It was one of the largest planes in the nation, with a wingspan of 98 metres, able to carry 3 Main battle tanks.

Instead, it had been fitted for the cars being taken: 2 AFC Firestorms and 2 AFC Infernos. Both were sports cars able to reach 210 mph easily. These would be showed in a hanger.

As the for the bedrooms, the upper deck of the transport had been fitted with accomodation for the 40 men who would be looking after the cars day and night.

The Tanaaran Automotive Consortium was pleased with their main display, it was on the second floor very close to that of Verona, out of Bazalonia. Not a nation in the Fatal Terrain region, but with excellently done automotives, Director Dinwiddie could tell at a glance. He looked back with a proud smile at the vehicles stretching out the length of the dark charcoal carpeting that had been chosen, then up at the Tanaaran flag hung from the high ceiling overhead. He threw a small salute at in the flags direction unselfconsciously and felt a wave of pride wash over him. Then briskly he turned to his next mission, which was introducing himself to his neighbors.

With that goal he headed over to the Verona exhibit across from the Bazaburger stand. He was planning to have one of their specials as his lunch, so he'd meet that gentleman in a moment. The scent of the first burgers coming off the grill was marvelous. Perhaps the government would authorize a franchise.

Stopping at the gentleman he'd seen talking to the BazaBurger manager.

"Hello, I'm Dan Dinwiddie, Director of the Tanaaran Automobile Registry. Our spots make us neighbors and I'd thought I'd come over and introduce myself." He held out a hand in friendly fashion as he continued "It looks as if you're going to introduce one yourself " He nodded first to the vehicle, covered by a spotlessly white cloth, in the Verona exhibit and then towards the empty spot in the Tanaaran display.

He hoped that they could work out a schedule for their reveals, so that they wouldn't conflict on timing.

The Afterburner Automotive CEO was very pleased with his display in Hanger 6, it showed the more radical designs that his company was producing. He was proud of the workers that had gone overtime to unload the cars and other stuff from the C-5 Galaxy that the Air Force had loaned Afterburner for this event. He was very excited to show the people the Afterburner Firebolt, a new sports car that was fuel efficient also. John Walsh looked around and smiled, his company had done this. They also had a car underneath a black cloth, that would be unveiled at noon. There was also two other cars, one was veiled, and one was not.

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url=http://www.atddm.com/fb3.jpg]http://www.atddm.com/fb3_small.jpg[/url]

Afterburner Automotive
Hangar 6
"Mister Walsh?" The young woman in TMZ's 'Relaxed Officer Attire'- neatly pressed deep indigo jeans and a custom polo a matching indigo blue that had a miniature TMZ flag on the upper left and Captain's insignia embroiderd on the points of the collar topping black cross trainers that bore no distracting logos - strode briskly up, a clipboard, thick with papers tucked under her left arm. She gave a half salute then held out her hand "I'm Captain Agabail Hardcastle and I just wanted to maek sure every thing was progressing properly."

She looked around, admiration evident on her face. "You have a wonderful layout here, and I am dieing for a closer look at your FireBolts."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alfegos Transport Plane

At the Headquarters Military Airfield Lieutenant WhiteBear approached the Alfegos Super Transport. His long strides, for the good captain stood nearly six foot eight, carried him effortlessly across the broad expanse of tarmac as he sought out the person in charge of the Alfegos contengent. Like his boss he too was in casual officer attire.

He needed to make sure that the Alfegans had every thing the needed and to offer them the apartments attached to the hanger they would be exhibiting in. It had been noted that they hadn't advised of how many beds they would be needing.

I'm well aware this post sucks, but I just need to get going and they'll get better. Promise.

A heavy shudder reverberated throughout the aircraft, the large transport setting down with little affair. It was just among the many coming in from Imitora, a nation who built street cars faster than most hyper cars, and was not afraid to use them. This specific model of transport taxied over to the spot is had been designated, and cleared back as the large nose began to swing up.

Ryan Fortier stepped down the ramp, stretching out as he did so. There was no special seating for the passengers, no luxury class for the few on board. Most had just sat on the bare metal flooring of the Airbus, sitting next to the cars they were transporting. He popped his neck, and took a good look around, pulling on his sunglasses as he did so. It wasn’t that bad of a flight, and he had spent most of his adult life in spartan transport aircraft, so why should now be any different.

He stepped to the side as a harsh bark like noise reverberated through the cavernous storage area of the Airbus, and watched as a liquid black Ford rolled down the unloading ramp. The large black man driving looked up at Fortier from the driver’s seat, and smiled. “So, we sticking to the same plan?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, you do the checking in with the show, I’ll head out and find us a place to crash.”

The sound of the Kenne Bell supercharged Cobra was Doc’s response, and it pulled away with little show, just smoothly accelerating towards the area exit. The high whine of the blower faded off into the distance as Ryan began issuing orders out to the rest of the crew. As they set about pulling out a few more cars, as well as the trailers for Ryan’s Hayabusa and Dominator, Ryan moved over to the deep blue Supra waiting for him. A few quick strap releases, and it was free.
___

The black Ford rolled up to the main entrance of the airport, where it looked as most of the other vehicles were pulling in. He offered himself a small chuckle as he noticed the lines of car transports unloading the vehicles. Most were covered, and the obvious set up told him that the cars rarely saw serious road time, and were just show vehicles.

Doc Henderson (http://www.nndb.com/people/632/000025557/ving5-sized.jpg) slipped out of the Cobra, and took another good look around. He was supposed to handle the check in, but that could be done later. First he wanted to find Rays and make sure the younger Imitoran was actually going to show up.

As he watched the unloading of some nation’s newest sports car, he sighed knowing it would hardly see any real road time. “Pussies,” he chuckled to himself, leaning against his car.

The burbling sound of a three and a half inch open exhaust, the whistle of a spooled turbo, and the assaulting smell of unburned C16 race gas snapped him around, and he watched the black Evo roll up. Doc nodded, and walked over to the Japanese four banger.

“Bout time you got here,” he chuckled.

“Not my bad. Traffic. Half the assholes around here think ninety to one ten is fast.” He shrugged. Rays Inamura Garrett (http://www.tmsdancer.com/ken_watanabe/photos/ken/ken_black_suit_closeup.jpg) shrugged and looked back at the Evo. “That thing hauls.”

The scent of the unburned C16 was an affront to any one who had even contemplated showing up the show with environmentally sound ideas. The Evo alone most likely polluted enough at full throttle to make up for a good handful of hybrids and ZEVs. And that’s the way Imitorans liked it. Ryan’s Supra was also running on C16, as was the Dominator. The other cars brought along by the Imitorans were mostly running on 98oct.

The two locked up their cars, and walked towards the main entrance, looking to check in.
___

Ryan had easily made his way away from the unloading transports, heading towards the highway. He was alone now, Charli would be arriving later that day. So, it was up to him to find a place to stay for the team.

He didn’t mind it, really. At times he relished in the alone time he got from driving, and the Supra, fresh of the dyno tune, was the perfect vehicle to do it in. Putting down over four digits at the rear wheels, yet sporting a full interior, is where the Supra excelled.

He had made his way onto the highway and towards the hotel district easily enough, using the mentally remembered images he had seen on city maps. The highway traffic moved at a decent clip, but for the most part, he stayed back, giving himself room. A few had made their intentions known, pacing him and hanging with him, but he waved them off. He didn’t want to hurt their pride. At least not yet.

With little effort, he selected a hotel, parked, and made his way into the lobby. He instantly found himself at conflict with the norm. The majority of the visible patrons were well dressed in suits and business clothing. Ryan stood out quite well in the black tee shirt that read ‘FSTRTHNU’ and well worn jeans marred by oil stains.

“Perfect,” he smiled to himself.

He walked up to the reception desk. A younger clerk soon walked over, and gave Ryan a once over.

“Yeah,” he said. “I need some rooms.”

Afterburner Automotive
Hanger 6

John Walsh smiled and shook Captain Hardcastle's hand and said "Things are going quite well, and I'll show you the Firebolt.." He unlocked it, with a squarish remote looking key fob, and said "I'll tell you an interesting thing about it, it has gullwing doors.." He opened both gullwing doors and it looked like this

http://www.atddm.com./fb1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/fb1.jpg)

He said "We've used a new way to shift automatically, we've used voice commands.."

Afterburner Automotive
Hanger 6

That caused Captain Hardcastle's eye brows to fly up! Her soft brown eyes sparkled with lively interest "My goodness. Thats incredible!" She leant over to get a good view of the interior, noticing the unique seats and the gear shiftless center console as well as the interestingly shaped steering wheel.

"It looks like you are going with many emerging technologies. But how does it handle accents? I've met some new recruits that have such thick accents they practically needed their own translator." She inquired with true curiosity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Main Concourse Second Level

General Hardcastle wandered the second level taking everything in with a faterly glwo of pride. He didn't practise nepotism, but it certainly looked as if his much loved daughter was a chip off the old block, and thorougly deserved her up coming promotion.
He wandered past a exhibitions space labeled New Owl Custom, and remembered that they were from Imitora, and that the owner, one Mister Thomas 'Hoot' Gibson was some one he needed to speak with, though he didn't see the any one about at the moment.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Gibson Hotel, Liberty City

“I need some rooms.”

The young clerk gave him a careful once over, but the smile was polite. "I'm afraid sir, that we only have suites available, and only a few unreserved. How many are in your party?" The tone was polite but carried a note of doubt, as the eyes took in what Ryan was wearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TMZIA, Main Check IN

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The voice was a warm U.S. southern drawl, coming straight from Tara's doric columned front steps. The person it came from couldn't have stood more than five foot four and wore Command Sergeant Major's insignia on the sleeve of her well tailored deep emerald noncoms polo. Dark red hair was pulled back into a tidy french braid and emerald green eyes gleamed up at them two men inquisitively. "The races aren't open to the general public, just exhibitor's." She added as she looked past them to the pair of high speed low drag cars they had arrived in.

T

With that goal he headed over to the Verona head of the Bazaburger stand. He was planning to have one of their specials as his lunch, so he'd meet that gentleman in a moment. The scent of the first burgers coming off the grill was marvelous. Perhaps the government would authorize a franchise.

"Hello, I'm Dan Dinwiddie, Director of the Tanaaran Automobile Registry. Our spots make us neighbors and I'd thought I'd come over and introduce myself." He held out a hand in friendly fashion as he continued "It looks as if you're going to introduce one yourself " He nodded first to the vehicle, covered by a spotlessly white cloth, in the Verona exhibit and then towards the empty spot in the Tanaaran display.

He hoped that they could work out a schedule for their reveals, so that they wouldn't conflict on timing.

"I'm Jason Atkinson." Jason replied meeting Dan's out streched hand with a hand of his own, a firm but not too strong a grip evolved into a shake of the hands. "Exhibition manager." Following Dan's look over his shoulder to the concept car under the shroud.

"Yeah, planning the reveal for noon... Am I right to say that you are also going to reveal a concept car? What time are you planning for? Would be a shame to hold it at the same time."

Verona

"Pleased to meet you, Jason. If you are going to do yours at noon, then I'll wait till say five, catch the just comming for dinner crowd. And that will giv e you plenty iof time in the media spot light. Oh and speaking of that"

He stepped a little closer and lowered his voice. "I have heard that Jolt MJedia, a really obnoxious pack of carriorn crawling yellow journalists are here and looking for what ever they can find. They give the region a black eye journalistically speaking. I'd keep a sharp eye out."

He looked about nervously, something that was not common to his usually imperterbably nature, but he was very accurate in his asssessment of Jolt's low brow, low ethics antcs.

Ryan thought about it for a short moment. "Uh. Lets go with six to be safe."

He eyed the clerk back, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "Yeah, six is about right. And they need to be bigger, planning on having people over."

He grabed a starburst mint out of a bowl on the counter, and popped it in his mouth. "And suites work just fine for me. Ya'll got covered parking that isn't vallet around here?"
___

Rays gave the CSM an appriciative look, but Doc refrained. He was spoken for at the moment, and wasn't going to go fox hunting when out of town. He stepped forward, offering a hand.

"Yeah, Doc Henderson, Psychosis Motorsports. My buddy Rays here, well, technically he's with us. So yeah, we're both exhibitors."

"Rays Garrett," he introduced himself, stepping forward. "Technically Psychosis Motorsports."

"We're looking for check in, need to start setting up a booth."

The Gibson Hotel, Liberty City

"And suites work just fine for me. Ya'll got covered parking that isn't vallet around here?"

"Sir, all we have is our Premier Penthouse. It covers the entire top floor and has four bedrooms each with their own baths and walk in closets, a living room, den, dining room and kitchen. It can be which can be configured to sleep six, in about three hours. It is thirty two hundred a night, and it has the services of a butler and chef included." Her chin had gone up and her voice had firmed as she advised the stranger of the various aspects of the hotels finest accomodations.

The Gibson was primarily orineted towards upscale corporate travel, and provided every amenity the weary junior vice president or regional manger could want. However that didn't mean they couldn't provide more when called upon, and didn't this shabby out of towner not realise that the highly anticipated Automotive Excellence Exposition had nearly every room in the city reserved? She figured he'd leave, probably after some sort of snotty comment. My goodness the Omni's single rooms were going for over eight hundred a night, and she'd heard that their one bedroom suites were completely reserved at fifteen hundred a night.

"And no, all our parking her is handled by professional valets."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TMZIA, Main Check IN


The CSM took Doc's hand and gave it a gently firm shake. "Y'all out a Imitora. I can tell by the accent. I worked with some of your units during the Black War. Damn fine troops. Pleased to meet ya Doc. I'm Marrianne McQuest"

She turned to Rays and took the hand he too offered. "And you too Rays. Now let me see here" She released Rays hand and picked up a digital clipboard off of the table. Scrolling through it she compared the pitcures sent along with the original application from Psychosis.

"You match gentlemen, but before I let you in through the gate I need to Elf here" She nodded to the alert looking Akita that had been quietly sitting by the chair that she'd risen from at their arrival "Take a sniff of your vehicles. No ones getting through the gate with out afull search and while you all drove though various scanners, they say nothing gets past her nose."

Her tone never changed, nor did anything else, but Doc might well have had the feeling of being in crosshairs. "Such as what ever you're carrying Doc. I need to scan it and register it."

The AFC transport was at a halt, when the FPR Jon Et'ri stepped out of the plane, on a self-extending stairwell.

" Hello general. I am the Foreign Public Relations manager. We were wondering which hanger we should use, as we currently don't know."

(OOC: Expect my post to be sporadical: I'm very busy with school etc. at the moment.)

The rather large exhibition space was occupied by the complete VLT line-up, even though some vehicles were further protected by special stands, keeping visitors from touching the vehicles. In the center of the stand, VLT had constructed a small coffee bar, where one could sit inbetween the cars exhibited. Large LCD screens played promotion videos of various models, while visitors could also walk through a small hallway behind the bar, where the history of VLT and it's subsidiaries was depicted by using pictures, movies, scale models, and ofcourse the classic cars that had been flown to TMZ.

From a table near the coffee bar, Maximillian Mayer overlooked the scene. He had been sent to TMZIA for this exhibition by the sales department of VLT, to take care of managing the VLT presence here. He had already arrived a few days early, to overlook the construction of the VLT stand, aswell as coordinate the placement of all VLT property. His direct boss (Even though Hans Schmidt didn't like to be called that way) had been warning him for months before: If the vehicles owned by the Grand Duke would be damaged, he would personally like to hang him on the highest tree he could get his hands on. Even though the Grand Duke probably wouldn't, and the repairs could be done by his own personnel - The Grand-Ducal Garages, with their workshop in the Grand-Ducal palace, consist of the best mechanics around, and assist the Grand Duke 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, all year round with technical knowledge and reparations - Schmidt still stressed the point, and threatened he would make him pay for the cost of the damaged vehicles, if there were any.

On a corner of the VLT exhibition space, a small group of emergency services personnel sat around a table, in front of their vehicles. While both the ambulance and firetruck were Mercedes-Benz'es, they had both been manufactured by VLT in Van Luxemburg, and tehrefore belonged here, to show VLT's ability in manufacturing or modifying vehicles for emergency services. A Monteluci Duca 3.2 V6 Biturbo was painted in Van Luxemburgian Police colours, with the word 'Autobahnpolizei' positioned on both sides of the car, aswell as the front. An impressive array of lighting solutions had been placed on the vehicle, including a low-profile LED lightbar with blue flashers, aswell as amber lights for less urgent affairs, LED flashers placed in the grill, a single blue rotating beacon on the back part of the car's roof, to be used for when the vehicle was halted along the road, and didn't need to attract attention too much, but still should warn drivers of it's presence. Headlight flashers and blue LED flashers in the mirrors completed the modification, while a Van Luxemburgian two-tone police horn and special communication system finished the vehicle, even though some minor adjustments haven't been named. The ambulance and firetruck, a Mercedes-Benz E-class and Mercedes-Benz Atego respectively, had been equipped with the same sort of lighting, even though the horns differed for each vehicle: Van Luxemburgian law prescribed that emergency services should use a Two-tone, Three tone or Airhorn for Police, Ambulance and Fire brigade respectively.

While every single one of the vehicles on the stand was named by information signs palced in front of the vehicle, sales personnel walked around the exhibition space to help possible customers by answering questions, or advising them on which car to choose. For emergency services, the Van Luxemburgian police officers, emergency doctors and firemen waited by their vehicle, ready to answer any question that could come at them.

Verona

"Pleased to meet you, Jason. If you are going to do yours at noon, then I'll wait till say five, catch the just comming for dinner crowd. And that will giv e you plenty iof time in the media spot light. Oh and speaking of that"

He stepped a little closer and lowered his voice. "I have heard that Jolt MJedia, a really obnoxious pack of carriorn crawling yellow journalists are here and looking for what ever they can find. They give the region a black eye journalistically speaking. I'd keep a sharp eye out."

He looked about nervously, something that was not common to his usually imperterbably nature, but he was very accurate in his asssessment of Jolt's low brow, low ethics antcs.

"They're that bad are they?" queried Jason "Well, never mind, thanks for the heads up. So what sort of figures are you expecting from this? or are you just here to get your name out into the market place?"

Meanwhile Frederick Davidson the CEO of BazaBurger Intl sauned over to the Tanaaran Automotive Consortium's stand he passed Dan but was just like any other enthusiast that started to fill the concourse.

Entering their exhibition area he started to browse, the vehicles on display, more than there were in the Verona exhibition but then again most of the Verona vehicles weren't much to write home about meeting the needs of the consumer. He paused at the most elegant looking car in the exhibition.

He knelt down and started to examine the body in detail, finding one of the attendents he asked "So what do we have here?"

[QUOTE=The Militarized Zone;13036806]Afterburner Automotive
Hanger 6

That caused Captain Hardcastle's eye brows to fly up! Her soft brown eyes sparkled with lively interest "My goodness. Thats incredible!" She leant over to get a good view of the interior, noticing the unique seats and the gear shiftless center console as well as the interestingly shaped steering wheel.

"It looks like you are going with many emerging technologies. But how does it handle accents? I've met some new recruits that have such thick accents they practically needed their own translator." She inquired with true curiosity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Walsh smiled and said "Well, we figured that out, by using a little built in camera here." He pointed to a little dot in the console and said "It'll look at your lips and what you are trying to say, and determine what you mean. And then we have the other safeguard.." He punched a button in the G.P.S screen and the computer said "What do you want to do.." John typed in "Get into drive mode.", the computer said "Done" He heard the 350 hp V8 engine rev to signify that it was ready.

He smiled and said "Pure genius eh?, The Firebolt is a production car, not a concept car, but production."

The jet landed in the airport and 25 very wealthy men stepped out. They were of the 500 richest men in Uiri. They were the richest car lovers in Uiri though. Most of them accumulated wealth through the stock market - alas it was only a way to further their passion to them. There are some who love the stock market and because of these 25 men can't make money with it.

Secondly stepped out the coach of the Ducks, followed by the three drivers. They had been late because of a GP and they had only every other day to be here. Accompanying these proffesional athletes and their coach were the five engineers of the team.

The team and the group of merchants each had their picture taken; seperately of coures. Afterwards, the three drivers rolled out in their proffesional F1 cars, followed by 7 of the merchants. Only those ten Uir people loved to actually drive out of the group of 34.

The cars were pointed in the direction of their spots for display. There were the F1 cars, each one manufactured by a seperate manufacturer working, the three working together to monopolize the F1 car market. Then, seven cars from Uir's top seven automobile manufacturers rolled out. One from UGM, one from USM, one from UFM, one from UMM, one from UTM, one from UVM and one from UEM. Those each stand for:

Uir General Motors
Uir Sporting Mobiles
Uir Family Mobiles
Uir Mini Mobiles
Uir Trucking Motors
Uir Van Mobiles
Uir Expensive Motors

Each car was a latest, state-of-the-art model equipped with all the latest features which their customers - and the Mobile Merchants - loved.

Ryan contemplated the numbers for a moment. He took one good look around, and shrugged. Charli would like this place, and if they kept pissing him off, he knew the chanels to set up a nice hotel party. See if they liked him and Doc rolling a keg with two arm fulls of booze under each arm through the lobby. And of course, he had recieved enough looks of dismay from the business men in the lobby. Even better.

"Yeah," he said, pulling out his money clip/card holder. He had taken the time to get one hundred and fifty thousand converted to the local currency back in Imitora through a private commision. Sure, he had lost a half percent to each dollar, but it was worth it to go through peeple you trust. Only ten of the one fifty was carried in the money clip/wallet, the rest was tucked away on his person, in his luggage, or else where in the car. Doc had the same amount with him, and while Rays didn't believe in cash, his credit and debit cards had more than plenty on each.

Ryan tugged out one of the credit cards, and dropped it on the counter. "I'll take it. Go ahead and give it a charge for the length of the car show."

He wondered if the clerk had given him a real size up. If she had, she would have looked past the tee shirt, which was just one of many in the yet unreleased line of Psych Ward Wear, a marketing ploy by someone who represented the Psychosis Motorsports advertising account, and the well used jeans. Instead, she would have picked up the confident "I belong here" walk that even many of the newly wealthy business men didn't carry, the Omega watch, and the five hundred dollar a pair custom driving shoes. Of course, not everyone had been special ops at one point, and even fewer were fully observant of anything they could find.

"If I pay them up front in cash, you think the vallet boys will at least let my group park our own cars?"
___

Rays and Doc shrugged. Beyond the C16 and methanol running through Rays' Evo, and the twin, full, nitrous bottles in the back of Doc's Cobra, there was little to find. They each expressed their pleasure to meet her, and stood aside as she readied the dog to do a sniff test.

Such as what ever you're carrying Doc. I need to scan it and register it.

The Imitoran soldier nodded. He wasn't exactly a fan of handing over his weapon, but if it was what was requried, then he would deal with it. And Imitora was the same to its own tourists. Imitorans didn't need to register anything, but outsiders had everything logged and relogged twice over. He tugged the Beretta 96 out of its holster, and handed it over to the CSM.
___

It had been just under an hour since the first Imitoran aircraft arrived, and now a second was touching down. Another contracted C5, this time the unloading was much simpler. There were only two cars to off load, a rather luxurious looking sedan, and a rather menacing looking BMW base. Supply crews went about unloading, and the head of the group, Thomas 'Hoot' Gibbson, strolled down the ramp.

He hadn't specifcially brought any of his own, personal cars, just one of his Orions, and a BMW based car that another customer had ordered, but wasn't ready to take delivery of yet. The Orion rolled down the ramp in a rather serene manner, true of its luxe status. The BMW, however, idled angrilly, wanting nothing more than to break free of the bonds of the driver holding it back. It had been designed to tackle some of the most difficult race and road courses around, and it would be entered in the proper class for the races here. Hoot himself wouldn't be driving it, but a privately hired driver would be taking it on the course. He would arrive later.

He supervised as the vehicles made thier way down the ramp, and smiled to himself seeing the Psychosis crew still at work. At least he woudln't be the only Imitoran here.

Verona Exhibit & Tanaaran Automobile Registry Exhibit

So what sort of figures are you expecting from this? or are you just here to get your name out into the market place?"

"Any figures would be good, and yes we're defintiely trying to get our remaining manufacturers known outside the region. In the last five years the bottom has absolutely dropped out of the market for grounders, as the current slang is for traditional automobiles. All but two of our native manufacturers have switched over to producing mag lev or antigrav vehicles. But fortuantely we Tanaarans love cars nearly as much as we love horses. So neither will ever go completely out of style at home." Dan answered as he took a good look at the Verona automobiles, his gaze knowledgeable and admiring. You have some very nice models.

He waved over to where the Baza burger gentlemean was inspecting one of the Tanaaran vehicles. "He passed the Admira by, it's only been on the market a year but it already has region wide sales. It falls within the catagory of lurury sports car in Tanaara. Thats a tough market due to Imitora having a large hand in that section. The Arc next to it is our more Italianate designed sports coupe, very popular. And then we have the Atlantis, as the retro look is become very much in vogue. Her Majesty has one in her stable."

The Admira
http://www.atddm.com/907a_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907a.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/907b_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907b.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/907c_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907c.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/907d_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907d.jpg)

The Arc

http://www.atddm.com/rc1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/rc1.jpg)

The Atlantis
http://www.atddm.com/atlantis1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/atlantis1.jpg)

The young woman, one of the several Tanaaran Automobile Registry staffers, had moved with quick but unhurried grace over to where one of the other exhibitors was examining the flowing lines of the Astral. The luxury sedan had just debuted this year. "That is the Astral sir. She's lovely isn't she? I've had the pleasure to drive her and for a full bodied four door sedan she is exceptionally nimble in handling, and as smooth a ride as a Rolls. Her stance is very wide you'll notice, though over all the Astral is more compact than the Nuevo d'Or and the Lyonne ."

The Astral
http://www.atddm.com/astral2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/astra2.jpg)

The Nuevo d' Or
http://www.atddm.com/nuevo2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/nuevo2.jpg)

The Lyonne
http://www.atddm.com/908a_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/908a.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/908b_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/908b.jpg)


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere, the Anatov that HM Queen Mercedez Merideath Hexx used as her transport, she always travelled with her own vehicles, was just touching down. The vehicles she had sent ahead for the historical display had been transported days ago, so what she was bringing now were just her and her entourage's personal vehicles, though all of them would be entered in the various Concours.

Afterbuner Automotive
Hanger 6

John Walsh smiled as he said "Captain Hardcastle, here is another car that may excite you.." He lead the way to a small little SUV looking 4 place car, and he said "This is the Afterburner Excalibur.."

http://www.atddm.com/cal1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cal1.jpg)

He smiled as her eyes showed pleasant surprise, and he said "Wait till you see the interior.."

http://www.atddm.com/cal2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cal2.jpg)

Alfegos Transport Plane

" Hello general. I am the Foreign Public Relations manager. We were wondering which hanger we should use, as we currently don't know."
Lieutenant WhiteBear smiled "Actually sir, I'm just a lowly looie now, but I will be a general some day. Once you are unloaded, your plane will be assigned a hanger if you want it hangered. The automobile transporters are available now to take your vehicles and staff over to the Exposition venue. Let me check where at TMZIA you will be exhibiting."

He scrolled down his digital clipboard and and found where Alfegos was to set up their exhibit. "Ah you are on the ground floor of the Concourse. At the Main Check In there why will direct you to your exhibit space, and give you the keys to the hotel suites reserved for your personell. They are at the Tres d'Or hotel I see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Afterburner Automotive
Hanger 6


"Pure genius eh?, The Firebolt is a production car, not a concept car, but production."

"Yes, genius indeed, Mr. Walsh, and very innovative. I wouldn't suppose that later one you'd be allowing test drives"" Abagail asked somewhat hesitantly. The idea of a voice activated car intrigued her greatly, though she could see some potential drawbacks as well.

Uiri Arrival at HeadQuarters Miliarty Airfield and at TMZ Hanger 1, their display Space...

Long luxurious limo's had been waiting for the wealthy beyond belief gentlemen from Uiri, as had a careful and competent police escort though the streets of HeadQuarters City, to Liberty City and out to the island and TMZIA, and Hanger 1. The racing teams got cheers as they rolled though liberty, many people followed the Grand Prix circuits and recognized the cars.

Hanger 1 was one of the larger handers, and had been decorated in the national colors of Uiri and the back wall draped with a large Uirrian flag. The TMZ crew assigned to assisst the Uriians in what ever they needed ws quickly able to help them get every thing sorted out and show them the apartments attached to the massive hanger.

The twenty five very wealthy men were taken to their reserved luxury suites at the Tres D' Or Hotel, the five star hotel and casino that had been reserved entirely for exhibitors. The Tes D' Or was the equall of any of the the Bellagio, or the Casino Royale in Monaco.


The Gibson Hotel, Liberty City

The walk, the nicely concealed weapon, and the accent made the out of towner on the other side of her desk Imitoran, but that just meant he had money and was willing to spend it. And his words confirmed it. But, hed been polite, and hadn't been thrown by the amount...

Still, the young woman paled ever so slightly. That was over eighty thousand rounds when all was said and done. With a "One moment please" she bent over her computer screen as she entered the data. Once the credit card had cleared, she shot him a relieved smile and answered his question about the valets, but in a much softer voice, one designed not to carry "It's supposed to be balet parking due to insurance concerns, but you wouldn't happen to say that the drivers were professionals would you? Chauffers?"

First Floor TMZIA

The eastern most display was one of the various Bond Vehicles, as the various James Bond movies would be showing in the fifteen screen theater - as would ever other movie (where cars played an important part) that was worth of note. The Mad Max vehicles were on display was the hot pink aardvark car of Pink Panther fame, and many others as well.

At the west end were The cars of Her Majesty, Queen Mercedez Merideath Hexx and the Hexx Estate - some forty rare vehicles.
Of which the four below were prominently dispalyed. Two rare raodsters, a Lancia Strata Protypio, and one of the world's rarest cars.

http://www.atddm.com/he1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/he1.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/he2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/he2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/bk11_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/bk11.jpg)

An 1931 Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8B Viggo Jensen Cabriolet d'Orsay with coachwork by Dansk Karosseri-Farbik

http://www.atddm.com/he4_small.gif (http://www.atddm.com/he4.gif)


In between those two museum displays lay NAIS, a large reversed L shaped stage area of Canadian automobiles, then Cafundeo, west of them is Valhalla Motor Sports, next was Psychosis, then Uiri's non racing autos, with Bat Shit Crazy' just south of them, across from the La Fiamma, an excellent Italian restraunt with a comfortable bar and lounge attached to it.

http://www.atddm.com/1floor_small.gif (http://www.atddm.com/1floor.gif)

Escalators and elevators by the theater on the east end and by the exhibit offices on the west end took one to the sub level, where one could catch the subway to any of the hotels on the island, or head into Liberty City or further on into HeadQuarters City itself. In the sub level they had an eclectic display or art cars, art work in a wide array of media featuring cars, every sort of automotive themed clothing and even several tattoo studios.

TMZIA, Main Check IN

"Beretta Ninety Six, nice gun. I don't need to handle it Doc, if it isn't combat worthy then it'll be you that has to deal with it' She smiled up at him. "If you would just lay it in that foam cut out there." She indicated a dark gray soft foam slab with a 'cut out' that closely matched the frame of the Beretta. "This will take a pic of its serial number and a snap down the spout and there it's done."

She waited till he'd retrieved the pistol and Elf had returned to her snoozing spot. "Do you want photo biometric cards, or hide-a-chips for unlimited entry and exit. You all are marked as 'special conditions' and my notes say your vehicles will be in and out randomly."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[CENTER]Afterburner Automotive
Hanger 6


"Pure genius eh?, The Firebolt is a production car, not a concept car, but production."

"Yes, genius indeed, Mr. Walsh, and very innovative. I wouldn't suppose that later one you'd be allowing test drives"" Abagail asked somewhat hesitantly. The idea of a voice activated car intrigued her greatly, though she could see some potential drawbacks as well.




John Walsh said "Yes, we will be allowing test drives later on of both the Excalibur and the Firebolt."

The plane backed on to the terminal, where the massive ramp was dropped. Out came the cars, already unsecurede, and waiting to be tested. They did a short lap of the terminal, before driving in convoy to the reserved part of the concourse in the other airport.

Sometimes, you have to have a bit of fun, especially with cars like these...

===== =====

The entire crew were ecstatic they would have to sleep in the cramped quarters onboard the super-transport. Instead, they would have decent hotel rooms.

First thought, the exhibition for the cars.

HeadQuarters Militray Airfield

Victor Helwulf approached the the Tanaaran Monarch as she stood watching vehicle being unloaded from her transport and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty, Mercedez, I’ve brought a very special car for you to look over. I was hoping that you’d consent to ride with me.” He gestured to the powerful new sports car, the Thor, that he was introducing at the Exposition. "You would be the first besides myself to ride in it."

The Thor:
http://www.atddm.com/cc12br2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cc12br2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/cc12br3_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cc12br3.jpg)

She'd waved him through the cordon of protective agents reluctantly. And now Mercy gave Victor a carefully metered smile. He was up for a peerage, next Founding Day, but she, on a personal level, didn’t like him His sponsors have made sure that he’s got all the I’s dotted and the t’s crossed but he’s slimy. She thought as she forced the smile not to fade. The fact that he’d dated the Baroness Di’ Racul for a couple of years didn’t help in the slightest. Mercy’d come with one plan in mind and that was to completely and utterly crush her long time enemy. “Thank you know Victor. I brought the Spell Breaker, and I haven’t driven him in far too long” She lied but only just a little. “Thank you for the ever so kind offer but they’re waiting for me.”

The SpellBreaker
http://www.atddm.com/spllbrkr_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/spllbrkr.jpg)

She nodded to where the Four Horsemen, as they were known, waited patiently for her. Her oldest friends, closest advisors and unofficial last line of defense, they’d been with Mercy for longer than she’d been queen.

Normally Sinjin and his lady Khadri rode together in his Bad Karma, a rare Vector, with Kazuma and his wife Robyn taking their Interceptor known as the Wraith. But the Wraith had been retired and so Kazuma was in a Supra that he wanted to see if Psychosis or BSC could tune to his specifications, while Robyn was in the new vehicle they’d be testing, one they called the Cyber. It housed the latest automotive A.I. and was wired to hook into any cyber net. Robyn let it idle as she stepped out of the gull wing drivers door and called softly to Kazuma who was standing next to Sinjin as they watched Mercy and Victor talk. "It's got an uplink established, the traffic controls are ours, and the TMZnet acknowledges our entry. They aren't happy in the lesaste that Cyber cracked their codes in less than three minutes."

They'd arranged the live intrusion test months ago and the TMZ cyber analysts had been eagerly awaitng the activity. Sinjin nodded and caught Mercy's eye. She gave a warmer smile that the one she had for Victor, in return and excused herself from Victor. The security cordon around her carefully maneuvered him away from the queen as she walked toward the Spell Breaker. They didn't like him either, but they were still professional about how they handled him.

Bad Karma:
http://www.atddm.com/badk_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/badk.jpg) The Supra: http://www.atddm.com/supra_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/supra.jpg)

The Cyber:
http://www.atddm.com/cyber2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cyber2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/cyber1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cyber1.jpg)

Soon they were but a memory in the vast concrete space known s HeadQuarters Military Airfield.

Sweating under his breath Victor headed for one of the penthouse suites in the WindWard Hotel, where the Baroness waited for his report. She wouldn't be pleased.

"Uh," Rays looked over at the CSM. "How about the standard picture on a lanyard?"

Rays had never been one to enjoy dealing with military types. Far to uptight for his taste, much to into order, standards and rules. And that was why he got along so well with Fortier and Doc. Sure, they were both ex military, but they hardly showed it. They didn't care about uniforms or parade dress or drills. They just wanted to have fun. And happened to know how to kill someone thirty ways before they hit the ground.

Doc simply shrugged, and tucked the Beretta back into his holster. "Don't matter to me. Gettin in is gettin' in." He snapped out a cell phone, and dialed up Tim, informing the man on the other end to get the cars ready, they'd be moving in soon.
___

Ryan laughed. "Professionals? Hardly. We just don't like other people driving our cars."

Ryan tucked the card back into the wallet, and unflipped the clip holding the cash in place.

"How much is it going to cost to keep a bunch of vallet idiots off my cars? I don't care how much training they have, me and my boys can out drive them anywhere and anyhow, so it would be better for us."
___

Hoot was busy easing the BMW back into a stall when he noticed that Mercy's group had arrived. The Spellbreaker was there, as well as the numerous other cars. The clasics were nice, but not quite the Imitoran's style. Then he saw something that looked hideous to the point of vomit inducing. The outline recomended Supra, but the paint, the lambo doors, and the wheels screamed no taste. After one last look, he started laughing.

"What's up boss?" one of the crew asked.

Hoot pointed out that car. "Ya know, I understand that Mercy and her crew might be busy, to busy to do deep research, but I just hope they didn't pay the market on the Supra."

"Why's that?"

"Its no Supra. Its an Eclipse. An older DSM 'Clipse," he chuckled.

He shook his head, laughing, and went back to making sure the BMW was eased back properly. A quick glance over to the Psychosis aircraft showed something rolling off on a pallet, under a sheet. That could prove to be interesting.

Verona Exhibit & Tanaaran Automobile Registry Exhibit

So what sort of figures are you expecting from this? or are you just here to get your name out into the market place?"

"Any figures would be good, and yes we're defintiely trying to get our remaining manufacturers known outside the region. In the last five years the bottom has absolutely dropped out of the market for grounders, as the current slang is for traditional automobiles. All but two of our native manufacturers have switched over to producing mag lev or antigrav vehicles. But fortuantely we Tanaarans love cars nearly as much as we love horses. So neither will ever go completely out of style at home." Dan answered as he took a good look at the Verona automobiles, his gaze knowledgeable and admiring. You have some very nice models.

He waved over to where the Baza burger gentlemean was inspecting one of the Tanaaran vehicles. "He passed the Admira by, it's only been on the market a year but it already has region wide sales. It falls within the catagory of lurury sports car in Tanaara. Thats a tough market due to Imitora having a large hand in that section. The Arc next to it is our more Italianate designed sports coupe, very popular. And then we have the Atlantis, as the retro look is become very much in vogue. Her Majesty has one in her stable."

The Admira
http://www.atddm.com/907a_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907a.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/907b_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907b.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/907c_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907c.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/907d_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/907d.jpg)

The Arc

http://www.atddm.com/rc1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/rc1.jpg)

The Atlantis
http://www.atddm.com/atlantis1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/atlantis1.jpg)

The young woman, one of the several Tanaaran Automobile Registry staffers, had moved with quick but unhurried grace over to where one of the other exhibitors was examining the flowing lines of the Astral. The luxury sedan had just debuted this year. "That is the Astral sir. She's lovely isn't she? I've had the pleasure to drive her and for a full bodied four door sedan she is exceptionally nimble in handling, and as smooth a ride as a Rolls. Her stance is very wide you'll notice, though over all the Astral is more compact than the Nuevo d'Or and the Lyonne ."

The Astral
http://www.atddm.com/astral2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/astra2.jpg)

The Nuevo d' Or
http://www.atddm.com/nuevo2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/nuevo2.jpg)

The Lyonne
http://www.atddm.com/908a_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/908a.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/908b_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/908b.jpg)



"Thanks," said Jason "I find that even in a field such as car manufacturing, as competitive and cut throat as it is, expecially with the focus on technology to make the cars, safer, faster and more powerful, that the old classics never really go out of style."

What Jason didn't say and was very careful about letting it on was the fact that anti-grav or mag-lift vehicles were still quite a long way away for Bazalonian car firms, Verona included.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frederick made various grunts of approval as he was shown around the cars in the lot, "So how fast do they go? What's their acceleration like? and how's their handling?"

Windsong Hotel, Uiri's arrival

All of the hotels that shared the island with TMZIA were five star or better resort hotels, and they very posh indeed, deliberately so. It was well known that if you wanted to attract the wealthy - and they very definitely did - you had to be a cut above and no expense had been spared in that department. These weren't family friendly hotels, these were for the well travelled adults and couples who wanted every luxury at their well manicured, highly sophisticated finger tips.

And that meant that the twentyfive very very wealthy men from Uiri would feel right at home as their limo's pulled up under the porche cochere. Swarms of attentive bell men, with the hotel's manager, and the four assistant managers in tow, hard on their heels- and a bevy of stewards with just poured flutes of champagne coming right after him descended upon them determined to make their stay noteable.

"Good evening gentlemen, I am Jon Cleeham and I have the extreme pleasure of being your host for the Automotive Excellence Exposition." He greeted the men from Uiri as the stewards circulated, making sure that every one who was supposed to have champagne did so, and rare golden Sterlet caviar with white truffles on water crackers as a finisheing touch. In the blink of an eye their luggage was whisked away and the gentlemen offered their choice of dinner, or a massage, or other past time of their pleasure.

Prostitution is legal in TMZ and heavily regulated, demanding that those who wisherd to hold the most stringent liscenses be trained and knowledgeable in far more than just bed sports. Quite a number of such highly skilled courtessans were waiting to see if any of the gentlemen were interested in discreete liasons.

Afterburner Automotive
Hanger 6


I am so pleased to hear that you will be offering test drives Mister Walsh!" Captain Hardcastle exclaimed. " I will definitely be back for one." She checked her digital clipboard, scrolling down it rapidly

"Is there anything I can do? Is there anything you need that isn't here?" She hoped there had been nothing shorted. Her troops had worked hard to make sure everything was perfect and every imagined need had been met.

New Owl Custom, Arrival at Headquarters Military Airfield

"First Speaker Gibson?" A young Lieutenant in clean, but worn from the days activities, bdu's approached and saluted. "My apologies sir, Captain Sato was supposed to be here to meet you but he suffered an accident."

Behind him an autotransport rolled up, ready to on-load the Orion and the other vehicle, should that be what was decided upon. "I also have notes for you from both General Hardcastle and Lord Kincannon of Tanaara."

Hoot turned away from watching the Psychosis team unload the sheet covered car to speak with the ell tee. He didn't return the salute, he had always left that for military active, but just nodded, extending a free hand.

My apologies sir, Captain Sato was supposed to be here to meet you but he suffered an accident.

"Thats to bad to hear, I hope he's ok. And don't worry about that," he said, waving over to the transport. "We can drive ours just fine. Nothing wrong with a bit of rash and scars, makes it look like someone actually drives the cars," he laughed.

I also have notes for you from both General Hardcastle and Lord Kincannon of Tanaara.

"Oh, what can I get them for?"

John looked around and said "No, we've got power for our presentation, and I can't wait to see people's faces when they see what we have to unveil.."

TMZIA, Main Check IN

"Biometric picture on a lanyard coming up." THe CSM didn't seem bothered by Rays lack of entheusiasm. "Just put your right hand on the plate here and then stand in fromt of the blue screen." A private in bdu's handled the fingerprints and the collection of skin cells that went with it- unnoticibly as the transfer medium just took what was normally left behind when some one touched a tacky surface- and then the photograph. In just minutes the pair had photo on a lanyard in hand, and a request to pass along to the others of Psychosis. "Please stop in get any weapons registered and pictures taken."

The Gibson Hotel, Liberty City

"Well, if you'll sign the waivers..." The clerk heistated a second "They are supposed to be for professional drivers with stretched vehicles." She laid a stack of forms in front of him. "Just get each of your men to fill one out and they should cover any problems."

Her smile was more steady now and she gave him another once over, this one feminine and appreciative "You wouldn't like some party time girls to come up to the suite this evening?"

Prostitution was legal in TMZ and strictly regulated. The highly skilled courtesans the Gibson Hotel contracted with would be expensive but worth every penny.

New Owl Custom, Arrival at Headquarters Military Airfield

The Looie shook his hand a he explained "He should be fine, Just a shattered shoulder blade when a car broke free of its strap down unexpectedly and slammed him up against a stancion.

"I am uncertain of the contents of Lord Kincanons note, he scribbled it down when he heard that I was to come over and welcome you." He glanced down at the hand held on his belt that crackled softly with ongoing changes, wanting to make sure that the orders weren't for him, then handed him Sinjin's note.

"However I do know that General Hardcastle's is an invitation. He would like to invite you to dinner this evening. He jotted down his personal cel number so you can call him at your convienence." He handed that one to Hoot as well.

Afterburner Automotive
Hanger 6

"No, we've got power for our presentation, and I can't wait to see people's faces when they see what we have to unveil.."

I am sure it will have every one talking!"

"I'm pleased to hear that you can't think of anything you need at this time, and please feel free to let your laison know" She nodded towards the Corporal that was talking to one of the Afterburner personeell.

"Mister Walsh, if you will excuse me, there are many thing I need to take care of before I can get free to come test drive these awesome cars." Captain Hardcastle replied, pleased that her crew was taking care of things properly.

Doc nodded uneasily. "I'll make sure they do that. We'll get it taken care off after they sign in."

Neither he nor Rays appriciated having to use their DNA to get into the building, but it was something they could deal with later. That, and Doc made a mental note to have Ryan do one of his scrape jobs on the Berretta. But again, things to be handled later.

He called back Tim, and work began. In just shy of two hours, the Evo, the Cobra, the Dominator, the 240, and the 'Busa were all in place. Room had been left for the Supra to come in later, towards the center of the display. Next to where the Supra would be was the sheet covered vehicle. It took some time, and skill, to manuver it properly, but the sheet and never come free, and the vehicle was still hidden.

Off to one side was the Psych Ward Wear booth, offering tee shirts with random sayings and phrases from the Psychosis team, polos with the Psychosis Motorsports logo, and jackets and hats with different logo wear.

Several flat screens were set up around the booth area, at this point just displaying a rotating Psychosis logo. A DJ booth and laser/light/fog machine set up had been done, but oddly, none of it was in use yet. A hidden set of speakers simply played the theme of Navajo Joe on loop, while the cars sat under properly positioned lights. Stands displayed some information on the cars, but most of it was left to the imagination. A set of ropes had been set up around the sheet covered car, and a single Psychosis employee watched on lookers trying to get a closer peak.

Other than that, the Psychosis booth was oddly empty.
___

"Ya know, I bet that the expierence would be more than worth the cost. But I don't think my girl would be to understanding if I hired a few call girls. I'll leave that on the other guys coming with. They should be here shortly. Big black guy dressed kinda like this, and an Asian dude that's all trendied out. Like he rolled out of a magazine or something."

Ryan filled out one of the forms, and handed it to the desk clerk, as well as a two hundred round note on the sheet. "Thanks for the help babe, most appriciative."

He walked back off, and headed out the front door to the Supra. A small crowd had gathered to examine the car, and he pleasently moved them back. His tone was a joking "don't wanna get burned."

At response to one interogater, he smiled, and told him to be out on the streets, and hit up the auto show to learn more. And not to feel to bad when all he saw was tail lights.

With a bark, a roar, and then the settling sound of the bored out motor, two tenths of a liter bigger than stock, and the whistling of the large single turbo, the car backed out of the spot. Ryan tossed the on lookers one last smile, and remebering his own younger days, when he watched the older guys in their big block muscle and high pressure imports race, he decided to have some fun. He let loose one long rev, sending the tach towards the red line, and dumped the clutch. He kept on the throttle long enough to produce a decent cloud of smoke, then fethered the clutch, leaving two long black streaks in the pavement.

With little more noise, well, as quiet as a heavily modified 2JZ-GTE could be, he made his way into the garage, and found a set of open spaces. His first act was to call up Doc, let him know where the hotel was, what floor they were on, and to call him to get the forms filled out. His next move was to make his way to the room.

The elevator ride was quiet enough, and Ryan stepped out onto their own private floor, and moved towards the main door to the suite.
___

Hoot nodded.

"I know the feeling. Had a car shoot of a dyno once because some jack off did a bad job strapping it down. Ran right over my foot. The car was going, well, the wheels were spinning at about 130mph. That kinda sucked."

He gladly accepted the two notes. "We'll be fine with off loading the cars for now, I'll wave ya down if I need anything. And if ya see him before I can call him, tell the General I'd be glad to have dinner with him."

With that, he stepped back, and made his way back towards the inside of the transport. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, and made one quick call.

"Hey, its me. Still comming? Good, I'll see ya here."

He snapped the phone shut, he would call the General later. He took a quick look around, and headed for the check in area.

Verona Exhibit.
"I find that even in a field such as car manufacturing, as competitive and cut throat as it is, expecially with the focus on technology to make the cars, safer, faster and more powerful, that the old classics never really go out of style."

"Oh I agree, that whats been keeping us alive. Mag lev and antigrav are wonderful for transporting the masses, quiet, non polluting, but no fun. The various city grids keep everything safe but boring. Give me a car any day." Dan didn't seem to notice Jason's lack of comment about the technologies he was bemoaning.

Tanaaran exhibit across from Verona Exhibit.
"So how fast do they go? What's their acceleration like? and how's their handling?"

"The Admira and the Arc both top out at just over one ninety and the Atlantis and the Astral come in around one eighty, though of course all of these can be custom tuned. The Nuevo and the Lyonne top out at only about one seventy, given their greater size and weight. We will be giving test drives larter in the course of the show, if you'd like to see their handling yourself."

She waved a hand towards a large flat panel screen set up, with very plush chairs set before it"If you would like to see them handled by a non professional, I got to be the driver for the video, and while I like to think I'm a decent driver, I'm certainly not a professional one."

She remembered her manners and held out her hand 'I'm Gwenn van Haas, and I'm very pleased to meet you. Would you care for some coffee?"

Final Approach into HeadQuarters Military Airfield.

*Quama, this is Gun Runner One on fainal approach, Any final updates?*

*Negative Gun Runner One, same as on confirm to approach, you are going to be touching down on North One* The control tower replied to the querry from the massive long haul 747-400ER Freighter's copilot.

Gently the plane touched down on to the tarmac in a neqr perfect landing, and minutes later wasa being guided by fieldmen to the parkiing slot reserved.

"Charli you ought to go for your multi engine rating. Hell I'll get Three to sell you the Runner here for cost. You're going to need it when you get Wild Fire Inc. going." Jonnie Lea Pettimore said firmly then stood and stretched before making her way from the engineers station of the cockpit.

The pilot, who'd moved over to the copilots seat so Charli could fly nodded in agreement. "She right. You're a natural at it, and you could qualify in no time."

Charli Firewalker moved out of the pilot's seat and straightened up, stretching much as Jonnie Lea had. "I'll have to think about it. I know I'm need some sort of transport but it would be a huge outlay. I'll have to think on it. Thanks for letting me fly Fred, Max, " She nodded to the copilot who had gone to the crew rest quarters when Fred had taken his seat and was now returning to assist with post flight duties. "There are suite reservations for you and full passes for youand your families to the expo and to the amusement park, War World. I think ya'lls kids will like it." The pilot and copilot had been allowed to bring their families along for a nearly month long vacation by the Pettimores. And twenty more members of the organization were getting their carry-ons together back in what had once been the upper loung area, but was now the only passenger seating on the Boeing.

Verona Exhibit.
"I find that even in a field such as car manufacturing, as competitive and cut throat as it is, expecially with the focus on technology to make the cars, safer, faster and more powerful, that the old classics never really go out of style."

"Oh I agree, that whats been keeping us alive. Mag lev and antigrav are wonderful for transporting the masses, quiet, non polluting, but no fun. The various city grids keep everything safe but boring. Give me a car any day." Dan didn't seem to notice Jason's lack of comment about the technologies he was bemoaning.

Jason chuckled... "It seems we're reading from the same script... There is nothing like a car, a good car becomes like an extension of yourself. Just as much you as your hands or legs.

Tanaaran exhibit across from Verona Exhibit.
"So how fast do they go? What's their acceleration like? and how's their handling?"

"The Admira and the Arc both top out at just over one ninety and the Atlantis and the Astral come in around one eighty, though of course all of these can be custom tuned. The Nuevo and the Lyonne top out at only about one seventy, given their greater size and weight. We will be giving test drives larter in the course of the show, if you'd like to see their handling yourself."

She waved a hand towards a large flat panel screen set up, with very plush chairs set before it"If you would like to see them handled by a non professional, I got to be the driver for the video, and while I like to think I'm a decent driver, I'm certainly not a professional one."

She remembered her manners and held out her hand 'I'm Gwenn van Haas, and I'm very pleased to meet you. Would you care for some coffee?"


"Fred" he said shaking her hand, "and just some water for now, thanks." He said as he made his way over to the display, He stood and started to watch. He had no intention of sitting down, some reason he prefered standing to watch the video.

John Walsh helped to prepare the Afterburner booth for visitors, he was excited about showing the two cars underneath the cloth to the world. He smiled at the thought that the Firebolt would be a good selling car in Calizorinstan, and other placest to hopefully.

The Gibson Hotel, Psychosis Suite

The private lobby set the tone. Walls hidden behind a superb Maxfield Parrish trompe le 'oil soared upwards in tent like fashion to a showcase an elegant custom designed swarovski crystal chandalire. The floral arrangements sitting on tables on either side of the heavily carved rosewood double doors were fresh from the florist that moring and the royal blue and gold antique oriental rug that covered the inlaid parquet floor was spotless.

A discrete chime alerted the butler, in his office, that an authorized guest was arriving, coming up in the private elevator that serviced this floor alone. Thus the butler was ready, opening the double doors wide as Ryan Fortier exited the elevator. The photo of the gentleman who had taken the floor had been sent up to the butler's computer terminal from the front desk and thus he was able to greet his temporary patron by name

"Good Morning Mister Fortier. Would you like me to have your luggage brought up?" He inquired as he stepped aside so that Ryan could enter into the short entry hall.

The penthouse suite consisted of four wings. The south wing, the shortest of the wings, held the elevator and the lobby - the only parts of the south wing that most of the patrons ever saw. It housed the butler's and chef's offices and other such 'unnoticed' spaces.

The central area had a free standing, gently curving staircase that led to the roof top gardens - those covering nearly a full acre in addition to an open air kitchen with a grille, a swimming pool with jaccuzzi, an trellis shaded sitting area, a full wet bar and a perfect view of the ocean, from twenty five stories up.

The east wing held, along it's north side, an immense living room with two fireplaces, floor to ceiling french doors which opened on to a wide balcony that stretched the length of the room which also had it's own wet bar with wine chiller. The south side was taken by two rooms, the nearest to the entry being a conference room capable of seating twenty and having every state of the art office amenity one could wish. Next was the cozy but well stocked library and card room, done in a very comfortable masculine style. At the far end of the right wing, down a short hallway, lay two large bedrooms, each with a walk in closet and a spacious bath with seperate shower and roman tub. Being that they divided the end of the wing between them mean that they had the pleasure of balconies on two walls.

The west wing held, along the north side, an airy dining room who's french doors opened onto shaded balcony wide enough for alfresco dining if so desired. Past that was a theater room capable of seating thirty or more people in lavish style. There was a full lounge style wet bar and a popcorn stand. Across the way from the dining room and theater was the kitchen, wine cellar, and a game room with a billards table, darts lane, snack bar, and 60 inch LCD with multiple gaming systems,as well as a chess table. This wing too ended in a pair of side by side bedrooms similar to those at the other end.

The north wing lay behind their own pair of double doors, also of rosewood, inlaid with bronze and leather frame work about a spectaular pair of Comfort Louis Tiffany Art Nouveau style stained glassed panels. The wing housed only a private office - as well equjipped as the conference room - an impressively equipped gym, the master bedroom complete with a majestic oversize canpoied king, sitting room, and his 'n her bathrooms - each with sunken tub, seperate shower and walk in closets. The gym also had a japanese style soaking tub, a cold pool, showers and a massage room with wet and dry saunas as well as a complete salon facilities.

The maids were currently converting the four only ever so slightly smaller bedrooms from kings into double queens capable of sleeping eight.

About the time Ryan was nodding to the butler, his cellphone rang.

"Honey I'm here" Came a welcome and familiar voice, trying to be heard over what sounded like All American Muscle thundering in a confined area

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TMZIA Main Check in

When Ex First Speaker Gibson sone arrived at the main chack in he received much the same polite treatment , though, apparently General Hardcastle had him on a 'Wave Though' list as the CSM recognised him and cheerfully handed him an ID badge without the Imitoran having to ask.

"The General has you on his guest list sir" She explained.

Twenty nine years...time sure flies.

The rumbling power of the V8 engine nestled in the embrace of the '79 Grand Am was just loud enough to rattle windows some distance away, even if they were reinforced. Inside, the lone driver shifted into gear and drove it off the ramp of the cargo aircraft that had given the three cars a quick hop over a few thousand miles from his small town shop nestled in the lowlands of Tarlachia to these islands.

Looking around, he watched the few people he could see as he pulled the car to a stop, parked it, and emerged with the engine still running. He leaned against the door and the frame, scanning the faces for anyone familiar.

Hoot's here somewhere. He'd never miss something like this. Wonder if Holly's still around. And Fortier...rest in peace my friend.

Turning as the other two cars were rolled off by his two employees and parked nearby, he nodded to each of them and looked back to his surroundings again. To the driver of the '02 Camaro, he gave a slight smile. His own flesh and blood, turning twenty-four in about four months time. Like his father who now watched him, the young man was also naturally inclined toward cars. The sunlight overhead was warm, but it was clearly winter, where winter daytime temperatures ran into the mid seventies at best. All in all, winter in paradise. The sky was mostly clear, although a few clouds coming from the northeast were threatening some rain for the next morning. Humidity however was low, so the threat was minimal. Not that any bad weather would deter any of these cars.

Sighing, the man returned back to the driver's seat, leaning his head back as he did so and closing his eyes. The window, he left open and some music was heard lowly on the radio. When someone decided to finally notice their arrival, they would come with all the necessary paperwork and escort to their pre-arranged rooms and small hangar. His fingers drummed the steering wheel as he waited patiently.

TMIZIA Main Check In.

CSM Marrianne McQuest escorted Mister Gibson out of the office "Here is all your entry paperwork and Hotel information. You and your personell all have reservations at the Tres D' Or, Sir," She handed an information packet to Hoot and gave him verbal directions to the cargo elevator nearest his assigned display area. "Your exhibit area is on the second level. The closest lifts are around the 'corner' from here. I've called for Corporal Hughes, your laison to come to assisst you. She'll be working with you thought out the show. Please feel free to ask her for anything you might need." She smilled up at him, then looked over her shoulder as a golf cart rolled up and a young lady in an outfit similar to hers but with a mere corporal's rank insignia on it hopped off. She was a lanky brunette with a ready smile that showcased excellent teeth. "First Speaker Hardcastle, Lieutenant White bear asked me to let your know that a Mister Lance Freeman of tarlachia has arrived at the Military Airfield and is asking for you.

HeadQuarters Military Airfield, Tarlachian Off loading Zone

"Excuse me sir, have you been waiting long?" A harried young lieutenant in wrinkled but mostly clean BDU's trotted up to the '79 Grand Am. "I'm Lieutenant WhiteBear, and I do apologise for not getting to your sooner. Do you have your packet, or exhibit number?" He asked the genteman from Tarlachia. They'd had no other entrants from that nation other than a pair of manufacturers that had arrived the day before. He was certain that this was Red Owl Customs.

VLT Exhibit, 2nd level of the concourse

General Hardcastle had finally reached the VLT exhibit, and was thoroughtly inspecting their line of energency vehicle. Most of what TMZ had in the way of emergency vehicles were second hand units that definitely needed to be replaced. He liked what he saw here in the VLT exhibit and if they could give im a discount for volume purchase he'd authorise the purchase during the exhibit. But he wanted to talk to the VLTt manager first. He had a list of questions ready.

VLT Exhibit

Seated on a table near the bar the VLT crew had built temporarily for the exposition, Maximillian could overlook the entire VLT exhibit. While taking a sip from a Cappuccino, he saw General Hardcastle entering the exhibit, slowly walking past the various vehicles placed on the exhibit. Mayer slowly rose from his seat, took up his - now empty - cup of Italian coffee specialty and returned it to the VLT operated bar, before walking into the direction of the general. In English, although with a slight German accent, he approached Hardcastle.

'General Abagail Hardcastle, I presume?' He spoke, looking at the man's nametag.

'Can I help you with something? Me and my personnel are always glad to help, if you have any questions or any problems.'

[CENTER]HeadQuarters Military Airfield, Tarlachian Off loading Zone

"Excuse me sir, have you been waiting long?" A harried young lieutenant in wrinkled but mostly clean BDU's trotted up to the '79 Grand Am. "I'm Lieutenant WhiteBear, and I do apologize for not getting to your sooner. Do you have your packet, or exhibit number?" He asked the gentleman from Tarlachia. They'd had no other entrants from that nation other than a pair of manufacturers that had arrived the day before. He was certain that this was Red Owl Customs.


Opening his eyes to see the lieutenant leaning into the window, he looked up at the man's hand touching the top of the car. Keeping the man's gaze with his own, he reached to the passenger seat and picked up the manila folder with all the papers, including the invite sent by a Captain Abigail Hardcastle. It was covered in greasy fingerprints for when he had received it, he had been completing the replacement of an alternator on a customer's car. On the cover of the folder, in his own handwriting was,

Red Moon Customs
Lance Freeman; owner/operator
Josh Freeman, automotive specialist
Jason Black, automotive specialist

Upon opening the folder, the liutenant would find first the invitation, followed by all pertinent information as standard for expositions. Lance then cleared his throat and looked upward at the lieutenant's hand still on the car.

"If you would take your hand off the car, that'd be nice. Also, do let a good friend of mine know I'm here. Goes by Hoot."

VLT Exhibit, 2nd Level of the TMZIA Concourse

'Can I help you with something? Me and my personnel are always glad to help, if you have any questions or any problems.'

"Mister Mayer, isn't it?" General Ian Hardcastle returned the greeting. "A pleasure to meet you sir. And yes I have a few questions about your emergency service vehicles." The senior general of the TMZ Army and current head of the Operations Council pulled out a much folded paper he'd jotted down questions on.

"Firstly I need to ask, is every thing going well? Is there anything you need or has your laison seen to it?" The question was not rhehtorical, as General Ian Hardcastle wanted the exhibitors to remeber the expostion favorably.

Once he'd gotten the answer to that, making more notes concerning any needs Mister Mayers had, he continued "Does your asking price include custom paint schemes? Mainly becasue on a majority of our police cruisers we won't be wanting one. Just a sedate navy paint scheme and of course we'll provide the door and roof decals." His grin was evil. "We don't necessarily want people identifying them at a glance, though yours, even in navy, be quite noticeable. Lovely cars if I may say so."

He gave a list of other questions, concerning delivery, pricing on fleet purchases, safety options and so forth. He had $ 3,065,536,050 USD to spend on revehiculaizing his not so small multi island nations (http://www.atddm.com/tmz1.jpg) public servicxe vehicles. And he intended to spend every penny of it.

HeadQuarters Military Airfield, Tarlachian Off loading Zone

"If you would take your hand off the car, that'd be nice. Also, do let a good friend of mine know I'm here. Goes by Hoot."

Lt. WhiteBear took the folder from Mr. Freedman without hesitation despite it's less than cleanly condition, then followed the Tarlachian's gaze to where his hand rested on the room "Sorry MJister Freeman. Didn't mean to imprint the detailing." he removed his hand and backed up a step. "If you mean First Speaker Gibson, he left not that long ago to take his vehicles to TMZIA's and the main check in for the expo. Let me see if I can get a message to them to advise him of your arrival." He unclippede the milnet radio from his belt and sent the message through to the main check in "He's there now and they'll let him know that you asked for him. Would you like a auto transport to convey your vehicles?" He indicated a waiting double decker auto hauler. "Or would you prefer to drive?"

While he waited for Lance to answer he scrolled though the data on his digital clipboard. "I see that your exhibit space is on the ground level of the concourse and your suite reservations are at the Tres D'Or." He noted.

The noise almost drowning out Charli's phone call was indeed All American Muscle, mostly classic in the forms of...

1971 Dodge Challenger RT with a 426 hemi, known as Midnight Blue. One of seventy one ever produced.

http://www.atddm.com/jlcar1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/jlcar1.jpg)

A custom rebuilt 'big bad orange' Cuda, bought last year at the 2007 Barrett-Jackson Annual auction for over half a million dollars, and while the person who's birthday present it had been appreciated the sentiment, she really didn't much care for the car. It was being donated to the auction.

http://www.atddm.com/cuda1a_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cuda1a.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/cuda2a_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cuda2a.jpg)

A rare 1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am convertible, one of only eight ever made

http://www.atddm.com/fbird_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/fbird.jpg)

A 1968 Chevrolet Corvette L-88 Roadster, which had a run of just eighty.

http://www.atddm.com/vette_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/vette.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/vette2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/vette2.jpg)

a more modern beast, one of Corvettes latest offerings, in deepest ebony and looking evil enough that it sould have waited for nightfall to roll out...

http://www.atddm.com/stingray2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/stingray.jpg)

and another of the rarest of the rare pony cars, a 1970 Dodge Challenger Converible R/T, one of only 9 ever made

http://www.atddm.com/rt2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/rt2.jpg)

I am given to understand that the vehicle has no official name released as of yet. And that the various 'we've got the scoop' pronouncements that have given the low slung wickedness various titles are all WRONG!

Ryan held up his hand as the phone rang, and took a quick look around. "Yeah, uh, can ya get me a Guiness?"

Ryan wasn't one to turn down a free service, especially when he was paying what he was for the room. He snapped the phone open, and hit the call button.

"Yo?"

Honey I'm here

Ryan could hardly hear her over the background noise.

"Ya, thats cool. Where are you? Sounds like your standing near someone who don't know what they are doing. Want me to come meet you or what?"
___

Hoot nodded at the information he was recieving.

First, he looked at the Corporal. He was surprised the show hadn't gone to shit yet. Ninety nine percent of the time, there was a reason you let civi's handle things like that. "Yeah, sure. Tell Lance I'll get to him shortly, once I get some work done."

He then turned back to the CSM. "I think we got it all handled, just loading up two cars. Shouldn't be to bad."

After that, he pulled the cell phone back out of his pocket, and called the listed number on the note from the General.

"General Hardcastle, this is Thomas Gibbson. You wanted me to call you?"

"Ya, thats cool. Where are you? Sounds like your standing near someone who don't know what they are doing. Want me to come meet you or what?"

Charli laughed as she replied, the noise ebbing a little as car after car went down the ramp "No it just the planes interior accousitcs. I bought a new car. Where are you at? I'll come to you."

Verona Exhibit.

"Yes we certainly do, but I think several thousand others, all the exhibitors here and those who couldn't come but wanted too agree with us. Jason, if you'll excuse me zIt looks like therer might be a problem with our video." Dan could see that one of his staffers was looking harried as she entered a code string once again into the laptop attached to the very large flat panel screen.

Shaking Jason's hand once again he excused himself and headed over to see if he could assist her.


Verona Exhibit.

"Fred, I am sorry that this is taking so long to start up. This lap top may have ben dropped..No here it goes "She siad with obvious relief just as Mr. Dinwittie reached her. "I've got6 it boss" She reassured him.

She introduced the two men as the opening credits rolled "Fred, this is my boss Dan. Mr. Dinwittie this is Fred, he'swith BazaBurger and has been asking many questions about the cars.

As the video started she explained that it had been shot in the rolling hills sides around Tanaaras capitol, Montgard. "The twists and turns of the highways really show one how the cars handle in an ordinary persons hands"

TMIZIA Main Check In.

"Yes sir, Mister Gibson, I'll pass that back along." Corporal Hughes replied as the ex First Speaker turned away to phone the General. She passed along his reply to Lieutenant Whitebear then waited to lead the Imitoran to his exhibit area, and offer any assisstance she could. It was easy to get confused in the expanse of the airport.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


HeadQuarters Military Airfield, Tarlachian Off loading Zone


"Mister Freeman, This just got to me." Lieutenatnt Whitebear informed Lance of the message from Hoot - repeating it exactly as it had been given to him . "I'll get with him shortly I've got some work to get done. That probably means he's at TMZIA and though the main check in point sir."

"General Hardcastle, this is Thomas Gibbson. You wanted me to call you?"

"Thank you for calling me Hoot. I'd like to invite you, Sinjin and Ryan to dinner tonight. I've spoken with Sinjin aqnd he's free, but I haven't gotten ahold of Ryan yet. Are you free?" It ws obvious to someone in the know that the General wanted to talk about something other than cars, but wouldn't say so openly. But it was too good a opportunity to waste. All most all the people he needed to speak to about certain things in the same area at once with an excellent cover.

OOC: Permission obtained to voice the lieutenant's reply and actions.
IC:
HeadQuarters Military Airfield, Tarlachian Off loading Zone

"If you would take your hand off the car, that'd be nice. Also, do let a good friend of mine know I'm here. Goes by Hoot."

Lt. WhiteBear took the folder from Mr. Freeman without hesitation despite it's less than cleanly condition, then followed the Tarlachian's gaze to where his hand rested on the room "Sorry Mister Freeman. Didn't mean to imprint the detailing." he removed his hand and backed up a step. "If you mean First Speaker Gibson, he left not that long ago to take his vehicles to TMZIA's and the main check in for the expo. Let me see if I can get a message to them to advise him of your arrival." He unclipped the milnet radio from his belt and sent the message through to the main check in "He's there now and they'll let him know that you asked for him. Would you like a auto transport to convey your vehicles?" He indicated a waiting double decker auto hauler. "Or would you prefer to drive?"

While he waited for Lance to answer he scrolled though the data on his digital clipboard. "I see that your exhibit space is on the ground level of the concourse and your suite reservations are at the Tres D'Or." He noted.

"We'll drive. Just point us in the right direction." Lance replied, picking up the portable radio, "We're good." At the same time, the other two cars rumbled to life, having been shut off for a few moments.

Lance himself pressed the gas pedal ever so slightly to give the engine a throaty rumble, taking the pass handed him and hanging it on the rear view mirror. The lieutenant disappeared a few moments to give the others their passes before returning and handing him a finely detailed map, with a red marker detailing exactly where they were to go from their current position. Additionally, he was given each of their photo identification cards to get through security.

Lance merely shook his head. This expo was nothing like the ones run by those who lived their lives for the sheer adrenaline rush. This was a publicity stunt, no more, clearly something to put this nation in the spotlight for something other than military exercises and whatnot. Once again, he found himself remembering that dangerous high speed run, the run that had solidified the friendship he shared with Hoot and the now deceased Fortier.

The lieutenant interrupted his thoughts, returning him to the present.

"Mister Freeman, This just got to me." Lieutenant Whitebear informed Lance of the message from Hoot - repeating it exactly as it had been given to him. "I'll get with him shortly I've got some work to get done. That probably means he's at TMZIA and though the main check in point sir."

Lance nodded in reply, holding up the map for a moment before placing it on the seat next to him. He had already memorized the place and their route to be exact. With that said, he shifted into gear and watched as the speedometer rose quickly through the double digits. A glance in the side mirror showed the others right behind him.

In due time, they slowed and finally stopped at the main check-in point, waiting to be sent on through.

HeadQuarters Military Airfield

Another group, a high dollar collection of mostly classic American muscle, anchored around the latest Vette road monster, had left the airfield at the same time as Lance Freeman's group had. They paced Lance's group easily and while they wouldn't initiate a race, they wouldn't decline one of one was offered - either by Lance or admiring local drivers. They were linked via blue-toothed cell phones and all were excellent drivers.

It was comprised of three women and three men, though two of the men seemed to be only in their teens. Jonni Lea Pettimore (http://www.atddm.com/jonnilea.jpg) was behind the wheel of the Dodge Challenger, Midnight Blue. She was married to David Kelly who was driving the new Vette. They were the parents of the twins, David and Robert (http://www.atddm.com/twins.jpg), who were handling the pair of convertibles. Behind the wheel of the 'Cuda was Rowan Hickok (http://www.atddm.com/rowan.jpg) and classic Vette Roadster held her older sister Willow (http://www.atddm.com/willow.jpg). They were cousins of Jonni Lea's and part of the Pettimore Outlaws, which had over the years had quietly become on of the largest not necessarily legal arms dealers about.

The rest of personnel belonging to Kelly Tuning and Front Runners Automotive Brokers were following along far more sedately.

The two groups arrived at the TMZIA Main Check out simultaneously. There was a bit of a back log at the gate and so Willow and the twins headed over to the Red Moon Customs group to introduce themselves and get closer looks at Lance’s and the other’s cars.

"You aren't out of the US" Willow commented as she circled the trio of Tarlachian vehicles, but it looks and sounds like you all have done right by them. Where are ya’ll from?”

HeadQuarters Military Airfield

Another group, a high dollar collection of mostly classic American muscle, anchored around the latest Vette road monster, had left the airfield at the same time as Lance Freeman's group had. They paced Lance's group easily and while they wouldn't initiate a race, they wouldn't decline one of one was offered - either by Lance or admiring local drivers. They were linked via blue-toothed cell phones and all were excellent drivers.

It was comprised of three women and three men, though two of the men seemed to be only in their teens. Jonni Lea Pettimore (http://www.atddm.com/jonnilea.jpg) was behind the wheel of the Dodge Challenger, Midnight Blue. She was married to David Kelly who was driving the new Vette. They were the parents of the twins, David and Robert (http://www.atddm.com/twins.jpg), who were handling the pair of convertibles. Behind the wheel of the 'Cuda was Rowan Hickok (http://www.atddm.com/rowan.jpg) and classic Vette Roadster held her older sister Willow (http://www.atddm.com/willow.jpg). They were cousins of Jonni Lea's and part of the Pettimore Outlaws, which had over the years had quietly become on of the largest not necessarily legal arms dealers about.

The rest of personnel belonging to Kelly Tuning and Front Runners Automotive Brokers were following along far more sedately.

The two groups arrived at the TMZIA Main Check out simultaneously. There was a bit of a back log at the gate and so Willow and the twins headed over to the Red Moon Customs group to introduce themselves and get closer looks at Lance’s and the other’s cars.

"You aren't out of the US" Willow commented as she circled the trio of Tarlachian vehicles, but it looks and sounds like you all have done right by them. Where are ya’ll from?”

Lance turned his attention from the security detail processing a few of the other expo arrivals ahead of his crew to the feminine voice that addressed him from close by. Looking up to his left, he saw her standing there, and he would later swear something strange had happened to him.

"Thanks" he had started to reply as he opened the door and stepped out. He gave her another look over before turning his attention to her vehicle convoy, a slight smile coming to his face as he recognized them. He turned his attention back to her. He gave her his best winning smile.

"Lance Freeman, Red Moon Customs outta Tarlachia." he introduced himself, a hand extending to her. Just then, the other two people with him approached. To his son, he gestured, "My boy, Josh, and my surrogate son, Jason."

Willow gave Lance a warm smile as she took his prooffered hand and shook it firmly but gently. Her hands and skin were well kept but obviously saw real work. "Willow Hickok. Pleased to meet you Lance." Willow found she liked his smile. She looked the two younger men over her smile still warm nodded a greeting to the two newcomers. "Good to meet you too Josh, Jason. You all have exceedingly nice cars. We're all muscle fans in the Outlaws." Waving the twins over she introduced them.

"These two rapscallions practically begging for a look under the hoods are my nephews Robert and David. Their folks, David and Jonni Lea, infected them before birth with not only the car bug but the car gene as well. Me? I'm only half blooded, and moderately infected. I'm a pilot as well so they don't consider me 'pure' blooded'." Her accent was gently southern with other cultures overlaying it giving it's graciousness an added depth.

Over at the Kelly cars Rowan just shook her head and grinned. She knew her big sister was making friends, it wasw one of her natural gifts. "Whatcha want to bet Dyno that he asks her out to dinner." She scratched the big Russian Shepherd sitting in the front passenger foot well, and draped over the front seat, behind the ears as he cocked his head at her.

"Pure blood or not. If you can drive, then that's good enough." Lance replied, shifting his eyes to the other two with Willow. He could see it in their eyes, the desire. However, they would wait. If they were lucky, he might let them get a look at it up close and personal.

He however, guarded his workmanship well. He didn't want some idiot screwing around and f'ing something up so badly that it'd leave Lance in a murderous rage. His rage was something rarely seen, and one to be reckoned. He kept himself in control though, but sometimes people had a knack for pushing all the wrong buttons. Like the punk kid who thought it'd be funny to break into his shop late one night and steal some high end custom made auto parts. That kid hadn't known who Lance was and how connected he was throughout the underworld street culture. Within ten hours since their disappearance and subsequent discovery of such, the kid was at his front door, face bloodied and mangled beyond recognition, holding a box with everything inside. That was before Lance had his turn with him, to put it nicely.

He gave Willow a daring look, "But the real question is, are you a good enough driver?" The challenge was clear, unspoken. The smile was almost predatory in essence. "Winner decides prize at the line."

Beside him, Josh smiled, almost exactly like his father. He knew what was under the hood of any of the three cars. He had helped put them together after all.

Jonni Leas and David's was a mixed marriage, she had been Army, he Marines, but they both insisted on manners. The twins might be eager beyond bearing to get a look under the hood, but they'd politely wiat until invited to do so
.
Winner decides prize at the line."


Willow raised an eyebrow at the handsome Tarlachian's challenge. Her smile became a wicked grin that closely matched his. Stepping close she went on tip toe, though he wsn't that much taller than she, and whispered in his ear. "Not as good as some, but being a SAR pilot I have lots of stick time and when you're flying in the mountains it takes a delicate touch on what civilians call the joy stick" She looked up at him from under her thick lashes without a trace of guile or embarrasement.

Willow hadn't had many relationships since her husband had died some ten years ago, but she wouldn't turn this man down as she had so many others. There was something she liked about him from the moment she'd seen him.

She laid a feather light kiss on Lances lips, a promissory note of sorts.

"You ain't getting to my stick that easy, lady." Lance replied, turning his head as he heard someone calling out the name of his company. It was one of the military noncoms, clipboard in hand, striding forward to meet them. "Right here." he replied to the man, showing his ID as he did so.

"Just a few minutes here and you'll be in your suites," the soldier announced as he took Lance's ID and swiped it flat across the surface of the clipboard. Instantly, the LCD screen brought information up to view. "You're good to go, Mister Freeman." The same process was repeated for the other two with Lance.

Turning back to Willow, Lance raised an eyebrow, "Thirty minutes. Here."

Slipping into the Trans Am, he rolled it through the entry, followed by the other two cars. The collective rumbling of the muscle cars rattled windows echoed down the long stretch of the ground level. Within minutes, Lance and his two boys were rolling into place inside their designated display area. Emerging from the car, he looked the two of them over, "Do prelims on the Trans. I'm gonna go drop our bags off in the rooms."

"You got it." Jason replied, while Josh merely grinned at his father.

Lance glared at him, "Wipe that smirk off your face boy." he growled before walking away. "Look like a damn fool like that, and I sure as hell didn't raise no fool."

Ten minutes later, Lance had deposited the last duffel bag in the third room, his room. He walked to the window and looked out unto the landscape. Then, he turned and studied the room. "At least it's not a Motel 6." he muttered to himself as he departed the room. He made his way back to the cars.

Thirty minutes. Here."

Willow crinkled her nose at him "Oh you think I'm not?" She asked under her breath as she watched him stride over to the sergeant that had called his company up for processing. "But it's going to have to be an hour" She called after him Better to make him wait a little, let him wonder how interested I am...and who am I fooling? That man makes me tingle!"

She watched the trio drive off with a pleased smile on her lips and only looked away from their taillights when Jonni Lea called out that they were ready to go through. She'd over heard that they were staying at the same hotel Lance and his sons were, but she know that even with the high speed monorail they'd mentioned that she couldn't make it there and back with all she had to do in an hour. "He'll just have to take me as I am." She said to herself with a sassy grin, as she started up the classic Vette and followed the others to their display location.

She was pleased to note that it was less than fifty feet from the Red Moon Customs exhibit. She helped jockey the vehicle into the proper positions and set up the rest of the display. Though they weren't finished when she saw Lance returning to where his two sons were hard at work making each vehicle's perfect, she excused herself and headed to intercept him

With hands on her jeans clad hips she looked at Lance in mock anger "So you're just going to take a kiss and offer nothing in return but comments about your stick?"

No it just the planes interior accousitcs. I bought a new car. Where are you at? I'll come to you.

Ryan chuckled. He knew well that she had gotten a new ride, he had been told ahead of time. When one was responsible for building some of the fastest street cars outside Imitora, one was able to learn many things about who was going fast, and how fast they were going. However, despite the fact that he had the first production run tee shirt based on Charli's new ride all wrapped up, just for her, in his duffle, he would play along.

"Well, thats a good thing. Some of the rides out here are down right deadly. Not as fast as our stuff, but fast enough. Doc and Rays are already on their way over, most of the crew is just chilling out by the plane, with Tim most likely already drunk."

Tim wasn't an alchoholic, he was an Imitoran. He just happened to enjoy partying a few hours earlier than most. And he was also one of the best damned sticks in a Porsche this side of the Stuttgart plant. And even on the other side. He could also do things to the Tuten Terrors' computers that not even Gemballa had been able to replicate. Hoot had tried many a time to steal him away, but Tim was a loyal Psychotic, as many of the tuners were refered to at Psychosis.

Ryan gave Charli directions to the hotel, and how to get to their room. "Just press the button for the top floor. I'll see ya in a bit babe, love you."
___

Hoot wasn't able to discern the General's tone, but it was something he couldn't quite place.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see if I can grab Ryan and meet you all somewhere. Where should we meet you."

He waited for the General's response, while looking out a full floor to ceiling window, making sure the light was just right. There was someone out there he recognized, but just couldn't place his finger on. Of course, at 53, his one time accute sniper eyes weren't as good as they used to be. He half listened to the General, memorizing the location, but was more concerned on what was outside.

"Yes, General. We'll see you then."
___

Doc and Rays were on their way out of the airport grounds when they noticed the long line of classic cars.

Rays just nodded, more so out of a general enthusiasts respect, but not exactly like, of the vehicles. Not his style. As far as he was concerned, anyone could through four hundred cubes at a car and go fast. It took real skill to do it like he did.

Doc, on the other hand, held a slight admiration for the cars. Someone had to start the trend. To bad ninety percent of them couldn't modernize. Fuel injection was such a simple thing, and one of these days, those muscle heads would get it into their heads that carbs just weren't as good. That, and sometimes you were better off with a small motor than the big blocks. Higher compression, more room to move, lighter blocks, and more boost. And then there was the dual stage waiting.

By the time Rays had pulled off to the side, both crews had already made their way through. "Lets wait a bit," Doc suggested. "Besides, Charli and Ryan could use some alone time."

Just over an hour later, the two crews were back, discussing most likely the terms of the race, and Doc and Rays jumped out of their car, moving across the open area with ease. From behind his sunglasses, Doc had eyed up the contestants, and their rides.

"How ya'll doing," Doc called out, eyeing the cars through his sunglasses. Rays stood back a bit. "You got some decent rides. Interested in any runs? Run some American muscle across the board?"

With hands on her jeans clad hips she looked at Lance in mock anger, "So you're just going to take a kiss and offer nothing in return but comments about your stick?"

Lance laughed, turning away as he read through a checklist completed by the two boys. He was pleased to see nothing wrong. Turning his head around to her, he replied with a grin, "The kiss was nice, but seriously, do you think I'm going to fall for your wiles? Come on now..." He gave her a half-hearted scolding look.

Just then, another person walked up.

"How ya'll doing," Doc called out, eyeing the cars through his sunglasses. Rays stood back a bit. "You got some decent rides. Interested in any runs? Run some American muscle across the board?"

"Well, actually, we're about to do a run ourselves. Seems the lady here has got somethin' to prove. I'm willing to give her the chance. You're welcome to run too if you'd like. We'll be starting shortly."

"Just press the button for the top floor. I'll see ya in a bit babe, love you."

"Love you too Handsome" and then it hit her right as Ryan hung up "Just press the button for the top floor? Rayn?" She wondered how much something where the destination was the top floor ran. Ryan had worked hard for years to get her to spend money with some imitation of freely, but with her upbringing it was hard for her to not be as thrify as possible. Charli woried about the amount she had just laid out for her new car even though it hadn't broken fifty thousand and that was pennies compared to the cost of one of Ryan's custom built Dominators. She wondered if some day he might build a car just for her, but doubted that he would. She more hoped he might find time to give her new car a thorough tuning and upgrade.

Her smile was brilliant as she thought of her lover. He treated her like royality, like no one else ever had. She often thanked the Divine for her and Ryan finding one another. He was every thing she had ever dreamed of in a man, and she never took his love for granted.

Still smiling she slid behind the door of her new - well new to her- ride - a glossy black 1987 two door. It had been showroomed all it's life and was in pristine condition - having been first carefully broken in, then driven ten miles each week on the perfect pavement of a track and kept in perfect tune and perfect maintence.

It was the car that the phrase "Darth Vader's Car" had been originally coined for, and despite all others, still truly owned it. Like Davids new Vette, Charli almost wanted to wait for night fall and ease out under cover of darkness. But as bad as the car was now, after time in Ryan's hands, it would be even more evil. That brought a small cat's grin to Charli's lips as she drove sedately out of airfield and to the Gibson Hotel in Liberty city. She'd cover Ryan's eyes as she brought him in sight of the car.

VLT Exhibit

'Oh yes, everything is perfect as of now. No complaints, not from me, not from my staff, I believe.' Mayer answered, while quickly looking around the exhibit.

'With this cars, we discuss everything on a case-to-case basis. It could be cheaper with large amounts of similar cars, or more expensive with small amounts of vehicles with special requests. Most of the police conversion work is done by humans, and not by robots, which makes it more expensive in the first place. Expect every car to be a tad more expensive than the base price of the vehicle; some 10,000 USD at least. I might want to say that the Van Luxemburgian Autobahnpolizei is one of our best customers, and this car here is one of the most well-equipped versions we ever delivered to them. The drivers sometimes describe it as a rolling christmas tree with presents under it. Hundreds of these cars have been bought by our Autobahnpolizei, and we haven't heard any complaints yet. But ofcourse, you might want to know more about the model, I suppose?'

Mayer took a Brochure of the Monteluci Duca (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12497760&postcount=13), which he handed to the General.

'This is the car we're talking about. The one exhibited here is equipped with the 3.2 V6 Biturbo engine, which is the top-of-the-range model if you don't count the limited edition SFS version. 330 PS, 293 km/h, 5.8 seconds to 100 km/h... This vehicle can keep up with quite some cars out there, I can tell you that. Ofcourse, I can tell you stories about these cars in Van Luxemburgian service being able to stop BMW M3's, but that all depends on the situation. Officially I can't say this, but I have heard that the Autobahnpolizei in Van Luxemburg is in discussion with Monteluci if it would be possible to produce extra SFS'es for police services... Though it would be an expensive solution for a new police vehicle: everyone knows that an upcoming Monteluci Granduca would be a better solution. Or a VLT ofcourse, but we have heard complaints about their handling being slightly inferior to the Monteluci's. VLT's tuning department, Weiß Motorsport, is busy with solving those problems for the police vehicles, but for now, the Monteluci's are the way to go.'

'Concerning the options for equipping these cars as police vehicles, we are very flexible. We prefer to mount low-profile LED lightbars on these vehicles, since they do not affect aerodynamics that much, but ofcourse, it all depends on the individual orders made by our customers. Delivery will take place either from the Monteluci factory in Venezia, for this particular model, or they can be delivered to any desired place. It is all up to the customer.'

Afterburner Autmotive
Hanger 6

John Walsh helped his staff to hand out pamphlets on Afterburner's 2007 lineup, and the list of dealers. He was pleased to note that several inquired interest in the Firebolt, and even some ordered it!

He was happy that he had convinced the customers of how the voice command driving system would work.

VLT Exhibit

"How many of your SFS's do you have available? Though thats for a different department than our police department." He asked as he gave the brochure a quick once over, then settled down to look at the stats in depth.

"It's going to be your 3.2 MD V6 model, need that automatic transmission"
General Hardcastle said as he looked over the brochure and ticked off a list of what wasn't needed in the vehicles with a smile. "Don't need heated seats, or the sunroof. Heck its the dead of winter here now and you'll notice that even at three in the morning it didn't get below fifty. Average ranges from the low 70's to the low 90's, and we'll definitely want the a/c."

"Yes on the four wheel drive addition, but we won't need your audio package, We'd send you our e-com and up-link system to go in it's place. How much would that substitution cost?"

"And on light bars, we'll want roof mount light bars on only half of them, and the low profile version you menioned will do fine. On the other hallf we'd want the light bars behind the front grill and on the rear console, visible though the rear window." He thought aloud, visualizing what it wouild look like, then nodded. "Yes definitely"

"TMZ will contract with your for a thousand of the 3.2 MD V6 with those modification. No heated seats, no sun roof, no audio package- substitute the communications and uplink suite we'll send you instead, add the four wheel drive, and lights as I mentioned. What sort of price can you give me?"

"And all the SFS available with all the presents, plus the four wheel drive." God's he loved playing with a national budget, and he hadn't gotten to the emergency and fire vehicles yet.

Then a thought hit him and he looked at Mister Mayer with narrowed, speculative eyes. He lowered his voice so that it was just between the two of them "Is Monteluci or VLT working on hydrogen fuel cell technology?"

TMZIA, outside the concourse

"My wiles?" Willow spluttered as Lance turned away. "Okay, for that you're paying." She headed back to the Kelly Tuning, ForeRunner Automotive exhibit calling for Jonni Lea as she did so.

It was the 1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am convertible, top down,- that had bee modded within an inch of it's long life, primarily in the replacing the engine from a 400 to a 455 block *- that Willow swung out of when she had arrived at the impromptu starting line to await Lance's pleasure.

She eyed the large man warily but gave his Cobra an even warier look, she'd seen the seeminly untouched cars leap up and bite an unsuspecting racer on the rear. She knew her much more experienced cousin, Jonni Lea hated them with a passion. Flashing a look at where Jonni Lea and the others stood on the side lines she shrugged and Jonni Lea returned one of her own.

"How ya'll doing," Doc called out, eyeing the cars through his sunglasses. Rays stood back a bit. "You got some decent rides. Interested in any runs? Run some American muscle across the board?"

"Well, actually, we're about to do a run ourselves. Seems the lady here has got somethin' to prove. I'm willing to give her the chance. You're welcome to run too if you'd like. We'll be starting shortly

Willow nodded. The newcomer wasn't really on her mind, getting the better of Lance was, and if she lost to the snake then so be it. "Yeah join in, the more the merrier. We're going out to where the exhibition hangers are, looping around them and then coming back here. I asked our laison and he says it's ten point five miles over all, according to the odometer on his golf cart."

Gibson Hotel

Charli looked around the ground floor of the hotel relieved to notice that while it was upscale it wasn't over done and might not be as bad as she imagined it. Shr found the private elevator and she lost some of the reassureance she had gaine. It ws opulently done, and it was with trepedation that she pushed the button discretely labeled penthouse.

The sight of the marvelous Maxfield Parrish style mural and the massive chandelere hanging from the high ceiling had her biting her lip.

The butler opening the doors, forewarned as he had been with Ryan made her close her eyes momentarily as she set her suitcase and over nighter down. "Ryan!?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seeing as I am not a professional tuner, designer, or racer of thses marvlous vehicles - I got my engine and other equipment from actual racing Firebird TA's of the same year. Only difference is that 'mine' is a convertible***.

Engine: 455 block** 0.030 over (honed with torque plate), Kauffman Racing Equipment steel 4 bolt caps with ARP studs, factory windage tray, Melling oil pump (pn M54DS -$25 from Summit-don't waste money on "Big" names), BME aluminum rods, Ross pistons and Ferrea .990 pins, Speed Pro Plasma Moly rings (top ring gap .024 second ring .018), Comp Cams roller camshaft (272/284 deg. @0.050 .693/.693" lift), Crower roller lifters with no restrictors, Comp Cams custom length pushrods (9.300" .080 wall), Kauffman Racing Equipment rocker shafts, Wenzler Series 2 heads (328fcm) stainless 2.15 &1.77 valves, 65cc combustion chambers, Crower roller valve springs, ARP head stud kit, Fel Pro 1016 wire ring head gaskets (reusable many times on the same block/head), Ported Victor intake, Holley 1050 (8082) carb 97/98 jets no power valves, HEI dist. with MSD 6A and 3 step ignition retard (removes 4 deg of ignition timing when nitrous button is pushed -for 34 deg total advance), Accel super coil (HEI style), 38 deg total advance (without nitrous) Champion plugs, Hooker 2" headers, NOS systems Super Powershot system, Fuel system: 1 Mallory 140 and 2 port regulator dedicated to nitrous system, 1 Barry Grant 280 pump and BG 2 port regulator feeds motor only

Drivetrain: Turbo 400 by Ziggy's Hi Performance Transmissions in Mt. Holly, NJ (no brake) call Ziggy's at (609) 894 0151, ATI Treemaster 9"converter (stalls @2500 w/out nitrous and 4000 with), Original factory 12 bolt rear with Strange spool and Moser axles and c-clip kit, Richmond 3.73 rear gears, Competition Eng. Bolt on ladder bars, Factory rear leaf springs, Moroso solid body bushings. Tires by Hoosier racing tires.

Body & Interior: Both are stock. Body weighs in at 3700lbs with driver

Best quarter mile time: 9.74 @139.2mph (This car is registered and inspected and is driven on the street regularly during spring and summer.

**The Super Duty 455 V8 (SD-455) was introduced in the Pontiac Firebird in 1973. "Super Duty" was the name Pontiac used on its high performance (i.e. race ready) engines in the early 1960's, and the Super Duty 455 was a street legal race prepped engine. All SD-455's were hand assembled, and had a reinforced block, special cam shaft, aluminum pistons, oversize valves and header-like exhaust manifolds. Pontiac rated the SD-455 engines at a stout 310 bhp and 390 lb-ft, but experts agreed that it was closer to 370 bhp. This level of engine ratings were unheard of in an era when other manufacturer's engines' output were falling dramatically, and the Firebird became the only true performance car remaining in the market. Unfortunately, Super Duty engines were expensive and therefore rare; only 252 Trans Am's and 43 Formula 455's received the SD-455 engine. The Super Duty 455 would only survive until 1974, when it finally was dropped.

Ratings:
1973: 455 (SD) V8 310 bhp @ 4000 rpm, 390 lb-ft @ 3600 rpm.

***About the 1969 Firebird Trans Am Convertible...

This car is 1 of 8 that were made. 4 automatics and 4 standard transmissions were made. This one is a 4-speed. This is absolutely on of the rarest Pontiacs made. It is red with a black interior and a black leather top The only one made with this color combination. It had a WS4 HO Ram Air III 335HP motor and a 4-speed. The car has a special hood made just for these cars. The car has a woodgrain steering wheel, Quadrajet 4BBL carb, chrome valve covers, free flow dual exhaust, rear spoiler, heavy duty suspension, Safe-T-Track, power disc brakes, power steering, F70-14 tires, custom trim interior, front fender air vents, factory console, wood shift knob and tinted glass.

Doc smiled. "Glad ya'll are letting me in. Wasn't sure if you'd back off with my baby here," he said, patting the top of the SVT.

http://www.atddm.com/cobra_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cobra.jpg)

The 2004 STV Cobra, from the outside, looked just like any other Cobra. The only major addition had been the set of American Racing Torque Thrust D wheels. Normally shod with half way decent Nittos up front and properly sized Mickey T's on the back, this time it was wearin Pirelli rubber all the way around, to the tune of their top of the line PZero race tires. While it looked simply lowered, it was really a full round Tien race set, with matching Eibach front and rear sways. And the big rotors behind the wheel looked suspiciously like a Brembo big break kit.

He reached into the car, and keyed the ignition. A saftey delete removed the need to engage the clutch to start the car, and Doc often left it in nuetral, not first gear, as many would tell you to. The starter motor whined for a short second, and then the car roared to life, a high pitched whine of metal on metal over powering the intake and exhaust.

A Kenne Bell.

The Kenne Bell twin screw was a positive displacement unit, rated at 2.8L. The company had nicknamed it the "Blowzilla", Doc called it his little heart breaker. Running 26psi of boost, it was capable of pushing a well built Cobra far past the one thousand rear wheel horsepower mark. Doc had been just fine with the 910 ponies it was pushing out now, good for a high nine second pass on the dual stage with drag slicks, and well able to let the car see speeds in excess of one eighty with little issue.

In this case, the big twin screw was fed through a Psychosis motor sports fenderwall intake flowing into the Kenne Bell Big Oval throttle body. The internal bits of the engine had been Chryo treated, a little technique that few knew about, and even fewer did. Ryan's shop was the only one in Imitora that offered Chryo treatment to cars, and it was a pricey option. Psychosis mid range cams handled the valves, and the exhaust was pumped out through stainless steel, equal length long tube headers. A Basani X-Pipe collected the header waste, and pumped out the burnt air and fuel mixture through a custom true dual over the axle set of pipes. Doc would wait till they were at the line to open the electric cut outs, which dumped the exaust gas just past the headers, and freed up an extra good bunch of ponies. Full AEM treatment handled delivering the beast enough 98oct Imitoran pump to keep moving. The entire process was managed by a stand alone ECU that Doc had tuned himself, and on the streets, not a dyno.

The dual stage Nitrous kit was set up for drag applications, so he would leave it be for know. The rest of the drive line had been carbonfiberized for strength and weight savings, and the final drive ratio had been left alone. For serious track times, he often swapped in a set of 4.10 gears. But the stock ratio would proove more than enough for now. A BBK short shift kit and Spec Stage clutch rounded out the go fast bits.

Inside, the car was full wieght. The boost pressure and oil pressure gauges were mounted in a frog eye pod on the stearing wheel, so the casual on looker wouldn't guess that there was some serious power being pumped out of the beast. Equally stealth mounted A/F ratio and boost temperatur gauges sat where the ash tray once was. The nitrous switch was hidden in the center arm rest. An eight point cage was installed, but fitted into the natural interior of the car, keeping it out of sight.

At idle, it sounded like nothing more than a mildly modded Cobra, and the onlookers would think that. It would take no less than five grand in cash up front just to get Doc to release the hood latches. Another five or six to get him to open the hood. And before a race? Well, a credit card with access, for starters.

"Don't wory. Snake bite aint too venomous," he joked. Rays just sighed at the comment. It could have been worse. At least he hadn't been asked to race. There were more than enough Evos out their tearing it up in the top ends, but he was a straight line guy with a love of all things AWD. An odd combonation. His Evo would peg the speedometer at 170...and go no further. But then again, it also took him just over eight and a half seconds on race gas with methane and full boost to hit that one seventy mark. And his car was daily drivable with a skilled foot. With some gear tuning, he could turn it into a top end monster that would be able to run close to Fortier's Supra, but it wasn't what he wanted. Instead, he just waved Doc on, and began to walk back to the air port. By know, people had to have been gathering at the display for Psychosis, and while he didn't know full tech specs all that much, his marketing firm and skill would at least let him rub elbows and get a good following.

Doc waved back, and slid into the Cobra. "We starting from here, or where?" he asked, not having to shout over the almost suspiciously quiet Ford.
___

Ryan?!

Ryan looked up from his copy of Automobile magazine, and chuckled. "Bout time," he mused to himself, and walked out to the main foyer.

"Mr. Fortier, this is Miss..." the buttler started. Ryan gracefully cut him off.

"Charli Firewalker. I know." He smilled, and swept her up in a hug, pressing his lips against hers passionately. "Been to long," he said softly, still smiling.

"How are ya?"
___

Hoot had made his way outside to the exhibition hangers. One, he wanted to give his crew one last pep talk before the show, and two, it was the most logical starting, and end point, for the race that he saw brewing. He knew the Cobra, it was Ryan's partner's. And it had been seen tearing up its fair share of 1/4 and full mile drags as well as road courses.

He made his way out to what he thought would be a suitable vantage point just outside his own hanger, hoping to at least catch the start, if not a good chucnk of the final stretch.

TMZIA, outside the concourse

Jonni Lea, seeing that Willow and Lance were still brangling verbally with one another quickly came over and circled the Cobra in a wide arc. Then she crouched down so that her head was level with the drivers window, but she didn't touch the car. "I'm Jonnie Lea Pettimore, of Front Runner Automotive. I'm always suspicious of a Cobra that doesn't sound as mean as it should. And I recognised the shop name when we set up our rides"

Indeed Psychosis, Red Owl Customs, Kelly Tuning/ Front Runner Automotive and Valhalla Motor Sports were all within speaking distance of one another. Jonnie Lea held out her hand to Doc.

"I came down with Charli Firewalker, found her her new ride. Listen after the expo closes tonight, would ya'll care to run the roads. This being mostly mountain, it ought to have lots of twisties for fun, and we brought plenty of home brew. It's kinda the family speciality you might say."

Jonni Lea seen and admired, and even beaten one or two, Psychosis tune jobs. She knew that the times she'd won had been due to her skill as a driver. Driving though was a secondary passion. Her family, the family business, and especially David came first.

The Penthouse, Gibson Hotel

Charli returned the kiss just as passionately not wanting it to end and sighing slightly in disappointment when it did.

"Been to long

"Indeed" Her smile was radiant as she looked at the man who held her heart completely. "But I spent some money." She said almost guiltily as she pulled a slender box of dark burlwood out of the nearest duffle and handed it to Ryan.

"I saw this and couldn't pass it up. It's the Imitoran reserve edition Tourbillion (http://www.watchreport.net/uimg/1184672205.jpg)" She explained as she watched him open it.

"With you working for Gryphon I thought you might need a dress watch that while very classy was very understated, and yet tough enough to handle the shop. It's titanium, and carbon fibre." She hoped he liked it, for it had cost more than her car had.

"Oh and there's something else I'd like you to see. It's with my other suitcases." She was tugging him out of the entry and towards the elevator as she spoke, eyes bright.

The elevator slid silently closed behind them and the trip was made with out them realizing it as Charli claimed another kiss. When the doors slid open she led a thoroughly distracted Ryan out with one hand covering his eyes. She'd arranged for a unseen but waiting garage attendant to turn off most of the lights in the area, so that the black beast was neawrly invisible. Once they were in place she waved a signal as she pulled her hand from over Ryan's eyes and the lights came back on slowly, bit by bit revealing her 'new' car.

http://www.atddm.com/chrli_small.gif (http://www.atddm.com/chrli.gif) http://www.atddm.com/GNX1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/GNX1.jpg)

This is a time setting post - every one is now at the 'time' set in this post...

But for now It is late in the day before the Grand Opening of The Militarized Zones Automotive Excellence Exposition. This day has seen a few late arrivals, and many people vising the expo- but those were limited to the five thousand personell who were most directly involved with setting up the venue. It was a small reward for all their hard work.

The tarmac has been cleared as the lucky few gathered to see the unofficial race that was about to take place. As well as the new chopper that had eagerly taken up postition to broad cast the race from it's airborn vantage point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The set up for the exposition had taken five exhausting days, with planes arriving from around the world almost continuously. Many problems, accidents and unexpected events - as per usual with any sort of undertaking such as this - had been dealt with and over come. All was ready every one waiting wit bated breath..

Tomorrow at 10 am, the show would officially open. Thousands of hotel rooms were filled to capacity with eager tourists.


There would be more, official racing, during the exposition. The Formula One teams would have a series of three races, as would the other catagories. Demonstrations of drifting, and other driving skills would be held as well.


Level 0 - sub level- where the sub way that comes from HeadQuaters City, the capitol city arrives. This underground level holds the more pedestrian areas of the auto exhibit- parts booths, 'car toyz' dealers, the lower end jewelry, automotive clothes, and auto themed arts well as several tattoo parlors. There are plenty of escalators and elevators to takearrivals to the ground and upper floors. Lost and found is on this level as is the main seciruty holding facility.

Level 1 -ground level - The slide walks and electrams from the massive parking garages come to the ground level entering at the east and west wings depending upon which garage they come from. The east wing holds American made off road vehicles, the west wing hold british made vehicles. The east museum space hold the Bond car collection, the west museum space holds the collection of the Tanaaran Monarch. In between those two spaces are, at the west end Psychosis, Bat Shit Crazy, Tanaara Motor Sports, Kelly Tuning- Front Runner Automotive Broker, Red Owl Customs, and others with NAIS at the east end between the theater and the Bond cars.

http://www.atddm.com/1floor_small.gif (http://www.atddm.com/1floor.gif)

Level 2 - The high speed monorails terminals are on this level though the actual boarding takes place up on level four where the over head tracks are. Again the east wing is American manufacturers this time the 'foreign manufacturers that have plants in the US' - Toyota, Honda and Hyundai though the also had exhibits else where. The west wing is more British automobiles. The museum spaces at both ends hold some of the collection loaned by the Smithsonian. In between are New Owl, Verona, BazaBurger and more.

http://www.atddm.com/2floor_small.gif (http://www.atddm.com/2floor.gif)

Level 3 thru 9 - Jewelry and the most expensive of auto themed art were on levels 3 and up. The Third level was the 'home' of the German contingent, and Level Four was Italian, Five & Six every thing Japan and other nations considered to be in the 'far east'. The Seventh and Eight levels were solely the domain of the U.S.'s Big 3 -GM, Ford, and Chrysler - and these levels were in addition to the large areas they had in the east wing that took up some 70% of that wing on levels 1 thru 8.

Level nine was motorcycle heaven.

And level 10? That was closed - and heavily guarded -for the moment. No one who had asssissted with the set up of level 10 was inevidence. Everything had come in mamaoth crates via over a dozen of the largest transport planes that bore no markings.

Though some 250 of the very most top level personel of the various companies and nations exhibiting had engraved reservations to a seven course formal dinner with cocktails before, black tie required, up on that level tonight, before the expostion opened - They would get to meet, in person, the largest benefactors for the charity auction that the TMZAEE was hosting and also the person responsible for the most vehicles on display.

Accelerus Dioce was a bit disappointed by his suitemate, and missing his wife. Sondra was not a bad-looking woman, certainly, but he intended to remain faithful to Dahlia even if the chance arose for him to be unfaithful to her. Not that such a chance was likely to occur, given his age and blunt manners. He had long since lost the charms of youth.

Argenti was another very good-looking woman, but it had been clear to Accelerus that she and Della were an item. Perhaps Sondra would get her head out of her books and charts long enough to find herself a good fellow to warm her bed. If not, that was too bad, but ultimately her lookout. The older man had no tendencies towards matchmaking, and doubted this was the place to do it even if he were so inclined. His job here was to make sure HotRodia was represented well, but not to ruffle any feathers. Meritania had been very explicit with her instructions, expressly forbidding the infamously tactless Dioce from doing any racing. She knew damn well he would begin the trash talk with ease if he got anywhere near a race.

Accelerus decided that he should at least wander around the facilities and see if there were anyone interested in getting a friendly international game of poker going. He was bored of sitting around and not causing any trouble, and it was the ladies' responsibility to handle the display and marketing work with the cars, so he needn't concern himself with that sort of responsibility.

I'm Jonnie Lea Pettimore, of Front Runner Automotive. I'm always suspicious of a Cobra that doesn't sound as mean as it should. And I recognised the shop name when we set up our rides. I came down with Charli Firewalker, found her her new ride. Listen after the expo closes tonight, would ya'll care to run the roads. This being mostly mountain, it ought to have lots of twisties for fun, and we brought plenty of home brew. It's kinda the family speciality you might say.

"Doc Henderson, pleasure's mine."

He extended his hand, and returned a firm, yet not challanging, hand shake. He nodded politely, but hesitated on making comments about her respective stake. He wouldn't be lying if he said he hadn't heard of it, but then again, it was odd for Imitorans to go outside their own borders to modify their cars. And that included the mega shops, like HKS, Lingenfelter, and Abt.

"Dunno if I'd be up for a mountain run, this here can do a road course on short order, but is more or less a straight line ass kicker. Ya might wanna find Tim, he's around here somewhere. He handles all the super twisties with a wide bodied Caymen."

Doc looked up, watching the other two roll away towards the starting line.

"Looks like my cue. I'll be seeing ya around, nice to meet ya," Doc finished. He offered a parting hand shake, and made a mental note to see what these mountain types liked to run.

Minutes later, he rolled up between Lance and Willow, waiting for a flager or at least some kid to get the set up done. While he waited, he reached down, and flipped an almost hidden hat switch. Within the next second, the Cobra went from a mildly upset grumble to something totally different. Gone was the restrained sound of the custom exhaust, tuned to yeild excellent power yet a slightly more civilized tone.

With the cut outs dumping the exhaust gas right after the headers, the rumble seemed to notch up a bit in its idle, and the gear whine of the twin screw seemed to vibrate louder. The car no longer sounded like the restrained street monster it had moments before. No, know it flexed real muscle. That quiet guy in the corner of the bar that you just knew could kick some ass in a bar fight had just stood up.
___

Ryan thanked Charli graciously for the watch with a hug and another kiss. As she lead him out to the new car, he slipped out a well folded package from his bag, and followed with excitement. Charli would most likely kill him when she found out he had used a few connections to know what she purchased long before he had even left Imitora for the show, but hoped she would like the tee shirt. It wasn't a watch, or a car, but it was nice. At least he thought so.

As she unveiled the car, Ryan smiled.

"Nice," he commented, looking at it from where he stood.

"You don't sound extatic?" she asked.

"Well, truth be told, I knew you were going to get it. Remeber that guy who had a Porsche build not to long back? Well he called me to let me know he had seen you in it, so I went a head and had something made for you already."

He pulled the package out from behind his back, borwn paper wrapping well folded over something soft.

"Its nothing power related, but we can take care of that later."

He smiled as she opened the package, and held up the shirt. On the front of the plain black tee was the Psychosis Motorsports logo, a white, tribalized letter P superimposed over a somewhat equally stylized M. Beneath it was the shop moto: Caena Turata. Ancient Imitoran for without fear. Few outside the shop knew that by replacing the last leter 'a' with the letter 'o', it would retranslate as without sanity. Keeping the last a the same, but changing the 'u' to a 'y' and the first a to an 'e' would change it to without equal. Ryan had kept this all in mind when designing the logo.

On the back of the shirt, however, is where it got fun. A sort of hand drawing of the outline of a 1987 Buick GNX with plumes of smoke pouring off the tires. Surounding the image was the unofficial definition of Buick. Butt Ugly in Central Kentucky.

Doc had laughed when he first saw it, and knew that once it went to market, it had to be the new best selling shirt, overtaking the long standing "I did your mom, and she liked it" around a four foot wheel lifting image of the new Shelby GT500, or the other best seller, the "I'll race ya from a roll" wrapped around a 1998 Toyota Supra.

"Like it?"

Not that far from the Hot Rodia
"Hey, opps! Sorry" Came an male voice and some one practically fell over the HotRodian as he wandered away from his nations exhibit, and a heavy black thorn wood cane landed on his shoe.

"Sorry about that, didn't look where I was going." the tall man said - his accent pegged him as being from the American south -as he leaned down a little awkwardly - his left leg seemed to be some what stiff - and grabbed for the cane, but his reaching fingers just missed it.

http://www.atddm.com/III.png

The long sleeve cammo patterened shirt he wore open over a well fitting black tee shirt, was old and worn but clean. On the left arm it had a disctinctive custom patch.

http://www.atddm.com/pettimore.jpg

The Gibson Hotel, parking garage

Like it?"

Ryan got the answer. The kiss left them both breathless. And Charli didn't kill him for having inside information, not with him smiling at her with an ever so slightly anxious look in his eyes.

"I want to wear it, but right now I am absolutely grimey from the trip. Let me get a shower and I will wear this when we head to the Expo. It needs to be shown off."

She snuggled up against him, her head on his shoulder. "I missed you so" She sighed softly. She started to say somthing more then stopped, contenting herself to just being back in his arms. She'd try to find the courage to ask him a very imnportant question later.

TMZIA, outside the west end of the concourse

Willow spun on her heel away from Lance, calling over her shoulder. "Yeah it's not the one I drove in. I don't have my car here, I ws just ferrying that one. Are you afraid to race this one? Afraid I'll beat you too badly?" She taunted as she strode back over to the Firebird TA and slid back behind the wheel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Looks like my cue. I'll be seeing ya around, nice to meet ya,"

Jonni Lea shook Docs hand again. "Oh I wasn't thinking about racing, just driving for the fun of it. But all of ya'll are welcome." She stepped back and watch him roll up to the starting line.

She waved to Robert for him to go flag, smiling as the yound man ran quickly to do his mothers bidding. When the Cobra rumbled a new song she winced, knowing that her guess had been correct. Willow and the Tarlachian were about to get smeared.

Not that far from the Hot Rodia
"Hey, opps! Sorry" Came an male voice and some one practically fell over the HotRodian as he wandered away from his nations exhibit, and a heavy black thorn wood cane landed on his shoe.

"Sorry about that, didn't look where I was going." the tall man said - his accent pegged him as being from the American south -as he leaned down a little awkwardly - his left leg seemed to be some what stiff - and grabbed for the cane, but his reaching fingers just missed it.

The long sleeve cammo patterened shirt he wore open over a well fitting black tee shirt, was old and worn but clean. On the left arm it had a disctinctive custom patch.



Accelerus picked up the cane easily and placed it in the hand of the gentleman who had almost fallen over him. Most HotRodians would have been irritated by the old man's clumsiness, but with the cyber-chemical enhancements keeping Accelerus quite fit and healthy at his ripe old age of 127, he was not bothered by it in the slightest. On the contrary, he was pleased to find someone with whom he might share a good game of poker.

Accelerus decided for once to be personable rather than irascible. He observed, "I can tell by your accent we share a common heritage."

"What is your name, and would you care for a game of Texas Hold 'em to relax from a tiring day of looking at fantastic automobiles?"

OOC: For more information on Accelerus, see the article (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Accelerus_Dioce) on NSwiki.

Near the HotRodian Exhibit

"What is your name, and would you care for a game of Texas Hold 'em to relax from a tiring day of looking at fantastic automobiles?"


"Johnny Lee Pettimore, pleased to meet you" Three as his family called him, held out his hand in a friendly fashion. but he kinda groaned when Texas Holdem was mentioned "I'm from the hicks and we've never kept up with fads in poker. I play old fashioned Stud and Draw. Would sticking to what I know be acceptable?"

Johnny Lee wasn't that old, just in his sixties, but he'd gone grey while still in his thirlites, and his left legs stiffness was the legacy of 'Imperial entanglements'. One didn't get to be the largest ams dealer operating out of the States by being law abiding. But then again while the Pettimores were many things, they had been never that.

"However the reason I was in such a hurry is I just got a call from one of my kissing cousins that another of the same is about to get her butt wiped by a super snake. And seeing how as it's family I ought to go and watch, though I have to admit to not being an complete addict like much of the family. Guns are more my interest."

In a country where gun ownership was manadatory, carryinging openly was not a problem, and the gun on the gentlemans hip was a classic forty five from Caspain Arms (http://www.geminicustoms.com/Gallery/DSC03030.JPG). A Full custom, Commander length, Colt slide on a Briley forged frame with Wicked Grips done in dark wood and inlaid with a incised, 'etched and dressed' 10 karat gold shield bearing the same device as he wore on his shoulder.

VLT Exhibit

'Well, we currently have around 500 of the original 1000 still available, but we're very picky with our customers buying those cars. We don't accept large orders of them either. Neither do we sell the SFS'es to what we classify as 'HRG's', High Risk Groups. We can try to do the same with your government as we do with ours, and convert Biturbo's into SFS'es, technically. You won't get the changes to the interior and exterior that make it special, only the engine and chassis.'

As Mayer noted the order down on a form, he went on talking to General Hardcastle.

'You are aware that the 3.2 MD are Diesel engines, right? They don't differ too much with the petrol ones nowadays due to modern technology, but it is still quite a decrease in power we're talking about. We can arrange taking off those systems you mentioned, which means we can take $3000 off the price, but removing the audio system will also make it necessary to remove the satnav, since they are combined into one. I do think it is possible to combine your communication equipment and the like into the satnav, however. Everything taken together, we will be talking about a car worth some $42,000 USD. The ones without the lightbar will cost you some $40,000 USD, though. Low-profile LED lightbars are very expensive, especially if they would be bought at a third party. Luckily we provide our own, which makes them slightly cheaper. Now, I'm not completely familiar with Fahrenheit, but I believe 90 degrees F will work out into 32 degrees Celsius, which makes it some 25-27 degrees C on average in summer... You know, I'll try to make arrangements to increase the capacity of the airconditioning system, so it has better cooling ability. I'll ask the technicians in Venezia to make your orders out of what we call 'S-models' aswell. They are produced for the Van Luxemburgian Southern provinces, which usually experience high temperatures aswell. They include high capacity cooling systems for the engine aswell; we don't want those cars overheating during police actions, you see.'

As he finished noting the order, he continued.

'I can't give you all the remaining SFS'es, since, like I told you, Monteluci and VLT are very hesitant to sell large amounts of limited edition vehicles to one owner. We can provide limited amounts of vehicles, say 10, or equip Biturbo's with the SFS engine.'

When General Hardcastle asked about the hydrogen and fuel-cell vehicles, Mayer needed to think for a moment. He then responded, also with a lowered voice, in which traces of guilt could be found.

'I'm sorry, but I can't comment on that. Van Luxemburgians usually see alternative fuels as a sort of idiocy, since they believe that the whole global warming thing is, like the Germans say, Quatsch, Nonsense. But I can't comment on the theme right now.'

VLT exhibit

We can try to do the same with your government as we do with ours, and convert Biturbo's into SFS'es, technically. You won't get the changes to the interior and exterior that make it special, only the engine and chassis.'

"No I don't think that would work These would have been for our fledgling diplomatic division. We don't want them hauled around in limmos. We'd suggested Hummers, but that got shot down after half a second consideration, and Strykers just wouldn't be appreciated on peaceful city streets. I can understand their reluctance to sell to high risk groups though. I'll see what the Operating Council says. Could you give us 20 FSF's? For the Ambassadors, as their personal vehicles..


'You are aware that the 3.2 MD are Diesel engines, right?

The General nodded to let Mayers know that he'd noted that. "We have lots of top quality deisel, run all our armor on it, save for some of our MBU's. And making them the S model to take our temperatures into consideration is something I hadn't thought of, so thank you greatly for that."

He looked over the proposed figures and nodded. "Can you up the order on the 3.2s to three thousand units?"

And when Mayers responded to his question about fuel cell technology the General just smiled and replied " It might be nonsense, but when it becomes cost effective for the 'man on the street' everything else will go the way of the dodo."

"My wiles?" Willow spluttered as Lance turned away. "Okay, for that you're paying." She headed back to the Kelly Tuning, ForeRunner Automotive exhibit calling for Jonni Lea as she did so.

It was the 1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am convertible, top down,- that had been modded within an inch of it's long life, primarily in the replacing the engine from a 400 to a 455 block *- that Willow swung out of when she had arrived at the impromptu starting line to await Lance's pleasure.

Giving the woman another sly grin, Lance watched as she stalked off, only to get behind the wheel of the convertible. He grinned again as he looked at her car, before turning away and opening the driver's door of his own '79 Trans Am**. His car, also a quite unique car in itself was a finely tuned machine, and as he turned the key, it rumbled to life, answered with the closing of the door. Nodding to the boys, Lance rolled out and halted next to her, a grin he was unable to hide, all over his face as he looked at her.

"Nice ride."

His car, however, he liked quite well. It was the dream car of many, and the possession of far fewer. An authentic Ban III Burt Reynolds edition that would have made any muscle car enthusiast drool simply by its fame alone.

Turning his attention to the other side, he looked at the Imitoran's car, a Cobra. "Interesting choice." he muttered to himself as he turned his attention forward and tightened his grip on the wheel slightly more.

They now only awaited the signal.

**: It's a sweet car. See Imitora for details. I know jack shit, except it's pretty. And fast.

Oh, and I know how to change the oil. ;)

TMZIA, outside the west end of the concourse

While Lance, Willow and Doc were lining up, Robert - the younger, if by but a minute of the twins - ran out to the flaggers position and raised his arms. He then caught the eyes of each drivers, as he had been taught, making sure that they saw him- were aware of him and paying attention. He waited three heartbeats longer then dropped his arms in a crisp maneuver, spinning in place to watch, after all three had passed him. However once they were out of sight he prudently left the makeshift track, not wanting to become roadkill.

The second Robert's arms dropped Willow had done what she believed to be a most acceptable launch, though it was one of her weaker skills, but the TA responded beautifully. She was first away and leaving the other two behind, as she ran up though the gears, shifting smoothly and closing on one thirty easily. The concourse passed in a blur and the nearly five mile distant hangers were growing larger with every revolution of the wheels. The all but unused concrete was perfect for racing. Then something dark was along side her, no two somethings, and she pressed the go fast pedal down even more, but one was pulling away - though it was't the other Trans Am.

VLT Exhibit

'Yes, I think 20 would be possible. I'll register them on the individual names of the ambassadors, so it will cause less problems. Since I already took the diesel engines into consideration, that would be $39,500 for the no lightbar cars and 41,500 for the ones with a lightbar, due to the larger order. '

After he had noted down the order and finished writing down the details, he turned back to General Hardcastle.

'Well, concerning hydrogen, let's just say that a Van Luxemburgian would find some of our research nonsense.' Mayer said, hoping his fairly cryptical answer would be understood by the General in front of him.

'Can I be of service to you in any other way?' Mayer asked politely, after he had waited for a moment.

VLT Exhibit

"Those prices seem quite equitable." He agreed and handed over the purchase order nhumber and contract "Our accountants and bankers will get with your accountants and bankers in the morning."

'Well, concerning hydrogen, let's just say that a Van Luxemburgian would find some of our research nonsense. 'Can I be of service to you in any other way?' '

The general had given a small polite smile at the first then waited a heart beat before answering the second.

"Well the dodo didn't know it was on the way out either I guess. Lets just say that we have what will replace... Mister Mayer, after the expo closes for the night would you care to go for a ride? I think I have something you and VLT might be interested in." The general said cagily.

TMZIA, outside the west end of the concourse

While Lance, Willow and Doc were lining up, Robert - the younger, if by but a minute of the twins - ran out to the flaggers position and raised his arms. He then caught the eyes of each drivers, as he had been taught, making sure that they saw him- were aware of him and paying attention. He waited three heartbeats longer then dropped his arms in a crisp maneuver, spinning in place to watch, after all three had passed him. However once they were out of sight he prudently left the makeshift track, not wanting to become roadkill.

The second Robert's arms dropped Willow had done what she believed to be a most acceptable launch, though it was one of her weaker skills, but the TA responded beautifully. She was first away and leaving the other two behind, as she ran up though the gears, shifting smoothly and closing on one thirty easily. The concourse passed in a blur and the nearly five mile distant hangers were growing larger with every revolution of the wheels. The all but unused concrete was perfect for racing. Then something dark was along side her, no two somethings, and she pressed the go fast pedal down even more, but one was pulling away - though it wasn't the other Trans Am.

Willow had broken ahead at the flag, but Lance didn't worry. Shifting into gears as the speedometer rose swiftly, he held the car steady, focusing on the ground around the car and ahead. He was aware of where the others were, but not devoting his full attention to them. Rather, he seemed to be holding back, at least to the only other two who knew what was under that hood.

Coming up next to her car, Lance looked over at Willow with a twisted smile plastered on his face. She was determined, her knuckles white as they held tightly to the wheel. He glanced past her car to the other side, where the Cobra was pulling ahead of them. Typical of Imitorans, driving cars that people could only admire, others to drool, and yet others to still find it hard to believe that such cars went as fast as they do.

Looking ahead, he saw that the steel barrel at the far side, the only indicator of the halfway mark and also the turnaround point; was drawing to within another half mile. He was on the inner most side, and his car would be challenged to handle the sharp turn as efficiently as possible. The Cobra wasn't too far ahead, and now Lance focused his attention on chasing that car down.

Shoving the pedal as far as it would go, the Trans Am roared and steadily, quickly drew ahead of Willow. Seconds before the barrel was passed, his hand dropped to the emergency brake and pulled it up, his other hand spinning the wheel as needed to complete a drifting turn. A few seconds later, the brake was released and the pedal mashed yet again, hurtling him forward with the finish line in the distance, and somewhat closer to the Cobra.

The race course had been changed slightly. They had been informed at the last second that the area behind the hangers was a crowded mess of the huge double decker car carriers, many barely half unloaded and just off loaded cars being directed every which way. A barrell had been rolled out for the trio to use as their half way mark. The Cobra was already around it and Lance but a second or two ahead of her, when Willow took the sharp turn with a Scandinavian flick.

The half frozen moment when a driver's gaze whips over the surroundings, the zen state of total focus slipping away... Eyes catching a fractional glimps of a form, a posture, maybe a face smeared by speed and the attention on other details but the mind takes the lightspeed mirco second to ping in recognition, and another to go "Naww, no way" before returning focus leaves only the here and now, not the past not the future.

The Black TA's rear ever closer, then side panels and front wheel, as the older red one charges foreward in response to the driver's commands.

VLT Exhibit

'I believe that wouldn't be a problem, General Hardcastle. Is there anything I should take, or, maybe, shouldn't take? Do I need to arrange a car for myself, for example?' Mayer spoke, finally putting away his order board.

He caressed the surface of his car keys while talking to the General, even though he knew he wouldn't use his own car, since it was parked at the VLT offices in Van Luxemburg; His car would be parked somewhere on the large underground parking beneath the majestic headquarters of one of the largest automobile manufacturers in the world. Even though he officially represented VLT, he also drove a Monteluci. A thing that shocked him, and the sales department, was that Monteluci's sales had gigantically improved since the VLT takeover, and now it ate an ever increasing share of sales from VLT's own model line. It had been the moment he had also changed to Monteluci. His first car, a black Monteluci Duca 2.0 MD 200, had already been traded in for a new car. While it was also black, that was mostly caused by the black tape placed on the car, which was used for daily driveability tests by Monteluci; Mayer was the first person to drive the second Monteluci model, above the Duca. Mayer really wanted he could get his car over here, but he would have to do with a VLT again this time: an L7 was parked somewhere on the TMZIA, and since Mayer hadn't seen it yet, he would have to embark on a search for the car on the many parking lots: it could be a long afternoon for him....

VLT Exhibit

'I believe that wouldn't be a problem, General Hardcastle. Is there anything I should take, or, maybe, shouldn't take? Do I need to arrange a car for myself, for example?'

"No, no need for you to take a car. I'll have one of my aides, Lieutenant White Bear pick you up at your hotel suite, at say eleven?"

This night, the last night before the Grand Opening, they were shooing out all the exhibitors at nine. The suites that VLT had were at the Tres D' Or, less than ten minutes away by dedicated monorail.

"All you need is an open mind. However you must excuse me, I have a meeting shortly" General Hardcastle double checked the chronograph he wore and excused him self, striding pruposefully away.

The red car behind Lance was inching closer, indicating to him that Willow wasn't giving up that easily. Grinning, he complimented her on this quietly, moving his car now to block her forward moment. Each time she moved, he countered with expertise and precision. He could swear he could see the frustration in her face as they sped along.

He patted the dash and whispered something quietly to the car. The black Trans Am surged ahead suddenly, it's more powerful block running full steam and perfectly as it did so.

Doc eased the car off the line. If it had been a quarter or full mile race, and he had the MTs on the rears, he would have reved the piss out of the Cobra, feathered the clutch, and fired off the line with the ferocity of a pouncing tiger, and the subtlety of a ragin bull.

However, he was doing neither, so he allowed the two older cars out first, let them stretch their legs, and he'd show them up when he was good and ready. And that didn't take long.

Slipping into third gear, Doc punched the throttle, and the Cobra roared forward, striking in the manner of its namesake. The twin screw wailed a banshee, and the Ford rocketed past the two Pontiacs with little effort. Still on throttle, clutch in, shift to fourth, clutch out, and the Cobra contiued its raging pull. He had an easy hundred ponies over the Bandit, and who knows how many over the older drop top. The turn barrel came up quickly, and he held an easy lead over the second place Bandit, at least a full six car lenghts back.

He didn't waste his time trying to show off, flick the rear end, or nose the barrell. He would later have to inform Willow that her Scandinavian Flick, which worked damned well on dirt, was, like most drifting, useless on concrete. While a well built Scooby, Evo, or other rally car could find great use in kicking the tail out, on the hard ground of the impromptu track, it scrubbed off far to much speed to be usefull, and destroyed the turn dynamics.

Doc, instead, had taken the turn like it was a track turn. He imagined an outside barrier, and quickly felt out the apex. A downshift to third, breaks on, the Brembos pulling the car back to managable twisty speed, and naught but the tiniest whisp of smoke off the inside rear, and the audible stress of the fronts holding grip, pulling the nose of the Snake around.

Back on throttle. Clutch, shift, more power. As the Bandit fell back to a solid five lengths, Doc knew he had one. But he wasn't going to coast in. No. The one thing that he, Ryan, Rays, and Tim were here to show was simple: When it comes to racing, you don't play games with Imitorans.

He stayed hard on the go peddle, roaring towards the rounding turn that would bring him back along the main straight towards the finish line. At no point did he even contemplate looking back.

OOC: Sorry for my absence is there anyway I can rejoin perhaps have a summary of whats going on so my characters can start doing stuff?

Shit happens, and it happens far more often than people can appreciate it happening...

The long haul 474 had been circuling for nearly an hour, and had plenty of fuel to circle some more, in its assigned pattern and altitude Then the twoer at HeadQuarters Military Airfield advised the weary flight crew that they could break patern and head for a landing on runway 27.They acknowledged and turned out of the racetrack pattern they had been following. Less than a minute later they declared an inflight emergency. Unforseen circumstances that occured rather more often that airlines liked to admit had chosen that moment to occur. It had just lost one of its engines. Literally.

The RollsRoyce engine- can we speak of irony?-was lost some where over the as yet unopened TMZInternational Airport. The jet engine, a turbofan engine, weighting in at some where around fourteen thousand pounds - some seven tons and had been moving at the same rate of speed the plane had been - naturally - and that was about three hundred miles per hour.

The only warning that any one on the ground had was a strange whistling that could barely beheard over the roar of the earth bound racers, and a silvery streak of light.

The engine impacted the 1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am convertible's hood and front passenger wheel well at a highly oblique angle, crushing the venerable- and valuable - car's frame and body down to the concrete, then momentum threw the metal 'bomb' back into the air. Throwing the car which had been rolling at over one hundred and forty five miles per hour into the air as well.

Willow had no chance to react, indeed she had had no idea of what had happened at all as she found the car airborne and rotating along its long axis, an air borne roll over. Involuntarily she had screamed at the first out of the blue impact that had jerked the wheel out of her hands, spraining both wrists badly but that would be the least of her injuries. The five point harness kept her from being ejected as the car completed three full corkscrews before coming to rest on flattened tires, it's engine left behind on one of the rolls, the mounts having been too damanged by the initial impact to hold it inplace.. She was unconscious when it did.

The jet engine disentigrated in mid air as it bounced after impacting the TA, this still spinning fan blades breaking off their core mountings, shredding the casing and flashing out like sushi makers from hell. The crowd stunned by what it was witnessing had no chance to aviod the deadly sleet of blades, shredded casing and other engine parts that exploded outwards.

By the time the engine had impacted the rear Trans Am, Doc had already put a good four more lengths on the Bandit. Willow had been so far back, the older Trans Am had become not much more than an after thought. As he tugged the wheel over, the nose diving into the next turn, he saw little more than a rolling car, and simply concluded that she had lost control and rolled. Something fairly common in racing, but even if he had known that a Rolls Royce turbo fan had fallen on the car, there was still the feeling that he most likely wouldn't have stoped.

While Doc pushed on towards the finish line, the roaring noise associated with a giant engine falling out of the sky and dropping onto a car snapped Hoot away from an idle conversation. He jogged over to a waiting emergency vehicle, talked his way on, and rode over to the crash sight.
___

Ryan made his way out through the living room of the massive hotel room. Charli still napped, or was at least at the end of one, and he tugged the cell phone out of a pair of jeans tossed over a chair. He called Doc first, but there wasn't an answer.

Rays answered on the second phone call,and simply told Ryan that he and Charli might want to make thier way down to the airport. Something big had happened, and if nothing else, it would make for cool pictures on wrecked exotics.

Ryan made his way back into the bed room, and slipped into the large bed next to Charli.

Charli had been half awake before Ryan had returned and cuddled up to her. Now she stretched, deliberately letting the sheets fall away and looked at Ryan with flirtatious eyes. "Hmmm One sexy man." She pulled him close and nipped gently at one velvet skinned ear lobe "Ready for the second course?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at the concourse, people had heard the distant thunder but had not known what to make of it, until...

"Jonni Lea! A bombs gone off in Willows car!" Rowan yelled to her cousin as she ran for her car. She couldn't understand how a bomb had gotten there, but that what Wyatt, one of the Pettimore Outlaws, had called it. Jonni Lee and the others also scrambled for their cars.

Some of the Outlaws were trying to fight their way through the crowd to get to Willow, others were steppiung in to try and contain the hysterics that were spreading. Many were injured some badly and there were some bodies that weren't moving.

The Trans Am was a twisted mess, the engine lieing a distance away unrecognisible as the marvel of engineering that it had been. The passenger side of the car from the headlights back though the front seat was simply gone. The steering wheel had been shoved against Willow's chest breaking ribs though it was not a true flailed chest injury. Her left arm was broken above the elbow once and below it twice. Her left ankle was broken. A jagged shard of metal had speared completely through her left thigh and was pinning her to the seat. A bad scalp wound bled profusely as did slashed to her right arm and the right side of her face where flying shards of glass and metal had sliced her in passing.

the smell of gasoline from the ruptured gas tank was over powering.

VLT Exhibit

The General had gotten scarecely twenty feet when his cellphone rang. A minute later he was racing back towartds the VLT exhibit "Mister Mayers! I have need of your emergency personell. Apparenly there has been an explosion out at the hangers and we have a large number of injured. Only part of our emergency workers are here today, so we are short handed." He asked pleadingly as he flipped open his cell phone as it began to ring again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Out at the Hangers

Fortunately there had been no children at the Exposition this day, since it was not officially open Though in twenty four hours there would be.

Many were in panick thinking that a bomb had gone off or that the racing vehicles had exploded. These were busy stampeeding away, afraid that another explosion might come. There were many injured, with some lieing unconscious on the concrete. Three were gruesomely dead.

Others, in truly selfless fashion, ran towards those injured, but the emergency personell that would be there tomorrow weren't there today, not in force and there were many that needed more than just first aid skills. But those that were there did what they could.

The ambulance that Hoot had talked his way on to dodged past the crowd of injured on lookers and sped over to the remains of the one powerful vehicle. Reaching it about the time those from the Pettimore hanger did. They set to work trying to extricate the still unconscious injured woman.

The first thing they did was make sure that a back board was carefully eased behind her, so that her spine would be protected.

3 or 4 members of the Verona racing team ran out of the Verona hanger over to the wreckage of the car, bringing along the appropriate fire extinguishers for fuel-based fires. They were there as the ambulance started their work there was nothing for them to do other than deal with any fires that came about.

The wreck looked like nothing they had ever seen before. "What happened? we were in our hanger and then *bang*, the explosion" queried the members. of the Verona team.

Meanwhile in the exhibition, the BazaBurger stand was receiving some customage, not much but what did they expect it hadn't officially opened yet.

Meanwhile Frederick was watching the video at the Tanaaran plot, "Don't sell yourself too short, from what I'm seeing your a great driver."

Jason was meanwhile just hanging around at his plot, not really much to do, so he decided now that all his work was done he'd go down to the first level and have a wonder around down there. Leaving one the attendents in charge of the plot he headed down and just started to wonder aroundthe first level getting an overall impression of what was going on down there.

'I'll call them immediately, General. They can follow common Van Luxemburgian procedures for what we call Priority 1 driving? Lights, horns, the whole set?'

Meanwhile, Mayer had already flipped open his pager, and began to enter the details of the emergency, before sending it to all the emergency personnel on the VLT Exhibit.

15:44:33 22-09-2007 20 ALL PRIO 1 HANGARS TMZIA EXT. FIRE (INC:09) WOUNDED: YES CARS: YES rumoured explosion

As soon as the call went out, the three emergency vehicles exhibited on the VLT stand also received the location of the fire, and automatically preloaded the details into their system. Even though the firetruck, A 2007 Mercedes-Benz Atego of the Sint Annabeek Professional Fire Brigade (http://img65.imageshack.us/img65/4371/dsc1438qb3.jpg), wasn't equipped for extinguishing airport fire, it was used to put out more common fires taking place in Sint Annabeek, which also meant extinguishing vehicle fires.

The firetruck was escorted by the two other exhibited vehicles, a 2005 Mercedes-Benz E270 CDI Visser Type 4 Ambulance (http://img408.imageshack.us/img408/5915/09136forumdl6.jpg) and a 2007 Monteluci Duca of the Van Luxemburgian Autobahnpolizei (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12497760&postcount=13). The three vehicles slowly steered through the exhibition spaces, exiting the large concourse the way they had entered it. As soon as they left the building, all vehicles used all the power available to gain speed. a cacophony of sounds erupted from the sirens being engaged. Two-tones, three-tones and air horns all blared over the terrain, the three vehicles catapultinh forwards, the two lighter vehicles leaving the firetruck behind.

Inside the firetruck, it's occupants were going through the planning once again. Since the crew was trained to do their planning in Dutch or Lëtzebuergesch, this was no exception.

'Zodra we aankomen, wil ik er onmiddelijk schuimblussers op, en daarna zo snel mogelijk twee HD stralen actief en nog een LD straal achter de hand om alles vol te hozen, mocht het nodig zijn. Realiseer wel dat we misschien een probleem hebben met onze slangen en de watervoorziening hier. Misschien passen ze niet, dus reken erop dat we ze moeten aansluiten op de watertank van de wagen. Omdat het een auto is, wil ik dat we ook nog pneumatisch gereedschap klaarhouden om zo snel mogelijk die hele auto open te knippen en gewonden af te voeren. Okay?'*

(* As soon as we arrive, I immediately want foam extinguishers on it, and then two high-pressure hoses active as quicky as possible, with a Low-pressure hose as backup to completely fill everything with water, if required. Dop realise taht it is possible that we might have a problem with our hoses and the water supply here. It could be that they don't fit, so count on connecting them to the watertank of the truck. Because it's a car, I want to have pneumatic tools aswell to quickly cut the car open and treat the wounded. Okay?')

The firemen nodded, while they clothed themselves in the fire- and heatresistant suits they had been supplied with. Some of the 12-man crew equipped themselves with compressed air systems, to ensure they could get up close to a possible fire. Since they were unfamiliar with the circumstances at the scene, they supposed the worst case scenario, and prepared for a heavy vehicle fire with explosion danger.

'There it is. I see no fire, Out.' The police vehicle rapidly communicated over the joint channel. The firetruck now also came closer, it's heavy air horns spreading their sound everywhere. Quickly flashing blue lights alarmed possible onlookers to move out of the way for the priority vehicle. Steering through parts of the crowd, the firemen already braced themselves for the action that could come. The ones seated on the outer positions of the firetruck already held on to the doors, so they could throw them open as soon as the vehicle would grind to a halt.

On the scene, the Monteluci Duca and Mercedes-Benz E-class had already arrived, but could do little more than wait. While the ambulance personnel treated some onlookers, the police officers attempted to move the crowd back to a safe distance. Since there were only two of them, they only succeeded partly, but kept trying hard to hold the crowd back.

Meanwhile, the firetruck had also arrived. Firemen jumped out of the vehicle, opening the hatches that had been installed on the sides of the vehicle and pulling out the required equipment. The commander of the firetruck, known as Jorissen by the nametag on his clothing, quickly disbanded the previous plan and began ordering to follow another prodecure.

'No fire yet, lads, I need one HD and one foam extinguisher for emergency situations, We need to fire up the pump to get all fuel out of the car, before we cut the car open. As far as I can see, the driver is heavily wounded, so we will need to be careful with removing her. We do not know if she has a broken neck or back. Therefore, we will cut open the remains of the car, and get her out to be treated by a doctor. Let the ambulance personnel call for a helicopter. She might not survive the hospital ride in a normal ambulance, so we will need an air ambulance. Okay, Move it!'

The firemen all knew their role, and went to work immediately. It was already clear that the Storz connection would not fit on the local fire hydrants, meaning they would have to use the water tank to activate their high-pressure hoses. Meanwhile, pneumatic equipment was readied to cut the car open, and the pump of the firetruck slowly began emptying the fuel tank of the Trans Am.

As Jorissen overlooked the scene, he saw multiple men and women standing rather close to the wreckage of the Trans Am. He figured they would be friends of family, and he decided to ask them if they knew about the car and the woman driving it.

'I suppose you are friends, family? Do you know anything about the construction of the car and the medical background of the driver? The vehicle is modified, so I can't use my computer systems to define where the dangerous areas are. Oh, I'm sorry, I might introduce myself first. Commander Michel Jorissen, commander of Firetruck 81-131, Fire Brigade of Sint Annabeek, Van Luxemburg. My crew are preparing equipment to cut off the roof of the Trans Am, so we can safely get her out of the car.' He spoke, in a calm and professional manner.

Meanwhile, the medical crew of Ambulance 81-865 was trying to contact their colleagues in TMZ to call for an Air Ambulance, in order to transport Willows to a hospital safely.

(OOC: Pictures found on www.hulpverleningsforum.nl Credit to them for the great shots. I did my best to develop a realistic approach to the accident from a Van Luxemburgian point of view, though there might be some mistakes in it.)

Hoot stood back from the wreckage, letting the paramedics do thier thing. Looking on at the wreck, he sighed, shaking his head.

"Whoever built that car is an idiot," he mumbled, watching the medical staff go to work. His foree was not much in the way of medical work, so he let the experts do their thing. He didn't get a chance to look at the injured woman that had been driving the Trans Am, though had he, his concern would have been more than for just another driver.
__

Ryan kissed Charli back. "Hmmm, would love to. But I just got a call from Rays. Something happened at the airport."

Ryan stood up from the bed, and stretched out. He hadn't unpacked, and one could easily doubt that he would at all. He wasn't really the type to truely settle in to any hotel, but more or less just live out his suitcase or duffle. First came out a pair of cargo pants, then an off setting dark green tshirt. It was one of the Psychosis Motorsport's shirts, with the logo on the front, and a rare back with nothing on it. He had forgone boxers, but that was little business of anyone outside the room.

"What car do you wanna take?"

Wreck Site

"Willow! Oh Gods Willow! Oh shit who coulda put a bomb in the car?" Wyatt bolted up but was held back by the Van Luxemburgian police for a second before he could push his way past.

'I suppose you are friends, family? Do you know anything about the construction of the car and the medical background of the driver? The vehicle is modified, so I can't use my computer systems to define where the dangerous areas are. Oh, I'm sorry, I might introduce myself first. Commander Michel Jorissen, commander of Firetruck 81-131, Fire Brigade of Sint Annabeek, Van Luxemburg. My crew are preparing equipment to cut off the roof of the Trans Am, so we can safely get her out of the car.' He spoke, in a calm and professional manner.

"I work with her. Her names Willow Hickock, she's a pilot. Her sisters coming." Wyatt said sharply as he tried to look past the Commander to see more of what they were doing to Willow. Then he saw Hoot.

"Hoot! Hoot Gibson!" He called loudly, seeking to catch the Imitoran's attention. "Thats Willow in there. How is she?" He was frantic for more information but wasn't being allowed closer.

The stench of the gasoline that had poured from the rutpured gas tank was neawrly over powering. Willow moaned as the augumented medical crew began discussing wasy to get her out of the batter convertible safely.

IN the distance and closing rapidly were the sounds of several powerful motors approaching - fast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gibson Hotel

"I'd like to take mine" Charli made a sad face then grinned at Ryan as she slid from the bed and opened her suitcase. Clean wide legged jeans, the new tee shirt and a light jacket just in case the night turned cool. And what was under then was also no ones business but hers and Ryans.

"Ready to go if you are" She checked her look in the mirror and smiled happily. She looked just perfect in the teeshirt. She grabbed her purse and keys.

'I see. Do you have any objections if we cut the entire car open to remove Miss Hickock from her car? It will mean that the car will become unrecoverable, but I suppose it already was. We will cut off the windshield, any further objects that can stop us from reaching her, and remove the complete front part of the car to expose her feet. We will then remove her via the back of the car and towards medical help. I suspect that the fuel is of little danger anymore, my people will start cleaning the tarmac with high-pressure hoses in a minute, so that risk will be gradually removed aswell. I'm sorry we can't let you near the car, but it is all safety precautions, you see.'

Meanwhile, one fireman had indeed started cleaning the tarmac from the petrol that leaked from the Trans Am, moving the high-pressure hose over the ground in a clear pattern. Water shot out and hit the ground at a high speed, pushing the petrol forwards. Since there wasn't a huge amount of petrol involved, the fireman knew he only had to get it into a drain or directly into the sewer.If it would have been a larger amount, they would have usually calle dupon the services of semi-civilian eco-salvage companies, but it was all a bit unusual, since they were doing their job in a foreign country.

Near the car, several other firemen were already hauling around with pneumatic equipment, and connecting it to the hydraulic pump of their firetruck. Using the heavy scissors to cut away the doors and windshield, of which glass remains had already been removed, a fireman removed the first objects on the road to free Willow. Moving on, he removed other obstacles, before cutting out the entire hood, opening up space near Willow's feet. This allowed another fireman, who had took seat behind Willow in the car, to remove the headrest and flip the seat down carefully, so Hickock ended up almost horizontal, supported by the back board. Medical personnel supported them, by sedating Hickock's thigh and removing the metal that pinned her to the seat. She wa sthen slowly lifted out of the car, and put down near the Ambulance.

'Triage T2, multiple fractures and possible internal bleedings. We urgently need an air ambulance here, or we will at least need a police escort. In extreme cases we can get our Autobahnpolizei to do it, but our first priority is to see where exactly she needs treatment. The fractures are no problem, but we're worried about the wound done to her head. She's probably lost a lot of blood already, so we need to get her to a hospital as quickly as possible.' The ambulance driver reported to the Jorissen, the firetruck commander, and one of the police officers, while they leaned over the hood of the Monteluci. In front of them was a laptop, which showed a brief report of the situation.

'The car is a total loss, but you never know if they want it back. We need to warn a recovery vehicle to remove the vehicle remains from the scene. But we do not need to make hasty decisions, since this is TMZ territory and we aren't familiar with how things work here. Everything is cleaned up, although the car needs to be removed to complete the cleanup. We should now focus on getting the driver in a condition which makes it possible for her to be transported to hospital.'

Wreck site

Two TMZ laisons trotted up, both of them speaking into their radios two multiple command structures. The nearest, Army Corporal Zefrain Adelbrush reported to the man from Van Luxenberg, who had taken command of the scene about the wrecked Trans Am. "Commander Jorissen, I am Corporal Adelbrush, and I've been detailed to advise and assist you. We have three air ambulances coming. We have several seriously wounded. It does not appear to have been a bomb, but perhaps a missile."

He was cut off by the other laison, and TMZ Air Force Sergeant." "Negative on that Zef" She said "I just got word from the Airfield. Mobile Air, one of the transport airlines, just landed after losing an engine. Thats were the odd injuries have come from. The turbo fan blades, they scythed through the crowd like a reapers's blade." She looked pale and shaken, with several small cuts adorning her face.

The few TMZ EMTS not tending the other wounded -they had been very glad to see the Van Luxemburgian reinforcements- worked alsongside them to help get the driver out. When the the driver had been prepped for extraction, they had fitted a tourniquet about the thigh above the wound pulling it tight. Once she was extricated they helped get her ant the gback board as one unit on to a gurney.

They agreed that the woman had lost a lot of blood, and brought out TMZ's newly developed artificial blood, developed for battle field application. "We'll be glad to let you guys have a supply the senior TMZ EMT offered as he prepped the transfusion set up. "Just add sterile water, these enzymes - Shake don't stir" He suited actions to words for perhaps a minute, then while one of the others started an IV in Willows right forearm, attached the bag to the stretchers extendable IV stand. Once the IV set point was in place he attacked the IV line to it and taped it down securely. "Thats the beauty of this artificial blood. IT matches with any type." He added, proud of his nations medical advancements.


Verona Racing Team, near wreck.

What happened? we were in our hanger and then *bang*, the explosion"

The Verona racing team's questions fell on the ears of their laison who had been delayed in accompanying them by his reporting into his superiors. "Thats what seven tons of falling airplane enigne does to a car. One of the cargo planes has reported loosing an engine." He looked very young and shaken. "Thanks for your quick thinking and heading over here with those extinguishers, but we'd better clear the area, they've got multiple Life Flight helicopters coming in. We've got about a dozen wounded badly enough to need them, besides the driver of that wreck" His eyes took it all in and just got even wider.

TMZIA Concourse
The thunderous boom created by the impact of the falling engine was but a distant dull crump that most ignored, thinking that it was just thunder. But many knew differntly and numerous security protocols activated, as the origins of the destruction could have been a bomb or a missile attack. Though they went about activating the measures most discretely. Every one attempting to leave or enter would find such efforts a bit more time consuming as all checkpoints stepped up security - already high - another notch. And more explosive sniffing dogs were being dispatched to the Exposition.

First Level OF the Concourse

Jason would notice that most of exhibits located on the west end empty, their personell gathered in clusters around the main double doors out on to the tarmac, seemingly uncaring if displayed items were stolen or tampered with.

However on the east end with its display of Bond cars and the lobby to the Cinema seemed normal, exhibitors putting the final touches on displays, or chatting among themselves...However the fact that something had happened was making itself felt. Some groups sent runners down to the west end to find out what was going on.

"Didn't you hear Some chick from the US got blown up." Said one to another in passing, answering the young womans question. That sent the fashionably dressed twentysomething scurrying back to the TVR -Canada exhibit as fast as her Stuart Weismans could carry her, a look of sheer panick on her pretty face.

Hoot looked on at the crash, hearing, but not seeming to react to the news.

"That was Willow?" he asked as the stretcher was loaded up for transport. He held the Pettimore offshoot back, more or less watching the action unfold. The reminants of the jet engine were mroe apparent know, and he never once had honestly believed it to be an attack.
___

Ready to go if you are.

Ryan had always been one to follow his notions and premonitions over anything else, and now was one of those times. He was holding the Nazgul, the custom 1911 built for him, by Walter Sobchak. He slipped it back into the holster, also a custom piece that had at one point been a Blackhawk Serpa, and tossed it back into the bag he had brought along. While it would be one of the first times an Imitoran would go out unarmed, something nagging at the back of his head told him to leave it.

The money clip/wallet went to his pocket, and he clipped on the watch Charli had purchased for him. He slipped on a pair of surprisingly comfortable driving shoes, and slipped out of the bed room. His pocket shuddered, and he snapped out his cell phone. The text message was from Rays, and just as cryptic as the Japanese man was normally.

Doc 1, field 0, slip up, looks like normal for a night

Ryan shrugged, and pocketed the cell.

"Yeah, I'm ready to roll."
___

Doc had rolled over the finish line, and was light on the gas and clutch, but there was no one there. He shrugged, many probably upset that the new car owned by the younger man with little following had such dominated the rest of the races.

Of course, Rays running up didn't exactly make him feel better about winning. He lowered the window, and gave the ever trendy dressed Rays a quizical look.

"Big accident man, a fucking jet engine fell off a plane and hit a car."

If it hadn't been such a possible tragic outcome, Doc and Rays would have laughed.

"Alright," Dic said, reaching over an unlocking the other side door. "Hop in, lets go see what happened."

Wreck Site

"Yes that's Willow. What in the hell are you doing here? You just up and went bavk to Imitora or where the hell ever and... " Wyatt broke off as Rowan, Jonni Lea, the twins and David rolled up and bailed out of their cars. Rowan being small and compact, ducked under the arms of those who tried to stop her. "I'm her sister, don't you dare keep me from her" She had yeeled as she rushed to the gurney where Willow lay.

Jonni Lea wanted to head over there, she was an EMT after all but she also knew that too many medics could jeapordize the patient. She saw Wyatt and her eyes brows flew up in surprize - Hoot Gibson next to him. She headed his way "Hoot! Didn't ecxpect to see you ever again. Now what the hell happened? Thats not the work of a bomb."

The heavy whumps of choppers flying flat out could not be heard as a trio of the specially equipped medical evac helicopers headed in from the west.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gibson Hotel

"Doc, or Rays?" She asked after Ryan had closed the phone and they headed out of the sprawling penthouse.

Charli lead the way down, almost skipping she was feeling so good. "The X is in fantastic shape. It was just garaged, it was museumed, and it purrs like a kitten. I think it hasw a tiger's roar burried in it though"

She looked at Ryan her eyes alight with love "I'm hoping that you'll turn him - and yes it's definitely a male car, despite it purring."

She unlocked the doors and handed Ryan the keys "Here you drive"

Verona Racing Team - Near Wreck

The team nodded, it was clear that they could do nothing more, the paramedics and the rescue team where there with their "Jaws of Life" to pneumatically cut away the car.

They all knew the horrors of racing incidents too well, just last year a driver lost their life in tragic accident, a minor racing clip turned into a major incident when due to a small unnoticed mechanical defect caused the car too lose control and spin causing a total of 4 cars to crash before the race was able to be stopped.

"You're right, we'd only be in the way here, though I wish there was something that we could do..." said one of the team.

"Okay, guys head back in, we've got final preperations to do." He obviously had a position of authority within the group though what it was could have been anyones guess.

"You're our Liason, I guess? Gregory Jones, Manager of the Verona Racing Team."

One of the members that where there mobile phones rang...

---

First Level Concourse

Jason took everything in, he pulled out his phone, and rang up a friend of his in the Verona Racing Team.

"What happened? Everything seemingly a buzz."

"Well, according to what we've just heard a jet engine fell ontop of the car and crushed it."

"Do you know how rare 1. loosing an engine like that is and 2, the chances that it would have fallen on the car."

"Well, I suppose it would be just as likely to fall anywhere else nearby."

"Okay anyway... What's happening out there."

"The emergency services have it all sorted out, dealing with the injured and cutting the driver out of the car. We came out with the fire-estinguishers but theres nothing that we can do so we're returning soon."

"Okay, thanks. Well keep in contact with me, if you find out anything new."

OOC: So I might be a little behind...

IC:

The thing about accidents, is that they happen within a few seconds and are over before the mind can fully realize what the heck just happened. What could have taken months to build something, takes only seconds to destroy. Such is the paradox of man-made things.

The other thing that people sometimes didn't understand is that when someone is in the "zone" doing whatever it is they are doing, everything that happens in those few seconds, seems to take a lifetime.

In this case, Lance had looked up into the rear view mirror, and watched as the car and as yet unidentified large metal object spun about, at the mercy of, well...nothing really. All taken in as his face registered surprise, then shock as realization set in. The resulting metal fragments sent every which way sent at least one large shard through his rear window, obliterating the rear view mirror and exiting through the windshield. This resulted in his brakes being slammed, and tires squealing as they struggled to grip the tarmac. Breathing heavily, he glanced to a side mirror at the scene behind him, mouth agape. He had seen bad wrecks before, but this, this was something else.

Turning his car about, he drove closer, even as emergency vehicles came out of the woodwork to the rescue. Never mind that it seemed that spectators were completely ignored. Getting out of his car, he moved forward a few steps then halted as he realized that his presence wouldn't do anything to help her, not when the emergency crews were already there.

He ran both hands through his hair, then held his head for a few long seconds.

Making his way to one of the TMZ officials nearest him, he grabbed the person's arm and forced them to look at him. "Where's she being taken?" he demanded, pointing to where Willow was being tended to by the emergency crews.

While this had been a three car race, Lance had only wanted to really race against Willow, and now it was clear that the Imitoran had won. But really, what's a victory if no one's about to celebrate it with you? Not that it mattered anyway. Willow was in critical condition at best, clearly not dead, but definitely not well. Lance watched as the crews did their job, then cleaned up as best as possible. He glanced around to see who else was hurt, seeing that some others had serious injuries as well, but none as terribly serious and numerous as Willow.

Wreck Wite

The three Life Flight Helo's touched down and their med evac crew jumped out post hast to begin confering with those on the scene about who to take first. Each could hold three in a pinch and this was definitely such an event.

Six were placed aboard quickly, and those copters lifted off, making hasty beelines for HeadQuarters Hospital One, the nations largest hospital and the one that specialized in trauma medicine.

However the last one remained on the ground longer while they discusssed the assessments of the laswt five casualties.

The corporal looked up from his incident report notes as Lance grabbed his arm and just about growled as the Tarlachian demanded...

"Where's she being taken?"

Wreck Site

Where's she being taken?"

Before the corporal could answer him, something small and furious hit him and took him off his feet. So unexpected was the assault, neither of the two men had seen it coming, and Lance went down hard on his back. He looked up into a small, heart shaped face who's pale blonde hair framed arresting silver gray eyes. Eyes that right now were absolutely snapping with fury.

"You sorry son of a ... You Do Not Go Anywhere Near My Sister, Ever Again. You're the freaking cause of this! She wouldn't have been out here 'cept for you being an utter asshole!"

Jonni Lea spun away from Wyatt and Hoot, alerted by the sound of Rowan's voice. Rowan was a trained singer and her voice carried even whne she whispered unless she deliberately made the effort to not be heard. And right now the small woman - she stood barely five foot five - was making no effort to be subtle.

"Oh rodents!" Jonni Lea swore "I'd better go save that idiot's life, or Rowan will get herself arrested for assault. Thats the guy who egged Willow into this foolishness. Hey Hoot, isn't Tarlachia a neighbor of Imitora? You might want to let the jerk know what Pettimores are about" She threw over her shoulder as she went to pull her cousin off of Lance.

David held his two sons back. He knew better than to get anywhere near furious women, Pettimore women especially "I shouldn'a taken the cage out" He muttered to himself.

Lance continued to stare up into the face of the woman who had thrown herself onto him, screaming all but bloody murder at him. Glancing off to the right, he saw someone hurrying their way. He returned his attention to her, then suddenly grabbed her by the arms, shoved her up and off him while rising simultaneously. She attempted to fight him off, but he held her firmly, snapping a hand up to catch a flying slap and forcing it down to her side. He spun her about, locking her into place with his arms, one arm now lodged firmly against her throat, but not so much as to cut off her air.When he spoke, it was in a deadly coldness, matching in contrast to her wild accusations. His face was locked in stone.

"Your sister did what she did, because that's what she wanted to do. I didn't force her to do shit! I'm not the one that destroyed her fuckin' car lady!"

With that, he shoved her away, enough to give the two of them some space. His eyes were afire now, his attention now on the other person now within a few feet. He kept his eye on the raving woman, but also now kept his attention on the other one.

"Better keep her back before she gets hurt." he warned, "There's been enough injuries for today-" he glared at the first woman, "so let's leave it at that."

She had to give the Tarlachian that, his keeping his attention on her. Jonni Lea was the more dangerous of the two by far. Rowan got hot quick, but calmed down just as quick, and seldom carried a gun. Jonni Lea on the other hand almost never got angry, always carried a gun and had no qualms about using it.

"Better keep her back before she gets hurt. There's been enough injuries for today so let's leave it at that."

"You are quite right" Jonni Lea snagged Rowan gently who was now weeping and pulled her close "Wyatt" She called over the Outlaw, an ex US Ranger who was far more intellengent that the persona he carrried off might suggest.

When he arrived she issued an quiet but firm order "Make sure that Every One knows this man's face, and those of his group. I want it known that none of them, or their vehicles, are to come to any harm or difficulty during or after the event. Understand? Any negative impacts will not put those involved in good graces. It was Willow's choice to race, and engines falling out of the sky are just bad luck. Some times the mountain gets you."

"Some times it does" Wyatt replied as he studdied Lance's face intently for a moment, memorizing it, before moving purposefully away.

"However" Jonni Lea turned back to the Tarlachian "You might had best not try and visit Willow in the hospital. Most of my people owe their lives to Willow from one time or another and might decided that orders only cover certain situations"

The Pettimore Outlaws were mostly exmilitary and had no problem obeying Jonni Lea's few orders, but they were all natural born rebels and wiley enough to find creative way to circumvent said orders when the occassion warrented it.

"Enough!"

Hoot's voice boomed out over Lance and the fueding Pettimores. He took one look back to see Willow loaded onto an ambulance, and take note of what hospital it belonged to. He would find her later and make sure she was ok.

His voice commanded attention, and took little in the way of time to garner the looks of not only the Pettimores and Lance, but a few onlookers as well. Time as a fireteam leader, and then Recon TRACT with the Imitoran Marine Corp gave someone a bit of a commanding presence, and the voice to match.

First, he shot a look towards a few of the Pettimores. "Throwing him a beating isn't gonna make Willow any better, nor will it undo what has been done. Willow raced on her own accord, and knew the risks involved."

Before a retort could be turned, he looked to Lance. "And you need to calm the fuck down. I don't care if you are one of my best friends, if I ever, ever see you toss around a woman like that ever again, I will have you killed." And he could. More than the political connections of the first speaker, his military connections were even farther reaching. Or, he could always just tell Ryan that he had said something derogatory about Charli, and that would be the end of that.

"All of you need to take a step back and chill. Some bullshit blood fued over an engine falling out of the sky isn't going to do anything for anyone, except piss everybody off. We are all here for the same thing, we love cars. So lets all just back off, clear out, and let the pros do their job at cleaning this mess up."

He stepped back, and saw David shaking his head. "You build that car?"

David nodded. "Yeah, I did a good part of the wrench time."

"It was a nice car. Its a shame it had to bite it like that." He paused for a minute. "I'm assuming you had a cage in it?"

"Yeah. I did at first."

"Why'd you pull it?"

"It wasn't supposed to be raced."

Hoot looked off for a few seconds. He saw two outlines off to the side, Rays and Doc. They were far back, sort of watching with a carefull eye. It wasn't that either of them didn't have the compassion or feel bad, in their own Imitoran way they did. But, like most "car" Imitorans, they also knew that racing had risks. Rarely did the risk of a jet engine falling on your car come into play, but crashing did, often, and they knew, just as Jonni Lea had, that sometimes you eat the road, and sometimes the road eats you.

But the knowing look from Rays told Hoot all he needed. He turned back to David.

"Listen bro," he said, with honesty. David's Eagle, Globe, and Anchor were poking out, and once David had healed from his last tango with Hoot, they had bonded in the way only one Marine could with another, regardless of country. "Ryan and Charli are gonna be rolling this way not to long. And Ryan has this thing about keeping safe when you roll. You best not let him know you pulled the cage from those wheels, else wise he might do something stupid. I wouldn't put it past him."

Hoot turned away from what remained of the wreckage, walking over towards the hangers, where he could grab a ride to the hospital. "He's like his father like that. Thinks with his heart, rarely his head."
___

Ryan snatched the keys out of mid air. "Ya sure? I mean, he's your new toy. Wouldn't want to overstep my bounds," he laughed.

He slid into the driver's seat, locked in the belt, and gunned up the engine. Sliping the heavy duty auto into reverse, he eased out of the space, and made quick work of the parking garage.

"It was Rays, just saying Doc pulled a race out," he smiled. He was overly proud of the Cobra he helped build, and glad it was a nice, well rounded car.

The Buick was easy enough to drive now, and he would make sure to keep it in mind when he went to work on it. He hand't done much in the way of the older performance cars beyond to copious SBCs, so the GNX would be a nice project for him.

Three were worse off than Willow so they were rapidly loaded aboard the life Flight Helo and it sped away towards the same hospital that the other two had. Willow did however rate an ambulance of her own, and one of the Life Flights would meet them in route. It was sixty miles to Hospital One. But this way Rowan could go with her and one of the EMT's called her over. She gave Lance a dirty look and scrambled into the ambulance.

Jonni Lea sighed as she watched them go.

The ambulance wheeled carefully about and was heading off as fast as it could safely go. Given the excellent roads it would be able to run full out, as the main traffic computer and local MP's cleared the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ya sure? I mean, he's your new toy. Wouldn't want to overstep my bounds,"
Charli sat back watching Ryan drive with a proud smile on her face. "You have no bounds and you well know it Ryan Fortier"

Her phone rang at the same time Ryan's did but when she hung up she wasn't smiling "That was Wyatt, one of the Outlaws. Doc may have won the race but my friend Willow got hurt bad. They're going to Life Flight her to the hospital, and there are others dead." She gave him a indecypherable look

"A jet engine fell on her car.. Punch this beast"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He's like his father like that. Thinks with his heart, rarely his head."

Don't worry Hoot, I'll make sure this doesn't boil over. Not going to be any blood feud. David Lee, Robert, Why don't you take my car back to the exhibit and take one of the others to the hospital. Your dad and I will join you in a bit." Jonni Lea shooed her sons off. If it did get stormy again in a bit she didn't want them around, they were still of the opinion that they were imortal.

OOC: Um, I don't suppose there is anything for me to do at the moment?

OOC: my apologies for not getting back on sooner!

Bazalonia Racing Team Hanger

"You're our Liason, I guess? Gregory Jones, Manager of the Verona Racing Team."

"Very Pleased to meet you Mister Jones. And I'm sorry to be so late in getting over here to introduce myself. I'm Corporal Sevyard. Have you seen the accomodations yet here in the hanger's apartments? The chef and house keeping staff have every thing in readiness. And your's and your driver's suites at the Tres D' Or are ready as well." He looked a little older now that his eyes weren't quite so wide and his face more composed.

At least he hoped it did. He'd seen battle injuries but the notion of a jet engine falling off and smacking one was more than a little outside his comfort zone.

He had all the guest packets filled with 'enjoy your stay goodies' and information ready for each of the personell. There would be hosted dinners each night of one formality or another. Passes to movie theaters, and various night spots in Liberty City, sizeable dollar amounts of tokens that could be used at any of the casinos, gift certificates to local spas and boutiques, and keys to a vertiable fleet of compact electric cars so the personell would never feel stranded. The monorail and sub way would both be running twentyfour hours aday for those who did not feel like driving, and there were always taxis, and electic rickshaws. ANd last but not least there were also vouchers from some of Liberty City's best known bordellos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First Floor concourse

Jason had barely put his cell phone away ...

"Kind sir, I couldn't help but overheaing some of that call. It seems as if you might be the only one around here" A tall elegantly dressed woman in her mid thirties sauntered over and waved a slender hand adorned with an incredibly expensive but very tastefull set of rings to indicate the growing onset of hysteria in the various clustered groups of exhibit personell " in the real know. Did I hear something about an airplane engine and a car?" She gave Jason an appreciative once over, then glanced dismissively at the other small clots of people

"Oh my manners, I am Chantal, Baroness Di' Racul. (http://www.atddm.com/dracul.jpg) Please, come have a drink with me, and tell me what you know?" She offered in her purring voice, as she indicated the well stocked bar being provided by
http://www.atddm.com/vms.jpg

OOC: Played with permission from Tanaara

Bazalonia Racing Team Hanger

"That's alright we've been very busy anyway, and no we've been focussing on the car for now." said Gregory dismissing the apology "How are you Boys going?" he asked his team. "Great, nearly done. I've just got to do one more bolt up and we're done." The voice was different, it was feminine...

Out from under the Verona racing car decked out in Bazalonia's national colours, Black, white and Gold, those same colours found on the Bazalonian flag, was Louisa Pendragon, the only female on the team, she however was not the only female in the overall Verona contingent.

"Well, let's go and see our digs shall we? and perhaps get a little bit cleaned up, tonight we're going out on the town." A cheer rose up from rest of the racing team as they looked forward to seeing what was available even if it was a military zone.

"Lead on, if you please Corporal Sevyard."

~~~~

First Floor concourse

"Thank you Baroness, I think I will take you up on the offer. I'm Jason Atkinson. Nice to meet your acquaintance." Despite being a car enthusiast Jason was up on his etiquette especially in regards to the nobility.

Coming up to the Bar, Jason just ordered himself a beer, "All I know is that an airplane engine came loose and fell to the ground and it somehow colided with one of the cars on racing track performing an inpromptu race."

"Make sure that Every One knows this man's face, and those of his group. I want it known that none of them, or their vehicles, are to come to any harm or difficulty during or after the event. Understand? Any negative impacts will not put those involved in good graces. It was Willow's choice to race, and engines falling out of the sky are just bad luck. Some times the mountain gets you."

Lance merely gave Jonni Lea a short and quick nod of appreciation for this, but the following warning made him glower again.

"However" Jonni Lea turned back to the Tarlachian "You might had best not try and visit Willow in the hospital. Most of my people owe their lives to Willow from one time or another and might decided that orders only cover certain situations"

He shook his head in disgust at this. He was concerned for her wellbeing, even though he didn't know Willow all that well, but that in itself was no excuse to not give a damn. He understood clearly the dangers of racing, and Willow obviously did as well. But an engine falling out of the sky? Why it was almost fuckin' Looney Tunes!

"I'll visit if I damn well wish." he retorted, "and none of you will stop me except for Willow herself." His eyes narrowed, his mind clearly knowing he was treading on sensitive ground like a rhino in a china shop. However, he wouldn't be fazed by them. No, he could deal with them.

Hoot's resounding voice suddenly broke the situation's growing tension, but Lance was still on edge. He merely stared down his friend with a cool look as he heard Hoot's warning. "Kill me? Your best friend? For simply defending myself from a-" he shot a none-too-kind look to Rowan and Jonni Lea, "woman who knocked me to the ground, trying to blame me for this act of near-impossibility?" He glared at Hoot, "Fuck you man. I'm not gonna get myself rolled over by some chick for something I didn't do."

With that, he turned, waved an arm in the air and walked off, "I'm outta here."

Entering his car again, he was soon roaring off, accelerating quickly, going nowhere in particular. He needed time to cool down, and driving was how he did it. Particularly at high speeds.

God help anyone who tried to follow.

Tanaaran Automotive Consortium..

Gwenn looked pleased at Fred's compliment on her driving, but grinned "Maybe if I get a few more driving courses under my belt, but right now I'm just a daily driver. The the Astral" She named the model she'd driven in the video and that he'd been looking at "Makes me look better.We have one here for test driving. Would you like to take a drive?" Gwenn asked as she looked out the vaste section of glass and frowned. "Though I could have sworn I heard thunder."

Wreck Site

Jonni Lea just shook her head as Lance stormed off. There'd be a guard on Willow's door as soon as she could get some one there. She needed to meet with her cousin, Johnny Lee, the other head of the various Pettimore enterprizes and see how his section of things were going. She desperately wanted to know how her cousin was, and she would be there as soon as she got everything settled. Luckily she'd brought along enough people to handle both the concourse exhnibit as well as the hanger where more vehicles would be warehouse and displayed. She'd just have to shuffle her personell about.

However before she could leave she needed to deal with the wrechage of a car that had been insured for over half a million dollars. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed from memory. As she was waiting for it to answer she looked up and saw Johnny Lee climbing out of his rental car. He gimped over and hugged her hard then headed over to where David had gone to take a close up look at the wreckage.

TMZIA Main Check In

Ryans excellent handling of the big brute and his concerned repsonse for her obvious upset helped Charli calm down. She had always completely trusted Ryans driving and found it easy to relax while he droive, even at extremely high speeds.

Jonni Lea had listed Charli under the Front Runner group, and she had also been on the Psychosis list. She had no trouble, and Ryan was on the Psychosis list. The current backlog had been cleared and check in for both of them was quickly taken care of. As they were just driving in through the gates, the last of the Life Flight helos was heading off and the ambulance carrying Willow and the other casuality passed them going out. Charli looked at them pale faced and didn't say anything. But her hand crept over and slid into Ryans as they headed to the hangers and the wreck sight.

When they came insight of the wreckage however she couldn't stop a gasp of horror, then she was out of the car and running to Jonni Lea.

Verona / Bazalonia Racing Team Hanger

"Lead on, if you please Corporal Sevyard."


"Certainly Sir" The corporal lead the way from the airplane housing bay section of the hanger, raising his voice so that it carried to all in the group.. The door opened into a hall way that had three spacious offices on one side and two large conference rooms on the other. The doors to the rooms were open and lights were on. "You are welcome to use these offices and conference rooms should you need to." He said as he led the group past. The hall way ended at a large atrium style area - the glass ceiling was more than a hundred and twenty feet above them. The had obviously come in on the second level of the artium gardens, for they could look down over the near railing to the 'ground level' of the artium below. The immense indoor garden had a fish filled mini lake,a river with a bridge crossing it (http://www.gaylordhotels.com/gaylordtexan/press/images/Press_LoneStarAtrium3_large.jpg) that stretched from the expanse of plate glass windows that made up the far wall - here and there were open seating areas with comfortable chairs and some with tables for alfresco dining. The offices and apartments that made up two of the walls for this green space all had baclonies over looking this garden area.

"There are mens and ladies restrooms behind those doors there, a snack bar and lounge there, and those offices and other rooms are closed off." The Corporal gestured to various doors that opened off of the wall they had just entered through.

"The second and third floors are all offices, but the fourth through seventh level are all apartments and there are eight apartments on each level. Each apartment is two bedrooms, each with their own sitting areas, baths and walk in closets. The master bedroom has a queen size bed, and the smaller bedroom has a pair of twin beds. The apartments are fully furnished and the kitchens stocked with non perishable foods in case you all feel like cooking for yourselves. Floor eight holds the dining hall and kitchen, game room, library, a stadium theater room (http://www.gaylordhotels.com/gaylordtexan/press/images/Press_TexanStation001_large.jpg) and a day center but thats closed off. The tenth floor is the penthouse level and there are four two storey, three bedroom penthouses. They have access to individual roof gardens through them."

He started handing out the well stuffed welcome packets that had been set out on a large table.. "You'll find the cars assigned to you down in the underground garage. Ya see since the airlines have to have people on staff twenty four seven, they figured it be easier just to house personell and their families out here, but all the pavemnet needed for hauling planes around on the ground kinda wiped the local greenery, so they brought it indoors. All the hangers have these huge atriums. They're also connected by tunnels - you don't have to go up where planes are moving in and out, you can just drive out of the airport that way or take a slide walk to the concourse and catch the monorail or underground from there."

Asd he was speaking a small group of people had joined them and he now introduced them as the Bazalonia support staff for the nearly nonth lon exosition. They were the chef and dining room steward, the ten person custodial crew, the chief of the buildings security, and his own alternate "For the next twenty plus days we are at your beck and call. Please if there is any thing you need please don't hesitate to ask. Also for those of you staying at the hotel here are your suite's card keys." He handed those to Mr. Jones and the teams drivers.

First Level Concourse

"All I know is that an airplane engine came loose and fell to the ground and it somehow colided with one of the cars on racing track performing an inpromptu race."

"Well that more than most anyone else here knows, so that makes you the man of the moment, and please just call me Chantal" She replied as his beer, and her white wine and campari, arrived promptly as well as a tray of noshes - mini bagels with honey smoked alaskan salmon with farmers cheese, mini quiches, water crackers with sharp stilton cheddar, stuffed mushroom caps and more.

His beer was a Tanaaran brew, Phoenix Fire Reserve, an outstanding double Indian Pale Ale that was the equal to the American micro brewDreadnaught IPA (http://beeradvocate.com/beer/profile/26/1558) that was rated one of the world's best.

"So is Verona going to be going after the super luxury patron? Or do you feel that market is already over burdened?" Chantal asked as her eyes drifted over some of Valahalla's custom offerings set close to the bar area.

http://www.atddm.com/cc12br2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cc12br2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/cc12br3_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cc12br3.jpg)

http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi1.jpg)

http://www.atddm.com/cclexus-small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cclexus.jpg)




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOC:

American Double / Imperial IPA

Description:
Take an India Pale Ale and feed it steroids, ergo the term Double IPA. Although open to the same interpretation as its sister styles, you should expect something robust, malty, alcoholic and with a hop profile that might rip your tongue out. The Imperial usage comes from Russian Imperial stout, a style of strong stout originally brewed in England for the Russian Imperial Court of the late 1700s; though Double IPA is often the preferred name.

You can thank west coast American brewers for this somewhat reactionary style. "Thanks!"

Van Luxemburgian Emergency Personell

The TMZ personell thanked the Van Luxemburgian personell effusively, especially as they had not arrived at the Expo expecting to be actuaklly called upon.

By the time the TMZ ambulances and Life Flight helicopters had arived so had Captain Abagail Hardcastle, and she immediately sought out Commander Michel Jorissen. "Commander Jorissen? I am Captain Abagail hardcastle, in charge of the Exposition, and I must offer you the thanks of all the Militarized Zone for your fast and well trained response to this unusual and totally unexpected incident. Your people are complete professionals and have every right to be proud of themselves." She spoke with heartfelt sincerity as TMZ crews helped the Van Luxemburgian's pack their stuff back up.

"As you know there is a big welcome banquet tonight at the Tres D' Or," The information and passes had been in their welcome packets along with many other after hours events that had been planned for the exhibitors pleasure "and I hope you will allow me to introduce yourself and your crews to every one."

Van Luxemburgian Exhibit, Concourse 2nd level

The General finally closed his cell phone and put it away, he'd been on the phone nonstop since the call had come in about the incident. He turned to Mr Mayer, a relieved smile on his face. 'Thank you sir, your emergency personell really saved the day. They saved several people's lives, and we can not thank you and your people enough. Can I talk to you about ordering some ambulances and fire vehicles as well?"

Ryan walked slowly away from the GNX, over to where he made out Hoot. The older Marine was watching from more of a distance than anything, he'd go to see Willow shortly.

"So what happened?"

Hoot pointed out over towards the sight of what used to be a jet engine. "A damn turbo fan fell on the car. Took it out good."

"Shit man, I didn't know that really happened."

"Occasionally, yeah. Watch out over there, those folks are Pettimores. American organized crime, they can make a nasty big mess of things."

Ryan looked at Hoot, head half cocked to the side. "Fine, whatever. Your CCRT, you can conquer the world, don't listen to me. Anyways, you bring any nice clothes or just those stupid ass tee shirts?"

"Yeah, I brought some good stuff. Why?"

"You and I have a dinner date."

"Sorry Hoot, but your just not my type."

"No, with some General Hardcastle. Wants to have a sit down with you and me, and Sinjin."

Ryan huffed. "So what, you want me to go sit around with you old bastards so you can puff up your chests and tell war stories?"

"Hardly." Hoot handed Ryan the information for where he was staying. "Its important, thats all I know. Just be at my hotel round six. We'll head out after that."

"I'm surprised you REMF types know anything."

He shrugged, and walked off towards Doc and Rays.

They were not to much farther from David then they had been earlier, and still within ear shot. He looked over Doc for a half second, then stood beside him, watching the fire crews at work.

"Christ Doc, when I told you I want you to pound anyone you race into the ground, I didn't mean to really do it," he chuckled. Doc responded in kind.

Rays nodded. "Well, thats the way it works sometimes."

"Did ya at least win?"

"I crossed the line first."

"That a boy."

Ryan took a few more steps forward, now closer than just spitting distance of David.

"You the guy who built that car?"

Charli wrapped Jonni Lea in a big hug, speaking to her quietly, walking her away from every one to give the two - but especially Jonni Lea - some privacy.

"You the guy who built that car?"

David turned about, looking at the stranger in irritation. He'd seen Charli pile out of the passenger side of the GNX, and figured this was the Ryan she talked so much about. But he wasn't happy at stranger, even if he was Charli's guy, poking his nose into something he felt guilty about. He had been busy with paper work and woud have stopped the race if he'd had any inkling which car Willow had decided to use.

So his reply was short, almost angry "Yeah, I put in most of the shop time"

Tanaaran Automotive Consortium..

Gwenn looked pleased at Fred's compliment on her driving, but grinned "Maybe if I get a few more driving courses under my belt, but right now I'm just a daily driver. The the Astral" She named the model she'd driven in the video and that he'd been looking at "Makes me look better.We have one here for test driving. Would you like to take a drive?" Gwenn asked as she looked out the vaste section of glass and frowned. "Though I could have sworn I heard thunder."


A grin emerged on his face, "I thought you'd never ask." though his expression changed slightly when mentioning the thunder, "yeah, I'm not sure either, sounded like it could have been close whatever it was. Well, I'm sure we'll find out if it was anything major soon."
Verona / Bazalonia Racing Team Hanger

"Lead on, if you please Corporal Sevyard."


"Certainly Sir" The corporal lead the way from the airplane housing bay section of the hanger, raising his voice so that it carried to all in the group.. The door opened into a hall way that had three spacious offices on one side and two large conference rooms on the other. The doors to the rooms were open and lights were on. "You are welcome to use these offices and conference rooms should you need to." He said as he led the group past. The hall way ended at a large atrium style area - the glass ceiling was more than a hundred and twenty feet above them. The had obviously come in on the second level of the artium gardens, for they could look down over the near railing to the 'ground level' of the artium below. The immense indoor garden had a fish filled mini lake,a river with a bridge crossing it (http://www.gaylordhotels.com/gaylordtexan/press/images/Press_LoneStarAtrium3_large.jpg) that stretched from the expanse of plate glass windows that made up the far wall - here and there were open seating areas with comfortable chairs and some with tables for alfresco dining. The offices and apartments that made up two of the walls for this green space all had baclonies over looking this garden area.

"There are mens and ladies restrooms behind those doors there, a snack bar and lounge there, and those offices and other rooms are closed off." The Corporal gestured to various doors that opened off of the wall they had just entered through.

"The second and third floors are all offices, but the fourth through seventh level are all apartments and there are eight apartments on each level. Each apartment is two bedrooms, each with their own sitting areas, baths and walk in closets. The master bedroom has a queen size bed, and the smaller bedroom has a pair of twin beds. The apartments are fully furnished and the kitchens stocked with non perishable foods in case you all feel like cooking for yourselves. Floor eight holds the dining hall and kitchen, game room, library, a stadium theater room (http://www.gaylordhotels.com/gaylordtexan/press/images/Press_TexanStation001_large.jpg) and a day center but thats closed off. The tenth floor is the penthouse level and there are four two storey, three bedroom penthouses. They have access to individual roof gardens through them."

He started handing out the well stuffed welcome packets that had been set out on a large table.. "You'll find the cars assigned to you down in the underground garage. Ya see since the airlines have to have people on staff twenty four seven, they figured it be easier just to house personell and their families out here, but all the pavemnet needed for hauling planes around on the ground kinda wiped the local greenery, so they brought it indoors. All the hangers have these huge atriums. They're also connected by tunnels - you don't have to go up where planes are moving in and out, you can just drive out of the airport that way or take a slide walk to the concourse and catch the monorail or underground from there."

Asd he was speaking a small group of people had joined them and he now introduced them as the Bazalonia support staff for the nearly nonth lon exosition. They were the chef and dining room steward, the ten person custodial crew, the chief of the buildings security, and his own alternate "For the next twenty plus days we are at your beck and call. Please if there is any thing you need please don't hesitate to ask. Also for those of you staying at the hotel here are your suite's card keys." He handed those to Mr. Jones and the teams drivers.

"Thank you, Sargeant, Jake, I'll hand over to you do your bit with the lodgings, assigning who goes where. In an hour I want the drivers too meet us, me and Luke, in that conference room back there. Okay, chop, chop."

Turning aside back to the Sargeant "Here's my mobile number, Just in case you need me.


First Level Concourse

"All I know is that an airplane engine came loose and fell to the ground and it somehow colided with one of the cars on racing track performing an inpromptu race."

"Well that more than most anyone else here knows, so that makes you the man of the moment, and please just call me Chantal" She replied as his beer, and her white wine and campari, arrived promptly as well as a tray of noshes - mini bagels with honey smoked alaskan salmon with farmers cheese, mini quiches, water crackers with sharp stilton cheddar, stuffed mushroom caps and more.

His beer was a Tanaaran brew, Phoenix Fire Reserve, an outstanding double Indian Pale Ale that was the equal to the American micro brewDreadnaught IPA (http://beeradvocate.com/beer/profile/26/1558) that was rated one of the world's best.

"So is Verona going to be going after the super luxury patron? Or do you feel that market is already over burdened?" Chantal asked as her eyes drifted over some of Valahalla's custom offerings set close to the bar area.

http://www.atddm.com/cc12br2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cc12br2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/cc12br3_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cc12br3.jpg)

http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccdhi1.jpg)

http://www.atddm.com/cclexus-small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/cclexus.jpg)


"Well, true luxury for me is something different, making things easy, steamlined, highest quality in all aspects, look good and most of all, functional, And I think it's the same for the prospero designers. Imagine sitting inside a luxury car and seeing features that you can almost immediately think of how you are going to use them. I think the Super Luxury Market isn't something that we'd want to get into, partly because as you said it's already fairly saturated and you get into a contest to one up each other and what's the first thing that goes out the window? Generally functionality."

Now that he had explained his position he took a sip of his beer, he liked it. "Mmm... Not quite what I expected from a Taanaran Beer but still, nice." He grabbed a mini-quiche and took a bite, he could of downed it one bite but that would have been well, not nice to look at.

Ryan nodded, and Doc and Rays moved around back behind him, still keeping a slight distance. No matter who it was, no one who built cars liked to be called out on anything, and most who built cars like these had a competative streak fiercer than just about anyone. Ryan was no different, and it would be easy to assume David was the same. They both also knew full well that Ryan was very good at pushing the right buttons to set people off, and in his younger days, had been known to do it just for fun.

Ryan, meanwhile, looked on as the the firefighters tore into the wreckage to move it. Hoot had already left, on his way to the hospital with one of his crew chiefs. Water was being poured on what was left of the racing fuel sprayed out over the runway.

"So, you built it eh? Got a question for ya, why didn't it have a cage?"

David spun around fast on the ball of one foot, so that he was facing Ryan full on.

As he did so the older gentleman with the cane ghosted up behind Rays and Doc from where hed been examining the devestated vehicle. He didn't say any thing or get any too close, but like all the Pettimores there Three was openly armed, taking full advantage of TMZ weapons laws. He, though he hadn't spoken to Hoot or Ryan, recognised both. The pictures in their dossiers were good ones. He always had had good intell. He'd introduce himself later tonight when they met..unless something happened now that forced his hand.

David may not have had Ryan's inborn combat abilities, and gave way about about five years, but he'd been living as a Pettimore since the day he'd met Jonni Lea, and that kept him razor sharp. Not to mention giving him every unorthodox trick in the book, and even more that had never made it to the written word.

He never even thought of going for his gun, and his first move was completely untelegraphed. It didn't even change his breathing pattern - his comment, as he unleashed the blow was unstrained, soft voft voiced, conversational.

"I had a cage on it. The buyer didn't want it so we took it out."

Verona / Bazalonia Racing Team Hanger

Here's my mobile number, Just in case you need me.

Corporal Sevyard took it with a smile. "Thank you Mister Jones and in your5 packet you'll find your passes to the welcom banquet being held tonight at the Tres D' Or."

There were six massive hotels on the island, and they had over two thousand rooms and suites each, and all had a minimum of three hundred thousand square feet of meeting space, plus each had massive five banquet cum reception rooms.

"The parties at each hotel will each ahve a different theme, so we're kinda expecting every one to drift around and find the one that suites them best. Your Expo ID's will get you into all of them." Here was going to be a Thati themed Luau on the beach, a C & W party, a Starlight Ball Room Nostaliga party, a 'Ask a Ninja' party, a Disco themed one, a Techno Rave, a Gothic gathering and many others.

He looked through his digital clip board but couldn't find the information quickly "Mr. Jones are your teams participating in all of the F1 series, or just certain ones?"

There were three Formula One races scheduled. The first one was scheduled for the day after next, the first Sunday of the Expo - all the Formula One races were scheduled on Sundays, except for the last Sunday of the show, the day it closed.

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

Chantal threw back his head and laughted at Jason's comment about the beer. "Tanaara exports very little beer. We're a nation dedicated to microbreweries, there isn't any national beer, no single brewery produces enough and they're proud of that. But it's one of our favorite libations, though Tanaaran wines have always been good, but again our vintners tend to produce on the small scale, being very picky about what they offer." She smiled as she took another sip of her campari and wine.

" I think the Super Luxury Market isn't something that we'd want to get into, partly because as you said it's already fairly saturated and you get into a contest to one up each other and what's the first thing that goes out the window? Generally functionality."

"And excellent way of putting it. I picked up A Dominator recently, a custom built by Psychosis." Chantal indicated an exhibit area across the aisle and north of the Valahalla exhibit. "And it's very functional, save for it has not a drop of trunk space. So I am thinking of getting something else for theose times when I need to transport something. " She took a delicate bite of a stuffed mushroom cap. Once she'd swallowed she sighed "I loaned Viktor my chef, he is just marvelous! Are you planning to attend the banquets tonight, or are you one of the lucky two hundred and fifty enough to have gotten invitations to the hush hush reception and feast up on the tenth level where all those armed guards are keeping people out?"

She was one of the two hundred and fifty, but she had not yet decided whom to take as her date. Chantal wanted it to be some one sure to piss off the Tanaraan monarch, who would also be there.

David was good. He didn't telegraph, but the roll of the shoulder was impossible to hide, unless the Pettimores had developed a new way to swing. David had the advantage of the first swing, that was for sure, but the one time Recon Marine was just not Ryan. In any other stand up, or maybe roll around, fight, David would have a decent advantage. Ryan was younger, faster, stronger, and above all, more expierenced.

Ryan was fast, but not fast enough to simply roll away from the punch. However, he wouldn't. That wasn't the Imitoran style. With a lightning fast, faster than David had been expecting, reflex, Ryan snatched David's arm with his left. Spining on the ball of his foot, he came around with a fierce elbow to the nose. There was force behind it, throwing his hips into the motion to bring extra weight with him.

The connection did more than just phase David, it stunned him. He didn't know the Imitoran beyond more than just a name in passing, or hearing about him from Charli. He knew most were in the military, but that was to be expected, as one could tell by Ryan's age that he was just on the cusp of that cut off point when military service was no longer required. The newer generations of military personel were all volunteer.

David had expected military, but he hadn't expected force. The shock knocked him back a few steps as Ryan released him following the impact. Stars and more floated over David as Ryan stepped away, calmly. A quick glance back to Rays and Doc, and then to David who shook away floaters.

"You shoulda told the buyer to kiss your ass. Every damned builder out there worth more than two shits in toilet knows you put a fucking cage in a fucking car like that. Now you put someone in the hospital, and you fucked up a perfectly good car."

Ryan turned towards Doc and Rays. "You two head over to the hotel, get your names on the signing papers so we can park our own rides."

Ryan was about to move off on his own, over to Charli to let her know he had to go to some sort of dinner meeting with Hoot, when he heard the scuffle of feet. He turned as David scrambled up, charging, head low. Ryan avoided any debilitating attacks, avoind the back or neck or head, and simply side stepped, tripping David.

"Ya know, I'm just gonna kick your ass anytime you stand up. I'm sure we can settle this a better way."

Three watched calmly. He wouldn't interfere unless weapons came out. He simply nodded to Ryan, impressed with the youngers man's speed and prowess.

"Ya know, I'm just gonna kick your ass anytime you stand up. I'm sure we can settle this a better way."
A cold feminine voice spoke up "You might out to put blame where blame lies, and it doesn't lie with my husband I'll have you know" When Ryan looked at her Jonni Lea continued.

"Blame a picky buyer who's never going to drive the car, just stash it in a display, blame me for letting my cousin drive it, blame fate for causing a jet to lose an engine, blame Willow for letting a man get under her skin,"

The eyes locked with Ryans were eyes he had seen before. Oh, not her eyes in particular, but the eyes of some one who killed as easily as breathing, who had killed before and would again, and never lose an instants sleep over those deaths.

Her lips twitched into a small bitter smile. David had never hidden behind her skirt nor would she ever try and make him, but she'd be damned before she let any one try and manipulate him. He adored Willow, as did her sons. And while Charli was like a sister to her, Jonni Lea didn't take shit off of any one ... save David and Three. And Ryan wasn't either of them.

But she could be reasonable. "And Ryan Fortier, take a good long look at that wreckage. Seven tons of metal hit it at over a hundred and fifty miles an hour. A cage might have helped ...a little... but thats a combined impact speed around three hundred miles an hour. It's just damned lucky there wasn't a fire. Some times the mountain gets you."

Ryan stared right back at Jonni, his eyes matching hers. As if looking into a mirror, he could tell she could kill, but his own eyes returned the gaze. Ryan hadn't reached the quiting point yet, the time where you saw the faces of those you had killed, and he wouldn't any time soon. He had made damned good money off it, and would keep it up till someone far more powerful than he deemed it so.

"Your hubby should have the ability to tell some picky buyer that he won't build a car without a cage. Don't matter who its going to. I don't care what any body says, no car leaves my shop without a cage."

Ryan looked back at David. "You should try that out."

He turned and headed off towards where Charli was standing.

Verona / Bazalonia Racing Team Hanger

Here's my mobile number, Just in case you need me.

Corporal Sevyard took it with a smile. "Thank you Mister Jones and in your5 packet you'll find your passes to the welcom banquet being held tonight at the Tres D' Or."

There were six massive hotels on the island, and they had over two thousand rooms and suites each, and all had a minimum of three hundred thousand square feet of meeting space, plus each had massive five banquet cum reception rooms.

"The parties at each hotel will each ahve a different theme, so we're kinda expecting every one to drift around and find the one that suites them best. Your Expo ID's will get you into all of them." Here was going to be a Thati themed Luau on the beach, a C & W party, a Starlight Ball Room Nostaliga party, a 'Ask a Ninja' party, a Disco themed one, a Techno Rave, a Gothic gathering and many others.

He looked through his digital clip board but couldn't find the information quickly "Mr. Jones are your teams participating in all of the F1 series, or just certain ones?"

There were three Formula One races scheduled. The first one was scheduled for the day after next, the first Sunday of the Expo - all the Formula One races were scheduled on Sundays, except for the last Sunday of the show, the day it closed.

"We're only doing the first and the last, and thanks I'm sure everyone will be eager to attend the parties. Right now I've got some reports to look over so, is there anything else?"

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

Chantal threw back his head and laughted at Jason's comment about the beer. "Tanaara exports very little beer. We're a nation dedicated to microbreweries, there isn't any national beer, no single brewery produces enough and they're proud of that. But it's one of our favorite libations, though Tanaaran wines have always been good, but again our vintners tend to produce on the small scale, being very picky about what they offer." She smiled as she took another sip of her campari and wine.

"And excellent way of putting it. I picked up A Dominator recently, a custom built by Psychosis." Chantal indicated an exhibit area across the aisle and north of the Valahalla exhibit. "And it's very functional, save for it has not a drop of trunk space. So I am thinking of getting something else for theose times when I need to transport something. " She took a delicate bite of a stuffed mushroom cap. Once she'd swallowed she sighed "I loaned Viktor my chef, he is just marvelous! Are you planning to attend the banquets tonight, or are you one of the lucky two hundred and fifty enough to have gotten invitations to the hush hush reception and feast up on the tenth level where all those armed guards are keeping people out?"

She was one of the two hundred and fifty, but she had not yet decided whom to take as her date. Chantal wanted it to be some one sure to piss off the Tanaraan monarch, who would also be there.

Finishing of the quiche and taking a sip or two of his beer before getting another of the minature delights just in time for Chantal to finish speaking. "Oh well not that I know of, and so I'd presume that's a no, but I had heard of rumours of something going on up their. Didn't know it was an exclusive party though."

Verona / Bazalonia Racing Team Hanger

"We're only doing the first and the last, and thanks I'm sure everyone will be eager to attend the parties. Right now I've got some reports to look over so, is there anything else?"

"No Sir, just holler if you need me, I ro my relief will be her etwenty four hours a day. Have a good day Mr. Jones" Corporal Sevyard repleied, then left to check on other matters.

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

Oh well not that I know of, and so I'd presume that's a no, but I had heard of rumours of something going on up their. Didn't know it was an exclusive party though."

"Oh then you haven't tried to go up to the tenth level - there are heavily armed guards who are rude as all get out blocking the way, and they Aren't Timzee troopers either." Chantal frowned "There is some ones super exclusive play toys up there and they're going to be charging admission." She scooped up another mushroom and then looked at Jason with a grin " Care to be my date, I know it's last minute but it doesn't begin itll eleven, and they're closing the concourse up at nine, so plenty of time to get ready." She grinned at him.

The racing team dispersed and all the other members of the Verona team at the TMZIA. Getting ready and other generally boring things, such as reports, driver breifings and the normal happenings within a racing team, but for the most of them it was time to let down their hair and have some fun.

Everyone had started to get ready for the parties going tonight.

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

"Well, um, wow, I didn't expect that, I don't have any other plans, and, wow, I accept." Jason stumbled his way through accepting. It seemed to good to be true but how could you say no, not only the Chantal, but also going to such an event. There wasn't anything else to do but to accept.

If anyone had noticed Lance rolling his car back into its show spot, they didn't give any indication of any kind to it. Lance emerged from the seat, closing the door and leaning backwards against the car. He ran a hand through his hair, a mop of unruly hair that was a far cry from the close shaved head he sported in his younger years.

"Hey Dad."

Lance didn't look up, but he did wave a hand slightly as it caressed his forehead. He had developed a headache, but he suspected that it was weather related, as stress typically gave him headaches elsewhere in the brain.

"You boys just clean the car up and call it a night. I'm heading to my room." Lance instructed as the other apprentice approached.

"Hey, you'd know there's some big thing going on upstairs, tenth floor?"

"No. Nor do I really care at the moment."

"Might be some hot numbers there you know."

"I don't care."

"Dad. Girls. Hot girls. And booze."

Lance glowered at his son, "Shut the fuck up already. I don't give a fuck about the goddamn party. It can have all the women naked, and I still won't give a goddamn."

His son raised his hands in defense, "A'ight. Chill dude."

Lance walked off, heading to his room. "Let me know if you hear anything about Willow." he called over his shoulder, receiving a wave in response. As he walked away, Lance couldn't help but wonder why her injuries were affecting him so. She was just another racer. She was just another person. And she did know the risks. He had also seen more than his share of accidents, both to himself, and to others, so it wasn't that.

"Bloody hell." he muttered as he keyed the elevator button.

Charli had held Jonni Lea, wanting her freind to cry if she needed to. Charli knew that Jonni Lea needed to, but she also knew that the chanecs of Jonni Lea letting go where any one might witness next to none. Then the altercation between David and Ryan started, and Jonnie Lea pulled away with a mutter of thanks and went to deal with it.

Charli headed over to the GNX, she knew her getting involved in the altercation would not be good, but she was more than a little angy at Ryan for starting it.

"Damn it Ryan could have been any less personable?" She asked him in a low voice - one that definitely did not carry past the two of them. "Some times you push buttons for the fun of it. Jonni Lea, David and the others are some of the only friends I have. Don't like them? Fine, but please...be civil?" She swore frustrated and worried still about Willow

"Willo's in surgery apparently, Rowan just called as we drove up."

Ryan just shrugged as he slid into the driver's seat, closing the door with a satisfying thud, reminisciant of modern European luxobarges. It was a testament of engineering that the more than twenty year old Buick was still as solid as the day it rolled out of Bowling Green.

"I just asked him why he didn't put a cage in the car, and he swung at me. I didn't goad him into it, if I had a catostrophic failure with any of my cars, I would expect someone to ask me some take down questions as well."

Ryan slotted the Buick into drive, and eased on the gas as he moved away from the crash site. "Do you want to go to the hospital first, or head back to the hotel?"
___

Hoot had made his way off on his own. He had some nice clothes already unpacked and ready to go for the dinner later that night, but his first concern was Willow. He had requesitioned a decent ride out of one of the garages, a rather low key auto that he surely doubt would be missed. A navigation unit in the car had been plugged with the hospital coordinates, and now he piloted his way expertly though traffic.

Arriving in no more than a short time after the initial ambulance, he parked, and made his way into the lobby, finding a reception desk. He approached with nothing more than a walk, having spent years upon years training himself to approach danger, risk, loss, and death with a stoic and almost calm persona.

"What room did they take Willow Hickok too? I think she might be in surgery or ICU, so, is there somewhere I can wait?"

Headquarters City, Trauma One

"What room did they take Willow Hickok too? I think she might be in surgery or ICU, so, is there somewhere I can wait?"

"Hoot? What are you doing here?" Rowans voice sounded from down the hall. She came up to him quickly almost at a trot. "She's beenin surgery about ten, twenty minutes " The youngest of the Hickok sisters looked terrible her eyes red and a silvery blonde hair wind tangled. "Theres a surgical waiting room up on the second floor. I was headed up there a s soon as the twins get back from a coffee bar run." She laughted a little shakey "They think I need some. Why don't you go on up and we'll be up soon as they get back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wreck Site

Charli pinched her nose and apologised "I'm sorry Ryan. He shouldn't have swung at you, agreed. But you do have to admit thats not really a catastropic failure of the car, thats more like a pissed off god giving you the finger. What did Hoot have to say? I noticed you all talking' She settled back and shook her head as a shiver ran down her spine.

"If there's time from what ever other plans there are, could it be the hospital?" She looked at him worry still showing in her eyes. "Apparently Lance Freeman, I don't know if you know him from the street racing sceen, got her all upset and Willow did something abnormal for her. She's usually so calm and level headed....cept she hasn't been lately." Charli frowned, more to herself than anything "Thats weird she has been touchy for about the last year now that I think about it" She shrugged and dropped the subject but didn't stop thinking on it as she enjoyed Ryans smooth driving."I've missed you so much dear." She turned her head to watch him.

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

"Well, um, wow, I didn't expect that, I don't have any other plans, and, wow, I accept." Jason stumbled his way through accepting. It seemed to good to be true but how could you say no, not only the Chantal, but also going to such an event. There wasn't anything else to do but to accept.


Chantal smiled, not at all put off by his less than stellar acceptance. Jason had actually done better than she'd expected, and her smile was brilliant. "Now it's formal, very formal. Did you bring a tux? I doubt most any one did, since even the top loftiest of the other banquets aren't that formal. And since I am the one asking you out, would you be to offended if I offered to supply you with a tuxedo?" She asked gently. She didn't want to put him out and heavens only knew if there'd be a single tuxedo in the whole of TMZ fit for tonight. "Please, understand it really would be my pleasure."

TMZ HeadQuarters Trauma 1

The surgery took a long time, as there were several compound fractures bones to set, but fortunately the flailed ribs had not punctured the lungs. However Willow's spleen had to be removed and they were going to watch her liver read outs carefully, as it had a moderately sever stellate fracture, and might have to be reoperated on. The damage to the slpeen and the liver accounted for the internal bleeding, and the bad wound in her left thigh where a fan blad had pierced her accounted for the other blood loss, which had been severe. Willow recieved a number of units during hte course of the surgery.

The orthopedic team worked on Williow simultaneously with the thoratic team and the bones in her left arm and leg were easily pinned. There was no nervous system damage and they wheeled her out to SICU from recovery just about ten hours later. Family had been allowed one very brief visit in Recovery, but they were advised that she probably wouldn't remember their visit, as she still had large amounts of anethesia in her system.

They expected her to be in SICU for at least three days if no complications arose.

The shaking of Lance's arm caused him to reach up suddenly and grab his assailant by the throat, twisting them around until they were on their knees and choking. Only then did Lance fully awaken and realize who it was. His son's eyes looked up at him widely, but understandingly. Releasing him, Josh stood and rubbed his neck. "Sorry, I forgot." he muttered.

Lance had done that every time someone had tried to awaken him with violent shaking for it was such a subconscious reaction, a result of living a hard life throughout his younger years. He wasn't well off, but he did have some money nowadays. Everything he had going for him had been of his own blood and sweat.

"No, I'm sorry." Lance replied, "That shouldn't have happened." He rose from the bed he had been sleeping on top of, ran a hand through his hair and picked up the shirt he had tossed earlier onto the chair nearby. Slipping it over his head and pulling it down, he then cracked his neck and walked to the kitchen to pull a bottle of water out. As he opened the cap, he looked at his watch, seeing that it was getting late in the afternoon, well into the evening.

"Josh, you and Jason go have some fun. Join that party. I'm not going." Lance announced, causing Jason to emerge from another room.

"Where are you going then?" Jason asked as he leaned against a doorway.

"The hospital. I need to see how she's doing." Lance replied quietly in between sips of water.

Josh nodded, "All right." He slapped Jason with the backside of his hand, "Let's go dude. I'm itchin' to see some of those girls."

Jason laughed, "You mean all of 'em."

Josh merely gave him a shark grin. "Maybe." The two of them disappeared into their rooms to get ready. They had brought suits, but not tuxedos. In their rooms, they didn't hear the front door open and close quietly.

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

"Well, um, wow, I didn't expect that, I don't have any other plans, and, wow, I accept." Jason stumbled his way through accepting. It seemed to good to be true but how could you say no, not only the Chantal, but also going to such an event. There wasn't anything else to do but to accept.


Chantal smiled, not at all put off by his less than stellar acceptance. Jason had actually done better than she'd expected, and her smile was brilliant. "Now it's formal, very formal. Did you bring a tux? I doubt most any one did, since even the top loftiest of the other banquets aren't that formal. And since I am the one asking you out, would you be to offended if I offered to supply you with a tuxedo?" She asked gently. She didn't want to put him out and heavens only knew if there'd be a single tuxedo in the whole of TMZ fit for tonight. "Please, understand it really would be my pleasure."


"To be honest, I don't even own a Tux... But really it's too much, I want to pay for it."

Tanaaran Automotive Consortium

"yeah, I'm not sure either, sounded like it could have been close whatever it was. Well, I'm sure we'll find out if it was anything major soon."

Gwen frowned then shook it off with a bright smile at Fred "It could be just some sort of training exercise. I understand that just north of Liberty City is one of their larger naval bases. I was a fire controll officer on one of our battleships, and the man made thunder of even dummy rounds could be heard for miles. But the weather looks lovely, so..." She handed him a set of keys, then led the way down to where the TAC's stable of test drive cars were parked. They had two Astrals available for test drives.

"Here we go, which do color do you favor, Ultramarine or Burgandy?" The ultramarine was a deeply radiant blue with the faintest hint of green to it, reminescent of tropical ocean depths. The burgandy was as if the finest of the wine of that same name had been convinced to be the paint for the sleek Astral.

The interiors of both were luxurious with with fine leather, rich woods and every amenity. "The seats have eighteen different variables, so you can adjust them to perfectly fit you And the enty is keyless. Either by the Fob, or by the hidden keypad" With a light touch the concealing pannel flipped up reavealing the seven digit linnear keypad, and the additional security of a forefinger sensor pad. "A forfinger is more convienent for the driver to use than having to bring a thumb in close enough to use." Gwen explained to Fred with a smile.

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

"To be honest, I don't even own a Tux... But really it's too much, I want to pay for it."

"Jason, Do you really want to buy the quality of tuxedo needed for tonight - though I have to admit that a good quality tux will last a life time" She looked at him very seriously "and will never go out of style."

"I'll contact my father's tailor, and you can pay for it. Don't worry my father spends enough money with him that he'll come running" Chantal offered - she intended to make sure he was charged no more than three thousand aurics, she'd cover the other twenty thousand herself. That would be what it would cost to get him and his staff over to the TMZ and have a tuxedo ready to wear by the start of the party tonight. It was pocket change for her.

"What suit size do you wear? Chantal asked as she pulled out her cell phone and PDA.

Tanaaran Automotive Consortium

"yeah, I'm not sure either, sounded like it could have been close whatever it was. Well, I'm sure we'll find out if it was anything major soon."

Gwen frowned then shook it off with a bright smile at Fred "It could be just some sort of training exercise. I understand that just north of Liberty City is one of their larger naval bases. I was a fire controll officer on one of our battleships, and the man made thunder of even dummy rounds could be heard for miles. But the weather looks lovely, so..." She handed him a set of keys, then led the way down to where the TAC's stable of test drive cars were parked. They had two Astrals available for test drives.

"Here we go, which do color do you favor, Ultramarine or Burgandy?" The ultramarine was a deeply radiant blue with the faintest hint of green to it, reminescent of tropical ocean depths. The burgandy was as if the finest of the wine of that same name had been convinced to be the paint for the sleek Astral.

The interiors of both were luxurious with with fine leather, rich woods and every amenity. "The seats have eighteen different variables, so you can adjust them to perfectly fit you And the enty is keyless. Either by the Fob, or by the hidden keypad" With a light touch the concealing pannel flipped up reavealing the seven digit linnear keypad, and the additional security of a forefinger sensor pad. "A forfinger is more convienent for the driver to use than having to bring a thumb in close enough to use." Gwen explained to Fred with a smile.

Fred smirked, he had choosen the burgandy, it just seemed to be more attractive to him, he couldn't place why but it just seemed to grab and hold his attention. He listened as Gwen did her speal and couldn't help just try and manuover his thumb in a way as if trying to get it fingerprinted in the system. It was indeed easier andfelt more natural when he pretended to do his forfinger instead, of course he privately hoped that Gwen wouldn't notice. He was strangely a physical man despite being the CEO of a corporation. He assumed that she would enter the code, and scan fingerprint or use the fob on the keychain to open the door and let him inside so he could take it for a test drive.

First Level Concourse, Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

"To be honest, I don't even own a Tux... But really it's too much, I want to pay for it."

"Jason, Do you really want to buy the quality of tuxedo needed for tonight - though I have to admit that a good quality tux will last a life time" She looked at him very seriously "and will never go out of style."

"I'll contact my father's tailor, and you can pay for it. Don't worry my father spends enough money with him that he'll come running" Chantal offered - she intended to make sure he was charged no more than three thousand aurics, she'd cover the other twenty thousand herself. That would be what it would cost to get him and his staff over to the TMZ and have a tuxedo ready to wear by the start of the party tonight. It was pocket change for her.

"What suit size do you wear? Chantal asked as she pulled out her cell phone and PDA.

"Well, if you are sure. um, what does it say on my shirt?" Jason had no idea what his suit measurements would be, though he was wearing one now. At most he new he was an XXL, an Extra Extra Large. Whatever that translated to into traditional tailoring measurements he had no idea.

Ryan waited back in the main lobby of the hospital while Charli went to meet with the rest of the Pettimores. It wasn't meant to be an insult, but it was just his personality. He hated hospitals with a passion. First, they had the gaul to charge people fees even if you went in and didn't come out, which Ryan felt was failure to render services. Then there was that overly clean smell. The scent of sterlization and cleaning chemicals. Then there was the invincibility portion.

One thing most street racers shared in common was a full distaste for places like hospitals. No matter how clean, how well staffed, how good the turn out was, there was still an aire of death around them. It was something that couldn't be avoided. Now, Ryan was no stranger to death. He had probably killed more people than any number of people in the hospital combined. Well, on purpose at least. He had no problem reaching out and snatching away the flame of life from anyone.

However, the hospital was an inanimate thing where people came to die. When any racer was in the hospital, most visited for only a short moment before leaving. It forced them to admit their own mortality, and that was something Ryan wasn't going to do anytime soon.

Hoot never noticed Ryan or Charli come in, he had followed Rowans instructions and made his way up to the waiting room. He slipped in the room silently, and stayed off to the side. He would wait with the rest till any word was delivered.

It was durring this time the rest of the Imitoran shops arrived. The cars rolling into the show room, posting up in their set displays represented a full line of high powered super tuned machines. A three rotor swap FD3S, a twin turbo Lamborghini, a full drag prepped Nissan Skyline, and even more. The NIAS team was the last to arrive, with another Skyline belonging to the shop owner, set up with sights on Fortier's own Supra. Thier had been many a battle leading to the war between the two houses, and the final fight would be fought here.

Garages were quickly set up, display booths populated with examples of not only teh cars, but the parts used to build them, all shined up and polished to attract potential buyers. The Imitorans were all in town, and ready to turn up the real heat on the streets.

TMZ Trauma 1 Wating room

Davie, Jonni Lea, Johnny Lee who had to leave before too long, the twims and as many other of the Pettimore Outlaws as could get away from the Expo poured into the waiting room. They all greeted Hoot warmly, they'd gotten used to having him around back during the LD50 virus problems and now acted as if he hadn't really left. Save for a few comments..

"Hey Hoot, where'd ya vanish to, and never even sent us a christmans card!"

"Yeah, missed ya hanging out the chopper."

"Hey can't have a upstanding Imitoran citizen sending mail to us American Gangsters."

"Hey gangsters extort people"

"Yeah contorted maybe, but extort, never!'

"At least I stopped losing at poker with him gone."

They joshed among themselves, and with Hoot in an amicable fashion -strong healthy people in worry for one of their own, in a setting most of them had no wish to be in.

David went over to Hoot after a bit, in effect chasintg the others away so to speak "Hoot? You don't need to be here. I know Willow'd appreciate your being here. She got kinda down after you left." That was as close as David would talk about his cousin in law's private feelings. He also knew that Johnny Lee and others had a meeting with Hoot not that much later."You don't have to stay, I'll be glad to call you once we know something."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan had told Charli about his meeting scheduled for later and after a bit she went to the downstairs waiting room "Ryan, why don't you go on and go. I know you aren't comfortable here. I'd like tio stay until they get Willow into recovery and Jonni Lea's had a chance to see her. I'll catch a ride back to the hotel." She hugged him, suddenly chilled. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?"

She had missed him so deeply, and wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. However she knew his days at the Expo were full, she just hoped that his nights hadn't already been planned out.


Tanaaran Automotive Consortium,

Gwenn smiled inwardly, she'd seen Fred unobtrusively trying out fore finger versus thumb, and she'd also noted his attraction to the wine dark one. Her fingers danced over the code and the door swung up and away giving an unusually large amount of entry space, ever for some one quite a bit taller than average. Moving lightly around to the other side she called "Hop in!" She keyed the code on the passenger door and slid in herself.

"It can be set for needing two codes, one code to unlock both sides simultaneously, or one code that opens the passenger side and leaves the drivers locked or vice versa . They keys I gave you are actually reduntand. The Astral's been set up to either push button start or key start. We are going for every convienence."

She looked at her watch "Oh plenty of time, where ever you'd like to go Fred"

Hoot nodded. "Yeah, duty called an all. Needed someone who was capable of hitting something that wasn't really dead, and making it really dead. Our outbreak was minimal at best, just a few hundred thousand in the more southern regions. Had a couple of the spec ops units handle most of it."

He joked and made small talk with the rest of the Pettimores when the offer was given for him to roll out.

You don't have to stay, I'll be glad to call you once we know something.

Hoot nodded. "I hate to leave her like this. I'd want to be here when she wakes up, but I have some sort of sit down later on that requires more political attention than anything. When she wakes up, tell her I'll be here as soon as I can."

Ryan was having the same thoughts. He knew Charli would want him to stay, but it just wasn't good for him. He was about to accept her offer when Hoot came down of an elevator and waved over to him.

"Hold up kid, you and I have some talking to do. Your rolling out with me, I'll take you back to the hotel."

Ryan just shrugged, and handed the keys of the GNX back to Charli. He leaned in, kissed her on the cheek, and smiled. "Sorry babe, but duty calls and such. I should be free tomorow night, but I'll see you later tonight, if not back at the hotel, then I'll catch you somewhere."

He spun on his heel, following Hoot out of the hospital and into the older Imitoran's car.
____

Doc and Rays were face down on the massage tables, a bottle of some of the more expensive brand of actuall champaigne (from the Champigne region of France) in one hand, an equally expensive cigar in the opposite hand. Women, attractive to each man's taste, handled the massage. A stereo off in the corner oddly played not relaxing music, nor soft sounds of soothing nature, but Jerry Reed's East Bound and Down.

A cell phone chirped, and Doc snatched it up, hitting the talk button.

"Its Doc," he said, curtly.

He remained silent, listening to the other end intently. The massuse would note a sudden tension returning to his shoulders and back. After a few moments, he snapped the phone shut, and tossed it aside, taking a long pull on the Champaigne, and then the cigar. "Harlan is in, and looking for Ryan. Looks like we got ourselves a bit of a show down on our hands."

"I hate to leave her like this. I'd want to be here when she wakes up, but I have some sort of sit down later on that requires more political attention than anything. When she wakes up, tell her I'll be here as soon as I can."

David would let Hoot know the minute he knew somthing. He didn't think the older Imitoran had been waiting there for his health. "You got it bro." He watched his friend leave with a quirked eye brow. As far as he'd known there'd been nothing between Willow and Hoot, but now he wondered if there was something that had never been addressed.

~~~~~

"Sorry babe, but duty calls and such. I should be free tomorow night, but I'll see you later tonight, if not back at the hotel, then I'll catch you somewhere."

"Be safe" Charli called after him as she watched him leave with a wry, ever so slightoly wistful smile on her lips. He was going off on some sort of Imitoran government business again. She hated that, loathing the Imitoran government with a silent soul deep loathing that time, or their leaving her and Ryan mostly alone, had done anything to dull. She didn't understand Ryan's loyality but she wouldn't question it.

Hours passed and eventually Jonni Lea, David and Rowan were allowed to briefly visit a mostly still out of it Willow in the surgical recovery zone. She looked horrible, burried under iv lines, a drain in her side from both her thoratic and abdominal cavities, and her left side lost under multiple casts, her left leg also in traction. The least was the massive bruising all over her body that gave her a harliquin appearnace. She was barely awake to recognise them and she fell back under even begore they left. But she managed a hoarsed voice 'Sorry Jonni"

Jonni Lea could only hope that Willow had heard her "Nothing to be sorry for" before going under again. Rowan was crying as they left, tucked under Jonni Leas arm. David placed a call to Hoot, leaving a message if the ring went unanswered "Hoot she came though alive, didn't get a chance to pass on your message, she got out about four words before going back blotto. She looks like hell. David"

Charli stayed an hour longer and then caught a ride to the hotel. She was exhausted, the accident had happened at four and it was one am before she walked through the door to the Gibson Hotel's penthouse.

Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

Well, if you are sure. um, what does it say on my shirt?"

Chantal laughed "Oh that won't tell us anything. Let me get some quick measurements" Summoning over one of the VMS attendants she sent them off after a measuring tape and in no time at all was making a game of getting Jason's measurements.

"There we go and I'll call him right now" Chantal laughed.

Slightly Earlier

"Of course I plan to win. Every race we enter, I plan to win. I don't think anyone really understands the skill, prowress, and mind set of the NIAS crowd here. We have our fans out here, and plan on placing nothing less than first in whatever we enter."

The sound bite belonged to David Harlan, the CEO of Northampton Import Automotive Specialists. The super shop was one of the oldest in Imitora, and had been at the forefront of automotive tunning not just in Imitora, but in the world. And it was here that Daivd Harlan planned to let people know how far ahead of the game NIAS.

Another reporter spoke up. "What about the claims that you've sabotaged competitors cars in the past to get a win?"

David was standing inbetween a turbocharged Honda NSX and a supercharged Ferrari F430 Scudaria. He laughed, smiling a smile that was nothing less of charming, showing a perfect set of white teeth. "Ludicrous. At best. In Imitora, its run what you brung, and when people bring cars that are subpar, they look to blame people for their loss."

Anoter reporter. "What's under the sheet?"

"A shop project car we've been working on for a while. Its a big deal, pretty impressive when it comes to power numbers and usefullness. It'll be available for viewing in a few days."

"Are the rumors true that you have a planned grudgematch against the Psychosis team?"

Harlan chuckled. "I thought we had some real builders and tuners here, not some wannabes?"

His voice belayed no concern, but full confidence. As far as he was concerned, he was the best, and it would be nothing short of an act of god that would put him anywhere but first. Behind him, the gold R33 Skyline GT-R, his own personal car, reflected light in the bright flash from the over head lights and cameras, and their own laser light set up danced around the cars. Massive speakers blared Young Jeezy's Go Getter, as if a sort of shop anthem.

Halran smiled, taking just a few more questions, and then returned to his hotel, with full plan to attend the banquet later that evening.
____

As Charli entered the hotel room, she would find herself facing something quite different than when she left. The main room of the suite wasn't quite packed, but close enough. A DJ off in a corner was playing more rap with a good steady beat. Not so much in the way of the usual cash cars clothes and hoes rap popular in Imitora, but dancier music, based around strong beats. A number of room service trays with a full selection were out, and bottles of almost obscenely expensive champaigne were being passed around, as well as a full selection of the best cigars available. The crowd was all in the late twenties, early thirties, with an easy two to one female to male ratio. Most of the girls were there on their own accord, regardless of profession, but some were on the clock, so to speak.

Charli caught Rays being pulled off with two women, neither of which were on the clock. "Hey Charli," he shouted back as they pulled him off, clawing at his shirt. "Ryan is in your room," he said, faking a struggle against the women. He took a long pull from a bottle of something most definately alchoholic, and disapeared into his room.

Doc was in a corner off to the side, wearing a more than just expensive pinstripe suit that he had customed tailored from the hotel. The almost shiny black shirt sported an deep crimson tie, with a French collar and cuffs. A matching pin strip hat was tipped over the top of his head, and a good mix of women were hanging on every one of his words, stories of street racing conquests.

The center of the room was packed with party goers, some part of the Psychosis crew, some from other teams, and others just normal people that Doc and Rays had invited or called up from the hotel's outdoor pool, where the impromtu party had started. Just beyond that was another tray of finger foods, and the in room bar had been quickly staffed by one of the hotel's best, and was serving any concoction that the party goers could ask for.

A good hard search would find not only Hoot, but also Kevin Bendigo and some of his team from Bat Shit Crazy. Psychosis and BSC had maintained a very friendly relationship thus far, and Kevin and his team would have no problem partying with Psychosis boys. Also amongst the crowd was the group from TMZ Experimental Motors, the shop that Psychosis would be using for promotional purposes. Ryan and Doc had planned to do a four hour free tuning sesion, where show goers and locals would be able to bring in their cars and get a free ECU tune. BSC was also planning a five hour midnight madness dyno competition, where starting at eleven pm and going out to four am, a horsepower competition would be held, the winner getting a nice little prize from the BSC crew.

Ryan had been off in the room, on the phone as Doc had hand signaled Charli before going back to the women around him. As she entered their own private room, Charli caught the tail end of Ryan's phone conversation.

"Teams, she gave us a damned blank check. Anything. I want you to get in with your contacts, and I don't care who. Provos, the Germans, Arabs, anyone. I'm gonna be out for the month, so I want you to stay on top of this. You have full control of the teams, use it if you have to. Alright. Good, I gotta roll."

He snapped the phone shut, and turned. His tux had been unbuttoned at the top, the hanging tie tossed asid, jacket open. When Ryan turned to toss the phone onto the bed, his jacket flared, and his over the shoulder clearly displayed the custom 1911. However, when he saw Charli, he smiled.

His eyes were no longer the angry grey they had been seconds earlier, instead a full, deep blue, and his smile friendly. He swept Charli into his arms, kissing her. "How'd it go?"

Charli melted into the passionate kiss, returning it in full "You look incredible in a tux! Now how come I could never get you into one and that bitch Chantal suggests one and you wear one?" Charli would just as soon see the woman dead, never had liked her and the Baronesses ownership of one of Psychosis covered Dominators rankled her to no end. If Ryan never had another thing to do with the woman Charli would be very happy. However she wasn't going to dwell on that...

"Willow's in one piece now. Liver damage but Jonni Lea says as clean as Willow's lived, her liver was in good shape to start with and will mend. She looks like death wamred over but thats normal after trauma like that."

She was in a good mood after the relief of the better than expected prognosis. "And Doc looks like a pimp in that pin striped hat. Why didn't some one talk him outta it?"

A few minutes after Charli had arrived Hoot's phone rang.

He'd recognise the voice, it was Johnny Lee's right hand, Nathan Green. "Hoot. We don't know your boy Ryan well enough to call direct, but this needs to be passed along, got the triple checks on the intel while you all were gabbing. Charli needs to stay outta the US for a year or maybe more. We stopped four attempts on her while she was here, and that last wildfire - the one she stayed longer to help coordinate the crews on - that was deliberate arson. She might actually have been aware of the attempt on her then, but I don't know for certain. And no she has no idea that every time she hits the States she's got some of our people doing over watch on her."

Lance glanced around the small crawlspace he had been making his way through, having entered it by pushing aside a ceiling panel in the bathroom just down the hall. Earlier, through the use of simple disguise, he had seen there were some people stationed outside the room that was Willow's, identified by conversations passed idly down the hall to his ears. Visiting hours had ended not too long ago, but Lance wasn't one to let a simple rule like that stop him.

Peering down through a panel pulled aside slightly, he saw Willow below him and off to the left, near an window with blinds closed. She was alone. Satisfied he had found the right room, he pushed the panel aside even further, dropped down quietly and approached her bed.

"My God..." he whispered quietly, a hand gently stroking the top of her hand, sliding over the inserted needles that fed into her veins. She looked terrible, more so than he had imagined. She was, to her credit, alive. To survive something like that, only showed Lance the indomitable spirit she possessed.

Sitting down into the chair nearby, he watched her as she lay there, her breathing soft yet ragged. The machinery beeped endlessly, and the sterile atmosphere of the hospital was almost sickening.

"Come on girl...pull through." he whispered ever so quietly as he gazed upon her battered face. He remained where he was, undisturbed for a while. After some time, he closed his eyes and his chin dropped to his chest.

Ryan chuckled.

"Nah, Hoot told me to."

Ryan shucked off the coat to remove the over the shoulder, and tossed it out onto the bed.

"I think Doc looks good with that set up. Fits him well, and the tailor recomended the full pinstripe set up. Could be worse, he could be in a full top hat, not the little half hat job he has."

He pulled the tux coat back on, but left off the tie and the shirt open for the first few buttons. A quik hand through his hair to mess it all up, and a spray of the Ferrari cologne he had brought along.

He turned, and leaned back against the dresser set up. "Ready to go make an appearence?" he asked, tossing his head towards the door. "Also, need you to do me a favor if you can."

"Not with you looking like Bond after a night tusseling with bad guys. I look like a woman who just spent eight hours in a hospital waiting room. In a great tee yeah but all the other ladies out there ..." Charli just sighed and gave a wry grin "I can't compete, so why try." She looked in the mirror and winced over her worn appearance. I look so haggard she thoughtBut Ryan loves me and thats better than being beautiful

"My favors are your's to command" she teased, looking at Ryan, and knowing that to him she was beautiful, even though she knew she couldn't compare to others. Like Chantal who looked so much like Charli sometimes wished she did.

Valhalla Motor Sports Bar

Well, if you are sure. um, what does it say on my shirt?"

Chantal laughed "Oh that won't tell us anything. Let me get some quick measurements" Summoning over one of the VMS attendants she sent them off after a measuring tape and in no time at all was making a game of getting Jason's measurements.

"There we go and I'll call him right now" Chantal laughed.

Jason was certainly a bit embarrassed as Chantal was measuring him up, he had only known her for a few minutes and he'd already been asked out on a date, been offered a Tux, and now she she was near his "precios equipment".

After she had finished, "Good, Let's get me a new Tux." he spoke adding in his mind "and get it all out of the way." It was obvious he wasn't much of a clothes shopper and a personal tailor? Well, as long as he didn't get too personal he supposed it would be alright.

Ryan smiled at her, and pulled a white box off the dresser he stood next to. He gently tossed it forward onto the bed, and grinned.

"Didn't think you would. I picked that up for you on the way back. Sorta a way to kinda make up for how much I've been gone, and having to skedaddle tonight from the hospital. And the shower works real nice when you use it. Well, for just showering," he said, winking.

He turned back to the mirror and adjusted his collar so that the shirt collar stuck out over the edges of his tux jacket. "Not much of a favor really. Just one of these next few days, I was wondering if you could scoot on up to the NIAS booth, and see if you can tell what Harlan brought with him. I know he didn't bring the Silvia, he blew that up back in Rainington at the four banger show down."

He turned and leaned back against the desk as he watched Charli unwrap the box and pull out the dress. "You like?"

"Oh it's beautiful. Ryan you didn't have to!" The dress ended up on the bed and Charli back in Ryan's arms, kissing him enthusiastically. "Mmmmmm that cologne is nice but you wearing it makes it smell better. And yes that shower does work well..for everything!"

"I'll be glad to wander over and find out" She agreed as she pulled off her tee and tossed it over a chair and it was soon followed by her jeans." I don't think any of them have ever met me. Shouldn't bee too hard to pull off"

"I'll be out in about an hour, you go start having fun."

And true to her word she was joining the party in just about an hour, hair gleaming softly as it flowed past her shoulders. The bronze hued dress clinging to her, showing off every curve, her face was alight as she made her way over to where Ryan was chatting with a small group of people. Though Charli might not believe it she was a head turner and all Ryan had to do was watch the guys eyes go wide.

Tanaaran Automotive Consortium,

Gwenn smiled inwardly, she'd seen Fred unobtrusively trying out fore finger versus thumb, and she'd also noted his attraction to the wine dark one. Her fingers danced over the code and the door swung up and away giving an unusually large amount of entry space, ever for some one quite a bit taller than average. Moving lightly around to the other side she called "Hop in!" She keyed the code on the passenger door and slid in herself.

"It can be set for needing two codes, one code to unlock both sides simultaneously, or one code that opens the passenger side and leaves the drivers locked or vice versa . They keys I gave you are actually reduntand. The Astral's been set up to either push button start or key start. We are going for every convienence."

She looked at her watch "Oh plenty of time, where ever you'd like to go Fred"

"I think I'll just drive around..." Fred said, he didn't really have anywhere special in mind where he wanted to go but he certainly wasn't going to let this opportunity, pass.

Lowering himself into the seat he stretched a bit. getting a feel for the upholstry and determining how much he'd have to change the seating arrangements, to his surprise they didn't need much and what they needed to do seemed readily apparent and usable. Getting himself ready "Okay... let's go." He looked over the controls to see what was available for him to do, more importantly, he checked to see if this was a manual or automatic.

Valhalla Motor Sports Bar...

"Good, Let's get me a new Tux."

Chantal made the next few hours fly past, she was a vivacious conversationalist who did enjoy cars, but made no attempt to talk or act like an automotive insider. "They're fun but I'm no tuner, no engineer." She had a relaxed manner that was designed to set others at ease. If possible she got Jason to talking about himself and what he enjoyed. She was a goode listener and alwasy found something to keep the conversation flowing.

When the tailor, a wiry little man in his late sixties, and his team of aides showed up and whisked Jason off to a borrowed dressing room, the basted tuxedo fit with only minor alterations needed. "Sir, I'll have this at your hotel room by nine thirty, with all the necessities. Now what size shoes do you wear?" Once he had gotten that information he turned the piece over to his team for final sewing while others chose a shirt, tie, cufflinks and such to go with the tuxedo. He thanked Jason for the chance to create a tuxedo for him, then shooed him off.

It was 8 pm and the various liasons were letting people know that the concourse would be closing in an hour.

"Jason, they are sending limmos around to pick every one up for this special party. Why don't we have one pick us from the lobby of the Tres D' Or?" Chantal suggested. That was the five star hotel that the Bazalonia group had suites at. "We could meet for cocktails around ten fifteenish and the limmo could pic us up just before eleven." The hotel was less than a ten minute drive from the concourse.

HeadQuarters TMZ, Trauma 1

Lance Freeman had was exhausted, for it had taken him some hours to locate where Willow Hickok had been taken - hospitals every where being very careful whom they even would admit to having as a patient - then more time to manage to get into the private, vip suite she had been taken to after being released from the recovery suite.

The Pettimores had requested, and due to old friendships with high ranking TMZ officers among other reasons, had gotten Willow wasn't put on the reserved floor. The floor most hospitals didn't advertise, the suites there more like something out of a five star hotel than anything found in a hospital - though every possible bit of medicalt technology that might be found in the most progressive of ICU's was neatly tucked away for instant use.

But she had put in the next best, one of the vip private suites, and the chair Lance was in was comfortable beyond belief...

Untill a cold clear voice - low but carrying -that he didn't recognise caused his eyes to fly open

"Care to tell me why you are in my sisters room with out a mask and gown on?" He stood about three inches under six foot nine, and many women found that Army First Sergeant Oakman Butler Hickock looked just fine. Under the sterile gown and mask he wore the uniform of an US Army Ranger, and had been driven straight from the airfield - he didn't expect to find a strange man asleep in what was supposed to be a near sterile, limited contact environemnt. He was tired, worried sick over his sister, and not in any mood to put up with some grungy assed civillian's story.

"Care to tell me why you are in my sisters room with out a mask and gown on?"

Lance inhaled as he heard the voice, taking his time to open his eyes. Yet, he was awake already, and when he finally looked at the one addressing him, he looked him over and said nothing. He could tell this man was upset, and that he was in no mood for bullshit. That was fine, he wasn't intending to give any.

Lance remained sitting yet studied the man a few more moments before answering, "I'm here to see she gets through tonight alive. Nobody bothered to inform me about proper protocol." And it was partially true, for he had never asked. Nor had he entered through the normal entrances, but this last bit he was not about to reveal. It wasn't important as to how he got in, but now why.

"I don't mean to cause you any trouble. God knows your family's gone through more than enough already."

He rose finally, extending a hand to the man. "I'm Lance. Lance Freeman."

The First Sergeant reguarded him steadily for a minute, his gaze stern and not the least bit friendly. Finally he said "I was told what Jonni Lea said, and I'll hold to that. And as Wesley is on the door I know you didn't get in here the normal way." He wasn't stretching it too far, as he and Wesley had served together and Oakman knew that Wesley would rather piss himself ( and had in the past ) rather than leave his post.

"But I suggest now that you leave, the normal way if you please. And don't come back. I don't blame you and Rowan doesn't eaither, infact she'd like to apologise for screaming at you. But..."

He broke off as a barely audible hoarse voice whispered "Oak? Bro, what mountain did I fly inta.."

Glancing down to the offered hand not taken, Lance looked back up to the soldier and sighed inwardly. Clearly this man wasn't one to at the least attempt to appreciate Lance's reasoning for being here. He listened as the man spoke some more, but was momentarily interrupted by a voice Lance hadn't expected to hear a day after the wreck. Or was it two days? He didn't know for sure anymore.

Turning to face the bedridden girl, he watched as her brother approached her. He simply remained where he was, hands slipping behind his back in patience. He would wait for a moment longer, just long enough to let Willow know he had been here. His hand then slipped into his pocket and withdrew something. Studying it for a moment, he looked back at Willow.

He set the keys down upon a nearby tray. In seconds, he was gone as quiet as a wraith, passing Wesley, who gave a surprised look as Lance moved past him. Lance only spoke five words to him.

"Call her family. She's awake."

And he was gone.

TMZ HeadQuarters Trauma 1

Eyes that had spent litterally thousands of hours searching forbidding terrain were trained to catch the slightest hint of movement. And even eyes rimmed about in racoon like bruises still did. They flashed from her brothers form to the man she didn't recognise - memory yielded no information save a nagging sense that she should know him - she frowned , or tried to but the pain of bruised muscles caused her head to swim and when it cleared Oakman was leaing over her and the stranger yet not was gone. Was he'd some one I'd flew SAR or extraction on? This darn well doesn't look like the inside of a military hospital, how long have I been out. Musta beensome time if Oakman is here. How bad did I crumnple the chopper? Did I hurt anyone other than me doing it? Oh why can't I remember Her thoughts were chaotic and dull.
Her eyes weren't doing any good at keeping open either...

Lance hadn't gotten more than a few dozen feet until a small blonde whirl whind careened up to him through the door way of the near by waiting room that he had just passed. She stopped before running completely into him. Rowan blushed and looked at the tips of her sneakers "Mister Freeman, I wanted to say that I was sorry for shouting at ya. And I really didn't mean to knock ya over. Usually I just kinda barrel inta people and bounce offa them"


Tanaara Automotive Consortium

"Okay... let's go."

Fred would discover that it wasa a automatic, with the shift on the console between the seats. Gwen brought up the built in navigator and pulled up the roads off the island.

"If we go off the island and north, the roads look like they're nicely scenic. They hug the mountainside above the beaches and do a lot of twists and turns. and there seems to be some tunnels as well" Gwenn commented as she scrolled though the various maps available. "Or if you want to open her up on a long straight away, we could take the highway due west into HeadQuarters City. Thats a sixty mile drive on a multilane highway.

Instinctively, Lance had caught Rowan's movements out of the side of his eye and had shifted into a defensive blocking position, only to see that she had stopped before colliding with him. He listened to her apology and nodded quietly.

"Don't worry about it kid. You had every right to be upset. I just happened to be within sight."

He gestured with a nod back toward where he had come.

"Your sister's awake. Just woke up. Why don't you go see her?"

TMZ HeadQuarters City Trauma 1

"Your sister's awake. Just woke up. Why don't you go see her?"

"Yeah but not right to take it out on you. So I do apologise. We're really supposed to go in only one at a time and gowed up, but you look exhausted. Would you care for a cup of coffee? The stuff in the waiting room" She waved a hand towards the rooms he had come out of "Is surprizingly good and we've got trqays of sandwiched there too. Come on and get to know us." She offered, noting how tired he looked.

Lance nodded after several moments of thought on her offer. Part of him just wanted to get out of there, but part of him, the more loudly speaking part this time demanded he stay and help ease her own conscience.

"All right, just not for long though. I can't even remember when I last rolled out of a real bed."

"All right, just not for long though. I can't even remember when I last rolled out of a real bed."

"Oh boy you do look worn out" Rowan said sympathetically. "Are you sure you're safe to drive? I can get one of the gang to drive ya...we've got suites at the Tres D' Or, is that we're they put your group as well?" She led him into the waiting room that was filled with others of their group. They nodded at Lance in friendly enough fashion and went back to thier various activities. Some werer reading, fiver were playing cards, two dozed back off quickly and another trio were talking animatedly among themselves. Johnny Lee, Jonni Lea, David and the twins were all absent currently.

"How do you like your coffee?" Rowan asked as she went over to the side bar where a large heated carafe of coffee with various add on's - sugar, real cream, honey - and several trays of assorted, thickly stacked sandwiches waited. She grabbed a plate and piled several sandwich halves on it as she waited for his reply.

Ryan waved over Charli past a crowd of dancers, wrapping his arm around her waist as she neared him. He was talking with an older Japanese man, who seemed to have a hair cut and general fashion that stuck in the late seventies, early eighties, but it didn't bother him.

"Charli, this is Smokey Nagata from Top Secret Japan, pretty much one of the end all be alls of tuning," he introduced her, and doing the same for him. The man waved off the introduction as nothing more than hubris, and claimed he was nothing special. Ryan then turned back to the man, and bowed slightly.

"Smokey, it was a pleasure. We'll be seeing your around," Ryan smiled, and led Charli away. As he did so, he began pointing out people who most would not recognize from Adam, but Ryan could tell from a mile a way.

"That guy over there? That's Steve Kan, from the States. Texas, in fact. Knows more about rotary tunning than just about anyone in the world. The man over there in the nice suit chatting it up with one of the better paid girls out tonight? Michizo Niikura, CEO of MINE'S. First company to really do ECU tuning for Japanese cars. Chief engineer of SLP is over there at the bar; Mopar's Sales guy just disappeared to the bathroom; one of the girls talking to Doc is a big up somewhere in EA games, looking for some specialty cars for the next NFS."

Ryan dropped names that most would never be impressed with, but he found more than enough for bragging room. As large as it was, the room was still well packed, just enough room for Ryan and Charli to maneuver through the crowd. Ryan led Charli over to the bar, and grabbed a glass of something that had been mixed up with cranberry juice, and knowing Ryan's taste in the harder liquors, it was most likely rum. He took the first of a long pull, and then a long look around the party.

Doc was inching back towards his room, the now four women in tow. A younger couple was making out on the couch, and as the DJ transitioned away from rap and more into a trancy house mix. Rays was no where to be seen. All in all, it was an OK hotel party. Ryan hadn't been able to get kegs, but there was plenty of time for those in the coming months.

"So, what ya thinking?" he asked Charli, taking a good look around the party.

"So, what ya thinking?"

"People are having a great time, and you've got the more interesting people at the show here instead of being at the various parties the expo is showing. You did good hon!" She kissed him lightly and got a taste of what he was drinking.

"Mmmm, I want one a little lgihter on the rum please." She told the bar tender. "And you did right in getting this big a place, even if it must cost a small fortune." She took a few sips of her own drink and set it aside.

"However I want to dance withthe hottest man at the Expo, and that's you" She tugged his hand, urging him towards the area some had turned into a dance floor. "Almost as good as the horizontal mambo" She whispered in his ear, giving the tender skinned lobe the tiniest of loving nips

"How do you like your coffee?" Rowan asked as she went over to the side bar where a large heated carafe of coffee with various add ons - sugar, real cream, honey - and several trays of assorted, thickly stacked sandwiches waited. She grabbed a plate and piled several sandwich halves on it as she waited for his reply.

"Some milk, couple of scoops of sugar." Lance replied as he returned the nods sent his way. He watched as she piled a plate of sanwiches while he took a seat at an empty table. He sighed, planting an elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand.

"So, you lot give me the impression of a sort of mafioso family, especially by the way your buddy with the queer eye over there-" he thumbed toward the direction of the man standing next to the doorway, arms crossed in front of him, "-seems to be running doorman shift."

Lance knew he might've been offensive, but he didn't really care. He had always been a bit rough around the edges, barely refined enough to withstand society as it were. He hardly paid attention to society's rules anyway.

"So, you lot give me the impression of a sort of mafioso family, especially by the way your buddy with the queer eye over there seems to be running doorman shift."

Rowan threw back her head and gave a whole hearted laugh. "You won't find an Italian accent or a spare horse's head among us. We're considerably more native to the US than any Italian import. We're just a hard working family who's brought a few friends with us."

The others in the room had looked their way again at Rowan's laughter and they now burst into chuckles and chortles themselves.

"Hell we're Outlaws and damned proud of it."

"The mafia are a bunch of jealous johnny-come-lately wannabes. We're woven through the fabric of American life and culture." Said one of the oldest, a burly, still active appearing man with a head of salt and pepper hair, whose weathered features marked him as roughing it most of his life. "All of us can trace our ancestory back to an outlaw, gunslinger, maverick, madam, lawman or famous name from the 'Old West'. So we call ourselves the Outlaws, or Pettimore's Outlaws, since Johnny Lee took it from purely family business to a larger enterprize."

"What they aren't saying is that I'm an arms dealer among other things, and some of my wares are legal, some are not. I also transport here and there things that may or may not be legal in here or there." Johnny Lee strode into the room. Not as lightly as he once had, he did have a reason for the cane, but despite the cane he was still a dangerous man. "So yeah parts of the US government would love to snatch all of us up under various Rico charges and worse. Other parts won't let them" His grin was smug and evil yet disarmingly charming and warm hearted.

"Oh and that engine wasn't your fault, Willow shouldna drove that car, but even if it were one of the ones with a cage in them - I checked with some experts and they said that thirteen thousand plus pounds, seven full tons would have still had the same effect. A foot more to the center and she would have been dead. They say she was damnd lucky." Johnny Lee held out his hand to Lance. "And Willow is family and we do have enemies who might decide she'd make a nice hostage, or bargaining chip.

He didn't intend to let Lance know it, but he'd used his connections to get an incredibly thorough background check on Mister Lance Freeman and his two sons. He didn't believe in coincidences with out strong proof, but the Tarlachian was who he presented himself to be. And he'd asked Hoot a series of questions about him as well.

"Some one need to go get Thorn, Earthman and Ash. Their plane will be landing in about an hour" He advised, which caused the card players to scramble to their fet in a chorus ofr 'We'll go get em's'

Rowan smiled at the though of the last of her sibilings arriving as she set a cup of coffee doctored the way Lance had requested. "Mom and dad were killed when I was just two months old, Willow was fifteen, but Oak and Earth had just enlisted and were eighteen so they managed to keep us together. Willow raised me, she's as much my mom as a sister. Thorn and Ash are the middle twins, they're four years younger than Willow."

Lance listened as he got what he suspected to be a cleaned up version of the "family's" history, smiling when he deemed it appropriate, and shaking the hand of Johnny Lee. He studied the man carefully, gauging the man by the strength of his handshake, the posture held, and the thoughts behind the eyes that could never be hidden by anyone to those that knew what to look for.

Taking the coffee offered, he thanked Rowan quietly as he watched people leap to their feet like dogs on command. The mental imagery made him crack a smile for a brief moment. Turning back to Johnny Lee, he spoke confidently.

"I don't need a family to make my name. Besides, it matters jack shit if you've got royalty in your family or William Wallace, because they don't define you. Otherwise, we'd all be clones, and I've got only one thing to say to that."

He took a deep gulp of the coffee, feeling it course like lightning through his system, before he lowered it again.

He glanced to Rowan with a serious look suddenly on his face. His words were measured for weighted delivery, "Fuck. That. Shit."

"I don't need a family to make my name. Besides, it matters jack shit if you've got royalty in your family or William Wallace, because they don't define you. Otherwise, we'd all be clones, and I've got only one thing to say to that...Fuck. That. Shit."

"Clones? Hardly, but genetics do lead toward certain predispositions." Johnny Lee said lightly "And we each define ourselves, just a tad differently than most. With a handfull of exceptions we're all ex military so that gives all a generally common mind set within the organization which works well" He turned away to go fix himself a cup of joe. "Because we are 'hunka', a family created through choice rather than solely by blood, we're very close knit while still being extremely individualistic."

He took a sip of joe and regarded Lance with a level gaze "If you want, feel free to ask Hoot about us. He spent some time with us not that long ago."

Pulling a silver flask out of his jacket pocket he offered it to Lance "Home brew, something the Pettimores have done for generations"

That brought a snort from one or two fo the group that had pretty much returned to what they had been doing. Then one pulled the headphone out of the jack on the boom box she'd been listening to. She grinned with evil delight

"Damn it" Johnny Lee growled as the first notes sounded. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dc86_Weoye0)

Valhalla Motor Sports Bar...

"Good, Let's get me a new Tux."

Chantal made the next few hours fly past, she was a vivacious conversationalist who did enjoy cars, but made no attempt to talk or act like an automotive insider. "They're fun but I'm no tuner, no engineer." She had a relaxed manner that was designed to set others at ease. If possible she got Jason to talking about himself and what he enjoyed. She was a goode listener and alwasy found something to keep the conversation flowing.

When the tailor, a wiry little man in his late sixties, and his team of aides showed up and whisked Jason off to a borrowed dressing room, the basted tuxedo fit with only minor alterations needed. "Sir, I'll have this at your hotel room by nine thirty, with all the necessities. Now what size shoes do you wear?" Once he had gotten that information he turned the piece over to his team for final sewing while others chose a shirt, tie, cufflinks and such to go with the tuxedo. He thanked Jason for the chance to create a tuxedo for him, then shooed him off.

It was 8 pm and the various liasons were letting people know that the concourse would be closing in an hour.

"Jason, they are sending limmos around to pick every one up for this special party. Why don't we have one pick us from the lobby of the Tres D' Or?" Chantal suggested. That was the five star hotel that the Bazalonia group had suites at. "We could meet for cocktails around ten fifteenish and the limmo could pic us up just before eleven." The hotel was less than a ten minute drive from the concourse.

Jason pondered for a moment before replying... "Yeah, okay, well, we better go, they're closing up the place, and 10:15 sounds just great." After a moments pause he added "And the tailor is great," He added with a smile.

"See you quarter-past 10 at the Tres D'Or." and with that he headed off, she had kept his attention and kept him entertained for that entire time, which was indeed a remarkable acheivement, but he was all talked out. She was enchanting and lovely and there was no way he wasn't going to the party with her but he was also slightly exhausted. So he had a plan, he started up the Spa in his bathroom and just rested and soaked in it, it wasn't long until he had fell asleep... and 9:30 came around so quickly.

"Okay... let's go."

Fred would discover that it wasa a automatic, with the shift on the console between the seats. Gwen brought up the built in navigator and pulled up the roads off the island.

"If we go off the island and north, the roads look like they're nicely scenic. They hug the mountainside above the beaches and do a lot of twists and turns. and there seems to be some tunnels as well" Gwenn commented as she scrolled though the various maps available. "Or if you want to open her up on a long straight away, we could take the highway due west into HeadQuarters City. Thats a sixty mile drive on a multilane highway.

There wasn't any option "Where's the fun in going in a straight line?" Frederick commented, as he started to get the hang of the navigator software for himself, after just browsing through the system getting his bearings he was able to input the correct information for himself. Following the directions from navigation unit and taking a glance at the map every now and again. Frederick could feel the power that was there waiting to be unleashed.

Lance listened quietly as the story was told of the Pettimores, and when Johnny spoke of Hoot's involvement, that made Lance a bit more interested, especially considering Hoot's own history. Had Lance been paparazzi, he could have blown this connection way out of proportion and possibly damaged the good standing of both parties.

However, he wasn't. He despised paparazzi anyway. Hoot was his friend, and these Pettimores, although somewhat unsettling in their demeanor, didn't otherwise seem so dangerous to Lance.

He turned his attention to the music that now permeated the room. A slight smile crossed his face as he saw the irritation on Johnny Lee's face. He took the proffered flask and took a swig of it, tasting its contents. It was potent, but not overly so. "Not bad." he commented as he handed it back. He knew that Johnny was offering for him to put it in his coffee, but Lance didn't care for that this morning.

Johnny Lee sighed heavily then smiled "Well the one good thing about being imortalized in song is that most people then figure it's just a song and ya don't really exits."

He took the flask back and took a swig himself. "The recepie for this is nearly as old as America." He screwed the cap back on and tucked the flask away. The White Lightening was a smooth as silk and the kick didn't hit you till it hit the stomach.

Jonni Lea and David arrived just then and while she gave Lance a raised eyebrow look, she didn't say anything but went over to Rowan who was nodding off and told her to go get some sleep. "Now cuz, while you're awake enough to drive. Willow won't want you getting in a wreck yourself"

The younger woman just nodded and stood, carrying her coffee cup over to the trash. "Night all. Lance, thanks for coming by." She grabbed up her purse and headed toward the door.

Ryan took Charli's hand, leading her out to the floor.

"It'd be my pleasure."
___

Harlan looked over the display, making note of each vehicle. The Psychosis display was, as expected, almost as over the top as his own. While he didn't have his own DJ like Ryan did, he had the interactive Imitoran street racing simulator, and a set up designed by the head of the main design team used for the Tokyo Auto Saloon.

The space for the Supra was open, but Doc's Cobra and Rays' Evo were both in place, as well as the Porsche for the as of yet to be seen Tim. There was also what appeared to be a beaten and battered Nissan 240SX. He made note of what little information was available for each vehicle, including the missing Supra, and turned, slipping out as the final closing call had been made.

He had to get back to his own hotel, change, and be back in time for the banquet.

Tanaaran Automotive Consortium

"Where's the fun in going in a straight line?"

Gwenn laughed. "No where as far as I know!" She loved driving on Tanaaras multilanes when she needed to be some place in a hurrty, but just for the pleasure of driving she wanted twisties. She settled back comfortably and watched Fred enjoy himself. The scenery wasn't bad either. The islands were a mix of tropical and temertate with rich volcanic soil that made the trees and brilliant flowering plants grow profusely.

The Austral was a pleasure to drive. It wasn't a super car, but it had as much sport in its pedigree as luxury and embodied the best of both, or so she felt. There was plenty of pick up and go and ket showed no signs of wanting to let loose the road. It let you push the envelope with out feeling like the glue wsa going to give way at any moment. It had plenty in reserve.

Gibbson Hotel Penthouse Suite
"It'd be my pleasure."

"Our pleasure" Charli whispered as she nestled into his arms as the music eased into something soft and dreamy that could be danced to forever.

However come four, she was dragging Ryan off to bed wether the party had ended or not.

She didn't know how long the danced, but eventually thirst drew them away from the dance floor and Charli looked about to see that the party's attendies had changed but not much.

"Is Hoot here some place Ryan? I didn't really get a chance to say Hi! to him earlier" She asked as she took a sip of water with lime.


TMZ Expo, 10th level

The minute the rest of the concourse closed for the night the ten floor went into overdrive. In less than two and a half hours, two hundred and fifty of the worlds wealthiest and most influential people- with a few, carefully selected, interesting sorts thrown in for leavening - and their dates would be sipping thousand dollar a bottle champaigne with the Sultan of Brueni, the sponsor of the 250 exotic cars on display on the tenth level. His automobile collection was legendary and the best of it was theirs to wander through and look at up close and personal - no touching though please!

Tres D' Or

When Jason woke in his tub to the door chime, he found the tailor and a whole squadron of aides, all come to see to him. This included a barber who gave him - unless he objected - the shave of his life- soothing, refreshing and down right scar. The elderly man handled the long, lethally sharp razor- he'd stropped it for a good ten minutes while a steaming towel wrapped around Jasons face, almost putting him back to sleep - asw if he'd been doing it all his lie- and that he had.

Jason had a manicure, his nailes buffed to a natural shine, his hair styled impeccably and his new tuxedo waiting for him. Decorous black silk mens socks waited with the hand cobbled shoes - they fit perfectly.

The taior and company helped him into the tuxed, set the french cuffs on the shirt with discreetely elegant cufflinks, and offered him his choice from a number of cumberbunds.

The tuxedo was a classic Continental style tuxedo (http://noblehouse.us/images/tuxedo.jpg) with double pleated pants in a hand woven cashmere silk blend fabric of deepest blue black that draped beautifully and showed Jason's build off to the best advantage.

At roughly ten ten he found them all whisking out the door with pleased smiles on their faces "You do our work justice indeed. It's been a pleasure fitting you." The talior exclaimed pleasedly as they left a perfectly groomed and betuxed and bemused Jason.

Especially since they had initaiily assumed that 'of course he'd be going armed'. Tanaarans loved their guns as much as they did their horses and fast cars. It made him feel more than a little bit like James Bond...

Below in the martini bar that opened on to the Tres D' Or's spacious atrium lobby Chantal waited in a all but translucent, nearly backless (http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/0bAg2d87quaQ9/340x.jpg) matte platinum silk gown adorned with thousands of minute black and aurora Swarovski crystals (http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/06zR4R5fVffSN/340x.jpg) accented with beads of platinum and black titanium. The jewelry she wore was minimal, a pair of exquisite shouder duster earings with matching bracelets and ring in the same rajistan pattern as the beading on her gown.

TMZIA, 10th Level
The armed guards still kept all from entering. Behind the satin ropes glimpses of exquisite automobiles could be faintly seen, but mostly it was shadow and would be until just minutes before eleven pm. The carpet was hand loomed silk in ebony with a cream border, sent from the Patron's private mill. The walls and windows were hidden behind drapes of flowing slike also in ebony and ivory as were the table linens. The the floral arrangements were cream hued roses, with the most subtle of scents set in priceless heriloom porcelean of ivory and ebony.

There was nothin that would be allowed to distract from the gleaming objects of the coach builders art. The Patron wanted nothing more eye catching than the pride of his immense collection - all two hundred and fifty examples - he owned over five thousand cars, but these were the jewels....

A McLaren F1 ( he has 8); a Dauer 962 LM (one of 6); the only right hand drive Mercedes CLK-GTR in the world; a Jaguar XJR-15 (he has 2); a Porsche 959; a Cizeta V16Ts (out of 3); a Lamborghini Diablo Jota ...

A trio of Ferrari 456 GT's variants - a long wheelbase 4-door saloon version, a convertible and even an estate version;

A Bentley Java and a Pininfarina's Ferrari Mythos - built just for the Patron aswell as Porsche's Leman's winning 962 - street legal variant.

A Ferrari FX. This is a supercar based on F512M but enclosed with an adventurous-looking body and a button-shift semi-automatic developed by Prodrive, much earlier than the F355 F1. He has six such, but only sent one over for display.

A 542 hp, twin-turbo Rolls Royce; a Bentley incorporating Range Rover's 4x4 system called Dominator; a Merrcedes 300SL based on today's 500SL but installed with AMG-enhanced 6.0 V8.

A Ferrari Venice in convertible, coupe and saloon versions; one off Astin Martin AM2's; Rolls Royce's with special "Sultan spec'" engines. Reliable sources speak of a twin turbocharger set-up and a series of internal mods that deliver a peak torque figure of 712lb ft at 2400rpm and 542bhp at 4500rpm.

Attendants had put the finishing touches on the gleamingcoach work with show wax that cost over three hundred dollars an ounce and there was a minimum of ten layers ...

There would be custon made jewelry showing up this night, adorning the necks, ears, and hands of some of the wealithest and most powerful people on the planet that had cost less than the wax used to maintain the showcased objects de art that the Patron called his play toys...

Lance nodded to Rowan as she departed the room. He finished his coffee and looked for the sink, finding a small one nearby. Placing it inside after rinsing it out, he turned back to the others.

"I should get going myself. Need some sleep eye." he stated, making his way to the doorway. He was tired still, and unsure just what his son and his friend were doing. He however, didn't care too much. They could take care of themselves.

He gave them a slight wave as he walked out the door, "Thanks for the coffee."

Making his way out to the main entrance of the hospital, he was pleased to see a cab idling not too far away. Tapping the roof with his hand, he leaned into the passenger window, "You on?"

"Yeah man, hop in."

Seconds later, the car was rolling.

Tres D' Or

When Jason woke in his tub to the door chime, he found the tailor and a whole squadron of aides, all come to see to him. This included a barber who gave him - unless he objected - the shave of his life- soothing, refreshing and down right scar. The elderly man handled the long, lethally sharp razor- he'd stropped it for a good ten minutes while a steaming towel wrapped around Jasons face, almost putting him back to sleep - asw if he'd been doing it all his lie- and that he had.

Jason had a manicure, his nailes buffed to a natural shine, his hair styled impeccably and his new tuxedo waiting for him. Decorous black silk mens socks waited with the hand cobbled shoes - they fit perfectly.

The taior and company helped him into the tuxed, set the french cuffs on the shirt with discreetely elegant cufflinks, and offered him his choice from a number of cumberbunds.

The tuxedo was a classic Continental style tuxedo (http://noblehouse.us/images/tuxedo.jpg) with double pleated pants in a hand woven cashmere silk blend fabric of deepest blue black that draped beautifully and showed Jason's build off to the best advantage.

At roughly ten ten he found them all whisking out the door with pleased smiles on their faces "You do our work justice indeed. It's been a pleasure fitting you." The talior exclaimed pleasedly as they left a perfectly groomed and betuxed and bemused Jason.

Especially since they had initaiily assumed that 'of course he'd be going armed'. Tanaarans loved their guns as much as they did their horses and fast cars. It made him feel more than a little bit like James Bond...

Below in the martini bar that opened on to the Tres D' Or's spacious atrium lobby Chantal waited in a all but translucent, nearly backless (http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/0bAg2d87quaQ9/340x.jpg) matte platinum silk gown adorned with thousands of minute black and aurora Swarovski crystals (http://cache.daylife.com/imageserve/06zR4R5fVffSN/340x.jpg) accented with beads of platinum and black titanium. The jewelry she wore was minimal, a pair of exquisite shouder duster earings with matching bracelets and ring in the same rajistan pattern as the beading on her gown.

"Oh, ****, I've dozed off... and It's 9:30... ****" he said to himself...

"Just a moment." he said before pulling some clothes out of the drawer and hurridly put them on, it took him just over half a second, to get roughly dressed without shoes and socks on but they didn't matter. He'd only have to take them off again.

As he opened the door he was almost swept away by tide of attendents... He was so confused but soon relaxed and let them do their job, somehow their touch was comforting, which was quite unusual. He barely even raised an eyebrow at the manicure, something which he would never normally do, but still he didn't quite expect so much attention. A few moments he looked at himself in the mirror inside his sweet, "Wow, I'm a stunner in this tux."

He checked his watch to see the time... 10:11, he didn't have mch time to daly, the limosine was going to pick them up at a quarter past... quickly but carefully descended the stairs to find Chantal there waiting for him. In the dress, she was an absolute stunner and looked like she was going to be on the red carpet for some major awards show. "Wow, you look absolutely... Actually, I don't think there is a word to describe how gorgeous you look." It was said with absolute sincerity. This surely would be a night that he would not forget.

Tanaaran Automotive Consortium

"Where's the fun in going in a straight line?"

Gwenn laughed. "No where as far as I know!" She loved driving on Tanaaras multilanes when she needed to be some place in a hurrty, but just for the pleasure of driving she wanted twisties. She settled back comfortably and watched Fred enjoy himself. The scenery wasn't bad either. The islands were a mix of tropical and temertate with rich volcanic soil that made the trees and brilliant flowering plants grow profusely.

The Austral was a pleasure to drive. It wasn't a super car, but it had as much sport in its pedigree as luxury and embodied the best of both, or so she felt. There was plenty of pick up and go and ket showed no signs of wanting to let loose the road. It let you push the envelope with out feeling like the glue wsa going to give way at any moment. It had plenty in reserve.

Fred opened it up and throttled it back from the corners, the sights and the responsiveness of the car made it all the more enjoyable. Socking up the internal and external atmosphere the car seemed to have your comfort in mind, while not being pretencious. It didn't command anything of the driver... "You must drive me faster." which certainly impressed Frederick. All he knew for know was that he was driving faster on a public road than he ever had before and he was loving it.

Ryan enjoyed the dance, most likely less than he would have had they been alone. However, he was far from the one to turn down hosting a party, and held Charli close as they danced.

It had been just over an hour when they slid off the floor and off to the bar again, and this time Ryan went for fun over class. "Jameson, on the rocks. Big glass."

The bar tender complied, and prepared Charli's ordered drink as well.

Is Hoot here some place Ryan? I didn't really get a chance to say hi to him earlier

"Yeah," Ryan responded, taking a long pull from the tall glass. It burned fierce on the way down, but the taste was perfect, and he snatched a lime off the bar to mix it just a tip. "He's around here somewhere, not sure where though."
___

The BNR-34 GTR (http://www.jetspeed.com.au/catalog/images/aero34.jpg) rolled to a stop just next to the valet booth, burbling softly. Some considered the look of the car tacky, but a true enthusiast would know every single piece of body work was 100% functional. And each was needed, the motor putting well north of a four digit number at all four wheels.

The vinyls had been done in the preferred Japanese style: simple, elegant, read left to right as normal on the right side driver's door, reversed right to left on the passenger's side. Despite the paint job, vinyls, and body kit, the car oozed an air of class and desire. It begged to be looked at, admired, and taken in awe.

It didn't so much as stop as it did float to the point of no forward movement, idling oddly quietly for such a powerful car. The door clicked open, and David Harlan slid out. The four point belts had done little to mess the five button Neru jacket tuxedo, which wasn't exactly a rental. Nor was it cheap. He had spent just over a twenty thousand on it, a well cut and fitted heavy silk coat and pants of dark black, with a matching pure silk black shirt. David despised bow ties, so at the time of the fitting, he had selected a Bellagio vest all of two shades lighter than the shirt and coat, giving a sort of ghost like presence. The long tie was a deep crimson, almost blood red, with a reflective quality to it.

The watch was a further custom piece, having cost much to the point where David had hardly even noticed it. Of course, it had been given as a gift more than anything, a show of thanks, and part of a payment, for the end result of a twin turbo charged Ferrari Enzo Ferrari.

Cuff links for the shirt were sterling silver, and inlaid with carbon fiber. It was a sort of tuners touch, something slightly different from the norm, but classy and unique in its own sort of way.

He tossed the keys to the valet, who would find the Skyline amazingly easy to drive. Comfortable micro suede Corbeau seats in two tone black and matted gold matched the exterior paint, and the doors and dash were trimmed very strategically with carbon fiber. The clutch was just light enough to be easy to operate, but stiff enough to feel out for engagement with out tearing into all four tires. Inside, it was strangely quiet, an odd feeling as over twelve hundred horsepower sat no more than five feet from the valet's head.

David made the tip hand off expertly, two hundred in the local currency from a gold money clip, inlaid with individual shark's teeth in a decorative pattern, with the NIAS emblem inlaid on the opposite side, in diamonds. Over the top? Maybe. Expensive? That was the point.

He made his way into the convention center, and followed the laid out route towards the Sultan's banquet.

TMZIA

The vallet parking on the west side of east wing second level, but Harlan didn't see many other arrivals. But then again most of the other invitees were ridng in the specially provided limmos...

"Sir, this way please." The man looked up from his digital clipboard, one hand pressed lightly against the earpiece in his left ear as he flagged David Harlan down. "They are allowing guests only up the east elevators." The man wore a formal coats and a discrete shoulder holster "May I see your invitation sir?" He held a scanner wand at the ready. Not a metal detector but a sophisticated reader that would instantly scan the encoded disc embedded in the thick,near cardboard paper of the formal engraved invitation.

He took the invitation scanned it, scrolled down the digital clipboard, noted whom the invitation had been issued to and gave the Imitoran a small,coldly polite smile. "You are one of the first ones here sir, just go to that bank of elevators there" He indicated a quartet of elevators some thirty feet away. "Those will take you directly up."

And so they did, depositing the Imitoran directly into an uncarpeted elevator lobby which smelled faintly of wilted produce and had no other exits save a locked lift gate to his right and a pair of broad swinging doors to his left. There was plently of noise though those swinging doors however.

Tres D'Or

"Wow, you look absolutely... Actually, I don't think there is a word to describe how gorgeous you look."

Chantal's dimples flashed as she smiled, delighted with the sweet sincerity of his compliment. "Why thank you Jason. You look fabulous yourself. Would you care for a martini? We have a few minutes before the limmo arrives" She directed his attention to a bell man keeping watch at the door. "He's been assigned to watch and advise us when the driver arrives"
She pulled out the formal invitation and let him read it over as she waited for a refill on the martini she had been sipping on. The thick engraved plackard advised, in small script at the bottom that the art displays were not to be touched.

"I was advised on the quiet that the Sultan is very sensitive about that and to be very carefull. Word is is that every one has been warned about this foibile." She made a face and shook her head. "I don't see why, it's not like he can't afford to buy all the show wax he needs, and hires nearly anyone to polish them properly"

Harlan ignored the slight of being funneled in through the kitchen. All it said to him was the security was far too low rent to really secure the building, so in order to protect the guests, they moved into the building in off ways. It wouldn't have happened that way in Imitora, but then again, it really didn't matter. David was used to dealing with people who thought they had money. And as far as he was concerned, the guard was stuck looking at placards for invites and most likely going home in a Camry.

He pushed his way through the kitchen, shrugging off any looks for not wearing a real tux, though that was the Imitoran way. He wasn't going to look like everyone else, and just be another face in the crowd. Imitorans liked to stand out, be seen and he did just that.

Guests were slowly starting to come in, no one he recognized, but were, in their respective locals, worth something. It was all relative. Harlan had the money to play with the big players, and the smarts to do it, as well. Not just any idiot could get lucky to the tune of a twenty five to thirty million a year from the stock market. Then there was the majority owner of the second largest uranium mine and processing facility in Imitora, and full ownership of the third largest. And sitting on the board of directors at IMI was another nice treat.

NIAS was, in all reality, a cash source. His own personal bank. The shop brought in a net profit in the hundred thousand range, and that was to be expected. They were the largest in Imitora, and pure focus on exotic cars meant the money was good. It wasn't odd to go in on any given day and see a line of Pasta Rockets and 'Bahn Bombers lined up, getting fitted with after market goodies that cost more than most cars. The two least expensive cars at any given time was David's own Skyline, and a reoccurring Honda NSX-R. NIAS also sponsored a fair share of Imitoran racing teams in the NASA and SCCR branches, so advertising was free.

A few night clubs rounded out the cash cow, which were more or less just their for his own purposes. Nothing more than a group of play grounds. All said and done, he had plenty of money to be in the crowd. Add to that he was Imitoran, and could snob with the best of them, he was a decent package for the night.

Exiting the kitchen with a group of other party goers who were statesmen from some country not his own, he carried himself with full confidence and pride, exuding the "your god damned right I belong here" attitude, and moving with a fluid grace that would never suggest to anyone what occupation he chose to entertain himself with. He waved off a glass of champagne, he wasn't much in the mood for it, and instead took a true martini. Gin, not Vodka, stirred well, with an extra olive.

Taking his drink, he made his way over to an exemplary specimen from the stable of Prancing Horses, his personal favorite make. They were his personal favorites, and was a proud owner of one of the thirty nine 250GTOs and an F430 Scuderia which he regulated for track duty. While the Ferraris may not have been as fast as say the Paganis* or wildly fun as the Lamborghinis, they had a certain class and distinction about them that not even the storied British Ultra Luxes could match. He was leaning in close enough to observe the finer details, while giving the vehicle plenty of room.

What Harlan had not realised yet was that the Tenth floor hadn't been officiallopened yet, only dignitaries were supposed to be admitted, the rest were still being held out in the most elegantly decorateded antechamber, despite the chamber orchestra and the waiters circulating with fine champaigne, but it was still a foyer.

"So you like my wind racers, ah?" The voice ws educated, with british over tones to a very odd accent, that ever so slightly - perhaps almost deliberately mangling the English it spoke. The speaker was a short, slight statured man in enveloping robes and headress of gold (http://images.encarta.msn.com/xrefmedia/sharemed/targets/images/pho/t029/t029406a.jpg)- real cloth of gold enlivened with more than just a few medals and a black handled not so cerimonial knife stuck through the wide waist sash.

"Your Excellency might I make known to you Mister David Harlan of Imitora. He owns Northampton Import Automotive Specialists" A cool feminine voice, that of the woman at the Sultan's elbow made the introduction as storm blue eyes cooly assessed the Imitoran- an old player in the game looking over a newcomer. HM Queen Mercedez Merideath Hexx (http://www.atddm.com/TanRoy.htm) was the wealthiest woman in Tanaara - the Hexx family had had money - were Money - since well before Tanaara's founding. Very few outside Tanaara had any inkling how much the Hexx family was worth - they spent good money keeping it that way, their staff doing a far better job than most of those who tried for such anonymity. However she was not yet in the Sultan's league, but theirs was a friendship based on something that transcended mere wealth. Her fifteen odd billion to his now scandously low twenty two billion.

Her blush hued gown of Noil silk with its discrete beading of pink and gold natural seed pearls and heavy 18 carat gold bullion embroidery alone was worth more than everything Harlan wore put together. A delicate antique tiarra (http://www.atddm.com/tiara1.jpg) she wore of rose gold and diamonds gleamed softly against the soft gold of her upswept hair do and a historically famous pigeon blood ruby and diamond necklace (http://www.royal-magazin.de/india/rubin-collier-nawanagar.htm) by Catrier gleamed at her throat. The necklace alone had cost over one and a half million dollars and had been a recent present from her son Crown Prince Robert Fortier- Hexx who stood on her other side looking on with interested eyes that gave little away.

"Ah I have heard of a new player, perhaps you are he?" For the Sultan there were no secrets in that arena of the racing game.

Harlan bowed appropriately, and then returned to his full posture, and then offered his hand for a shake.

"Your Excellency, its my pleasure to be here, and I must thank you for the invitation. You could indeed say, on the far more international scene, that yes, I am indeed a new comer. My shop is fairly moderate really, but we have a few very high power builds. I spent my formative years in Tokyo, working with Smokey Nagata and Michizo Niikura. I like to carry on their work with our shop. Power is amazing, yes. But as they say, power without control is nothing. We like to keep some refinement with our builds."

David offered a slight, yet clear, nod of recognition and partial thanks to the Queen. He angled himself so that he was turned partially towards the Sultan, and partially towards the Ferrari, creating a more open air between them, but still offering a slight yield to the Sultan.

"And your collection is amazing. I've always appreciated the Ferraris, though. There is just something inherently classy about them, something special. Its always nice to see some of the rarest super exotics, but being around a proper Ferrari is much more than just seeing. You can feel it."

And your collection is amazing. I've always appreciated the Ferraris, though. There is just something inherently classy about them, something special. Its always nice to see some of the rarest super exotics, but being around a proper Ferrari is much more than just seeing. You can feel it."

"You had better be glad, Mister Harlan, that I don't have my falcon with me or you might be spending dinner standing with one weighing down wrist" The Sultan smiled unexpectedly. "But fortunately mine doesn't travel well, so I declined to bring him. And besides he likes Mercy better than he likes me."

Mercy grinned at the Sultan "Oh, you flatter me." but her eyes twinkled - she liked the falcon, and was a falconer herself.

"Of course I do. If you weren't blonde, a queen already, and an infidel, I'd find a way to get you to marry me." He complimented her gallantly, but there ws more than a bit truth ringing in his words.

He turned his attention back to Harlan "And yes Power is something to be cherished and never abused." This from a man many accused, and with some correctness, of abusing power on a near daily bases - he had been accused of sexual assault and sex slavery in 1997, by former Miss USA Shannon Marketic... "and indeed power without control is nothing. It is a hard thing for many people to understand" He began wandering through the dispalyed vehicles, motioning the small goup to follow him. "Watch the other guests when they cone in. Look at what the women on the men's arm's. Yes there are a few women who recieved invitations on their own, but the vast majority did not. Then tell me if you can if the man has true power and true control." He looked over at Mercy and Rob and winked "You can't tell with Robert here, his lady iwas unable to come, but then again she is the Emperess of Tarlachia, and thus shows Rob's taste in women is equisite."

Robert just grinned and shook his head at the Sultans gentle jibe, refusing to rise to it. "I consider myself lucky that she returns my feelings for her. One lady is enough for me, I fall far short of your prowess" He looked over where one of their security was discretely signalling him and excused himself from the group.

"So Whilel we wait, David, tell me about your reasons for going after the Le Mans."

David offered a half nod. "I tend not to have to many female hanger ons, I'm not one who gives into relationships much. They always want you to change and spend to much time with them. Do this for me, go here with me, I wanna go see this movie, I want to do this for vacation. It gets to annoying at times, and it seems that the old thought of the male being in charge has moved away now, and its supposed to be a partnership or something. I seem to find that the no strings attached approach works fine enough for myself."

He paused a moment to take a pull from the martini. "Its also been said that, on a relationship level, most women not from Imitora have problems with staying with Imitoran men. Most of us have our lives planned out as we see fit, and once we make that choice, we aren't open to much change. We tend not to settle down well, as Mercedez here can tell you. We are only happy, as the saying goes, when we are at Mach one with our hair on fire."

So while we wait, David, tell me about your reasons for going after the Le Mans.

"Ah, I see you really do know your guests," he chuckled. "I'll be officially unveiling the car tomorrow, some time around noon. My shop is doing well dominating the streets, but I've found it getting to the point where we need to step up to the competition. We have plenty of cars racing in the lower levels, and a few direct sponsorships in Formula 1 with Mercedes Mclaren. Though after this season's faux pas on their part, we may be entering into talks with Renault or Ferrari." What David didn't add is that he felt the only thing VMM had done wrong was get caught.

"But we had to ask ourselves, why settle for the SCCI and ISA camps? Why not race where it really counts, and in the most prestigious class at that? In our own fashion, it was go big or don't play, and so we picked Le Mans. If nothing else, it would show not only our true dedication to the sport, but our willingness to go all out for the prestige of victory."

"Wow, you look absolutely... Actually, I don't think there is a word to describe how gorgeous you look."

Chantal's dimples flashed as she smiled, delighted with the sweet sincerity of his compliment. "Why thank you Jason. You look fabulous yourself. Would you care for a martini? We have a few minutes before the limmo arrives" She directed his attention to a bell man keeping watch at the door. "He's been assigned to watch and advise us when the driver arrives"
She pulled out the formal invitation and let him read it over as she waited for a refill on the martini she had been sipping on. The thick engraved plackard advised, in small script at the bottom that the art displays were not to be touched.

"I was advised on the quiet that the Sultan is very sensitive about that and to be very carefull. Word is is that every one has been warned about this foibile." She made a face and shook her head. "I don't see why, it's not like he can't afford to buy all the show wax he needs, and hires nearly anyone to polish them properly"

"Yeah, why not... A Martini it is." Jason said as he read the card noticing the feel of it in his hands.

"Hehe, well that's nothing, I once knew a man that was so careful about his care no one else could touch it. Of course it was never used an in my opinion a total waste, so I don't think it has to do with the money, but that just allows you to do it with more extravengent things."

"I have to admit it's more of a bloke trait, being protective of the things under his care in that manner, perhaps like a father protecting his daughter from a prospective date."

Though after this season's faux pas on their part, we may be entering into talks with Renault or Ferrari."

"David, when it comes to racing on that level there is nothing that I am not privy to. But I must let you know if you prove dangerous there are thsoe out there far less generous than I. And agreed Mclaren made a terrible mistake" The Sultan felt the same as David did, but like the other man did not mention it. However the two seemed to understand each other well.

"The quest for excellence and domination can have a much higher price than merely money." The Sultan looked over as the Robert rejoined them and bent over to whisper in his mothers ear, to Mercedez who nodded slightly in return.

"Your Excellencey it is time to form the recieving line. David, would you care to be part of the line?" Mercedez asked unsure if he wanted to partake of what could be very onerous duty that would end with sore feet and a hand that would be bruised from too vigerous shakes - Even at this caliber of event there were still those that believe that maleness was affirmed by the bone crushingness of their hand shake. The Sultan was protected from this, none would dare reach for his hand - he would offer it to those he deemed worthy. However to be asked to be part of a recieving line was a signal honor - far greater that Davids nominal status would imply. However Mercy was an astute judge and she could tell that the Sultan, the Guest of Honor, liked the brash young Imitoran. And he had made a better impression upon her that she had expected.

His dossier had contained some less than savory information, but if she was blunt about it, none of those who had recieved invitations were lilly pure.

The car for hire that Lance had found wwsn't really a taxi, there wasn't a taxi company as of yet in TMZ, but this was one of the vehicles that the government sponsored that did much the same thing as a taxi did. Once the driver had determined the drop point- she showed Lance the notice on his clip board that advised the driver to get Lances name and Expo badge number for automatic renumeration from the TMZ government.

Quickly she headed toward the island that held the new airport, and the hotel Lance was staying at -the Tres D' Or. Traffic was light and moving well.

The quiet - the driver seemed disinclined to talk - was soothing and Lance could easily fall asleep if he so chose..and he did, but the sleep was light...

How ever his eyes were jarred open when the driver cursed and stomped hard on her breaks. "That idiot!"

The broad six lane road way was hidden beneath a snarl of large colorful floats that seemed to be celebrating the American Mardi Gras. None of the floats were moving, indeed a couple seemed to have been mashed together. They were surrounded by many revellers, as many of whom were as close to naked as there were still dresed. They were climbing up on the floats and snatching handfulls of brightly colored beads and then jumping recklessly back off the floats.

What had had the driver calling some one an idiot seemed to be the young man standing in a convertible - also stopped by the accident, the driver of which was shouting at the man as he emptied a lage paper cup of something all over her. As Lance watched, the man - shirtless and decorated with some sort of paint across his chest - leapt from the convertible holding a woman's purse.

Tres D' Or

I have to admit it's more of a bloke trait, being protective of the things under his care in that manner, perhaps like a father protecting his daughter from a prospective date."

Chantal chuckled as she sipped her martini "My father never did anything like that. But then again he was never around to do so. Always off managing his corporate holdings, but then again he isn't as wealthy as the Sultan is." She said lightly as she looked about at the expo participants who hadn't been granted one of the two hundred and fifty special invitations and were heading to mearly extravagant, but plebian banquets being herld in the five star hotel's massive ballrooms. They might ahve more fun in the long run but she'd never been fond of mass affairs.

The bell boy caught her eye and she finished her drink "The limmo is here it seems" She waited for him to offer her his arm.

Lance cursed aloud as the sudden braking slammed him forward, only caught by the seatbelt he had remembered to put on earlier. His hands instinctively had gone forward to brace himself against the front seat.

He was about to berate the woman for her horrible driving when he saw what she was looking at. A man, clearly a thief had taken advantage of the chaos up ahead to remove someone's purse from their open convertible. The man also had fled back to where traffic was less snarled. Clearly, the man had some sort of plan in mind.

Murphy's Law however had another plan in place, its gears already rolling full steam.

There was a sudden crunch of a human body being met forcefully with a metal car door. The glass shattered upon impact, and the man let out a surprised oof and collapsed to the ground groaning.

Lance emerged from the car, his face stern as he approached warily and placed a heavy foot against the man's esophagus. His other leg was positioned to provide Lance with more leverage and balance should the man try to fight him off. He struggled naturally, but Lance's voice stopped him cold after a moment, "Don't make me turn you into a eunuch asshole." The thief's wide, wild eyes looked up at his new foe with sudden fear. His focus then moved to something that caught the reflection of the lights surrounding them, a simple, somewhat stylistic switch blade (http://www.danielwiener.com/daniel/tips/archives/tools/knives/switchblade.jpg) held firmly in Lance's right hand.

He promptly ceased his struggle, and Lance kept his foot on the man's throat while he retrieved the bag from the ground. He tossed it to the driver who had emerged and had also produced a gun from somewhere.

He looked back at the man, frowning as he spoke, "You don't exactly seem like the type to favor-" he looked up at the driver who clued him in by stating the brand name; Coach; "Coach handbags that are probably ridiculously overpriced and yet could still garner a good profit for a successful thief."

He looked up to the convertible to see a woman having stumbled out, wiping her eyes furiously and looking about in every direction. His breath inhaled audibly as he recognized the furious woman.

To the thief he just shook his head, "You shouldn't have done that. Pettimores seem to have a grudge complex of the worst kind."

Lance gave him a sickening, malicious smile as he called out the woman's name loud enough for several people around them to hear and turn his direction. "ROWAN PETTIMORE!"

He looked up to Rowan who spun about to the sound of his voice, "Drop something?"

"ROWAN PETTIMORE!"

Drop something?"

She brushed sodden blonde hair out of her face and nodded as she strode fiercely toward Lance and his captive. "Oh yes I so very much did. And thank you for finding it." The look on her face promised all sorts of evil for the drunk youngster on the ground.

"Oh let him up Lance. He's not going to go any were, are you?" Her vocie was a purr as she accepted the bag back from the corporal with a soft "thank you"

However it was going to be hard to get an answer from the wentysomething, he'd passed out.

"Oh hell Lance we need to get him on his side so he doesn' choke on his own vomit."With a growl Rowan went to her knees, waiting for Lance to remove his foot.

Lance glanced down at the thief now unconscious under his foot. He muttered something to himself as he removed his foot and instead delivered it broadside with some force into the man's backside as Rowan turned him onto his side.

"You ain't passing out on us just yet buddy." Lance called out as he took a step back to let Rowan have her way with him.

The man groaned, yet his eyes remained closed. "Perhaps another kick will do the trick." Lance suggested almost nonchalantly.

Rowan gave Lance a look. "Even unconscious people groan. Oh and by the way Willow specializes in SAR and I do volunteer work with the Johnson County Volunteer EMT. We're too small to have our own ambulance and such." She was expertly taking the man's pulse having placed him in the proper 'recovery position' as it was known.

Then the man stiffened and his body wrenched into a fetal postion as he began vomiting violently "No keep on your side or you'll aspirate damnit" She snapped.

"Lance, call for an ambulance, he's got blood in that purge." She sighed fiercely and muttered something about just wanting to grab some shut eye.

Tres D' Or

I have to admit it's more of a bloke trait, being protective of the things under his care in that manner, perhaps like a father protecting his daughter from a prospective date."

Chantal chuckled as she sipped her martini "My father never did anything like that. But then again he was never around to do so. Always off managing his corporate holdings, but then again he isn't as wealthy as the Sultan is." She said lightly as she looked about at the expo participants who hadn't been granted one of the two hundred and fifty special invitations and were heading to mearly extravagant, but plebian banquets being herld in the five star hotel's massive ballrooms. They might ahve more fun in the long run but she'd never been fond of mass affairs.

The bell boy caught her eye and she finished her drink "The limmo is here it seems" She waited for him to offer her his arm.

"Alright, may I escort you to the car?" Jason spoke bowing to Chantal, before offering up his hand. He may be in the racing world but it just somehow seemed the best thing to do.

Chantal took his hand and rose gracefully. Once standing she took the properly prooffered arm, tucking hers in the crook of his elbow, her hand lightly resting atop his forearm. Her twinkling eyes let Jason know that she appreciated his courtesy and would makie the most of the grand manner it afforded. The couple swirled out through the lobby - with many a double take of on lookers and no few looks of absolute envy.

One of the Sultans many Rolls waited for them, a uniformed chauffeur holding the rear passenger door open. After making sure the couple were seated comfortably he started the vehicle and drove then with sedate aplomb to the special arrival area that had ben roped off where upon a liveried doorman assissted them in disembarking.

Unobtrusively security validated their invitation and they were whisked up to a foyer decorated as an arabian nights fantasy, where many of the other 'pretty people' had arrived - or were arriving much at the same time as Jason and Chantal. Waiters dressed as upscale Forty Theives circulated with trays of a fine champaign in crystal flutes. Music was from a live ensemble and was just audible over the hum of conversation.

"So who are you most interested in meeting? The Americans and Europe are holding court already I see" Chantal whispered as she discretely pointed out important groups. "The Japanese being snooty as ever" She indicated a small group that obviously represented the 'Big Threat" "Hmmm and the Brits are making their own stand. Aston Martin and Rolls both look very glum. I think the rumor is true then."

Gibson Hotel Penthouse

"He's around here somewhere, not sure where though."

The dancing had been wonderful, being in Ryan's arms again after so long away had ben even better. She kissed him on the cheek and let him know that she was going to go look for Hoot.

She wandered thought the sprawling top floor, finally finding him sitting quietly in the library a half finished glass of somthing next to him.

"I'm not intruding am I?" She asked him. She was going to ask him why he'd been at the hospital. Charli knew that he'd gotten to know the Pettimores during tha LD 50 Incident but she had been no where near the areas of the world that had been heavily affected by the virus. Curious,too, as to what he thought of the Pettimores. They were not the sort of people most had - or wanted - as friends, but then again she wasn't either.

Rowan gave Lance a look. "Even unconscious people groan. Oh and by the way Willow specializes in SAR and I do volunteer work with the Johnson County Volunteer EMT. We're too small to have our own ambulance and such." She was expertly taking the man's pulse having placed him in the proper 'recovery position' as it was known.

Then the man stiffened and his body wrenched into a fetal postion as he began vomiting violently "No keep on your side or you'll aspirate damnit" She snapped.

"Lance, call for an ambulance, he's got blood in that purge." She sighed fiercely and muttered something about just wanting to grab some shut eye.

Lance just growled inwardly. He didn't give a damn about the man. "Leave him. He deserves it. He'll be fine. Humans are more resilient than you're giving them credit for."

He turned to walk back to the driver, indicating with a hand that they leave, "If you must call for aid, do it. But then leave him. They'll be here quickly enough." He turned and a nearby light made his eyes blaze in the darkness of the wee hours of the morning, "Don't waste any more of your sleep time on him. He'd have done the same."

"Don't waste any more of your sleep time on him. He'd have done the same."

Rowan looked up at Lance and her eyes were cold and dismissive 'Whatever Mr. Freeman. You go on, have a nice day now." Looking away from him she looked at the corporal who had been driving the car.

The corporal nodded, indicating the cell phone in her had. "I made that call," She informed Roawan then turned back to Lance

The "but Mister, I can't leave. The road is blocked and the hotel is less than a hundred feet up the road. I'm sorry but you'll just have to walk from here."

Rowan nodded briefly and turned her attention back to the man, ignoring Lance completely.

A jeep drove up loaded with more TMZ soldiers, and the Corporal took charge of them, as senoir service person in the group, setting them to first clearing away the drunken revellers.

David, would you care to be part of the line?

David nodded, politely. While no where near the strength of his counterpart from Psychosis, he had powerful enough triceps and well formed biceps that were capable of a good, strong grip.

"It would be my pleasure," he responded, simply.

He knew full well who Hexx and her son were, and would do well to keep a tab on both of them. He wouldn't put it past either to try and pull any stunts on NIAS, for the simplest fact of the not quite but close to hero worship his former "boss" received in certain nations.

But then again, with Ryan in nation, that meant he had two people he needed to watch out for. He knew from inside and reliable sources that the younger Fortier had come with a well built Supra, the Skyline's natural competitor. He would be damned to see it beat him in any contest, and hoped that they could recreate an Imitoran Fiver locally to settle any dispute.

"Please, lead the way."
___

Hoot looked up from the cell phone he had just deposited in his pocket, and took a long pull on his beer.

"Your boy out there might be a cover car here soon. One of the more international buff books saw that Poopra of his cruising around into the hotel, looking for references."

He chuckled, and collapsed into a chair. "I'm too old for this shit," he laughed, taking another long pull on the beer. "So how's life treating you? And I got a call from one of the Pettimore's. Told me to tell you to look out or something."

TMZIA, 10th Level

"Please, lead the way."

The unobtrosuively standing by major domo set everyone in place, after Mercy took a minute to introduce General Ian Hardcastle, Commander in Chief of The Militarized Zone, who had just this moment arrived and his daughter Captain Abigail Hardcastle, who was the Expo manager - the one Harlan had to thank for his invitation to the Exposition and this private event- to Harlan.

"General this is Mister David Harlan of NAIS, David this is General Ian Hardcastle, TMZ's Commander In Chief and his daughter Abagain Hardcastle. She's the one who pulled all of this together. And she hasn't had time for a breakdown yet."

The General gave him a polite but distracted nod, not rude but obviously preoccupied. His daughter gave him a glance then gave Halan a warmer welcome.

"I hope you are having a good time Mister Harlan and that the expo is everythig you hope it to be! ...No I get to have that after this, thank you Aunt Mercy!" The pretty blonde Captain replied with a flashing smile that made her eyes sparkle despiet the weariness that skillfull make up couldn't completely hide.

As always the lay out of the recieving line was the lesser lights first, Mr. David Harlan, and Captain Hardcastle, HRH Robert, then TMZ's XO- Admiral Thomasina Brightwater, then HM Queen Mercedez, the Guest of Honor, the Sultan and General Ian Hardcastle.

THe band struck up the livley TMZ national anthem and the satin ropes dividing the reception room from the antechamber were lowered and a stenorianed voiced Sargeant Major anounced that the reception line open.

Gibson Hotel Penthouse

"So how's life treating you? And I got a call from one of the Pettimore's. Told me to tell you to look out or something."

"You're never too old" She bluntly refused to believe that, but his next comment...

Charli slumped down in a chair and sighed her eyes drooping closed "Damnit! That last one was yet a attempt on me wasn't it?" She opened her eyes and looked at him "Please don't tell Ryan. I don't want to spoil the Expo for him."

She was eager to change the subject. "With all the cars at the Expo as awesome as his is, I'd almost not believe it, though it would be incredible and please him to no end." Charli laughed, excited at the thought of Ryan and one of his lil monstewrs on a cover. "Better him than me. He deserves it. The wretch even knew about the GNX. Some one spilled the beans, darn them."

"And hows life going? Other than the odd assassination attempt, and me being too cowardly to ask Ryan to marry me, and being unable to decide if I should start my own business or not...Doing just great! How is New Owl doing? I still want you to build me somthing in the way of a highway monster some day... and what do you think of the Pettimores?"

Chantal took his hand and rose gracefully. Once standing she took the properly prooffered arm, tucking hers in the crook of his elbow, her hand lightly resting atop his forearm. Her twinkling eyes let Jason know that she appreciated his courtesy and would makie the most of the grand manner it afforded. The couple swirled out through the lobby - with many a double take of on lookers and no few looks of absolute envy.

One of the Sultans many Rolls waited for them, a uniformed chauffeur holding the rear passenger door open. After making sure the couple were seated comfortably he started the vehicle and drove then with sedate aplomb to the special arrival area that had ben roped off where upon a liveried doorman assissted them in disembarking.

Unobtrusively security validated their invitation and they were whisked up to a foyer decorated as an arabian nights fantasy, where many of the other 'pretty people' had arrived - or were arriving much at the same time as Jason and Chantal. Waiters dressed as upscale Forty Theives circulated with trays of a fine champaign in crystal flutes. Music was from a live ensemble and was just audible over the hum of conversation.

"So who are you most interested in meeting? The Americans and Europe are holding court already I see" Chantal whispered as she discretely pointed out important groups. "The Japanese being snooty as ever" She indicated a small group that obviously represented the 'Big Threat" "Hmmm and the Brits are making their own stand. Aston Martin and Rolls both look very glum. I think the rumor is true then."

"101 Arabian Nights... never actually got around to reading it".. he quietly commented to Chantal... "What Rumor?"

TMZIA 10th level

"101 Arabian Nights... never actually got around to reading it ...What Rumor?"

Chantal laughed at the way Jason's ears sharpened at a Rumor Automotive "You must only know the partial version. It's a Thousand and one Nights...search out and read the Richard Burton - the explorer, not the movie star - version, it will curl your short hairs."

Then she took his hand and pulled him close, whispering carefully into his ear "Haven't you heard? The Sultan turned down their latest offering - He's tired of their triteness, he's going to shop elsewhere!"

That was sacndalous- the Sultan had almost single handedly kept the two British automotive icons afloat the last fifteen years or so. He regularly bought fifty to a hundred 'normal' Rolls and another fifty or so custom Roll's each year annd had done so each year since the late seventies.. And he single handedly had spent over the last ten years or so something on the order of one hundred million a year for Aston Martin one offs. Now he was disappointed in them and looking to take his extraordinarily deep pockets elsewhere. And even the thought of that was enought to induce suicidal thought in the stoic British firms.

A discrete fanfare sounded and with a calm, projected voice that carried to all clearly - the major domo announced "Please come and be made known to His Most Serene Excellency Hassanal Bolkiah Mu'izzaddin Waddaulah, the Sultan and Yang Di-Pertuan of Brunei Darussalam, GCB GCMG "

"Thats our cue" Chantal said in a low voice and began drifting- most purposefully towards the now lowered ropes "Oh damn it is true. Mercedez is the one who got that filthy rich little womaniser to come." She hissed it low in a voice that in no way carried past Jason's ears. For a split second she looked furious then the look was hidden behind a wide smile. "I'll have to introduce you to Mercy. We're such good freinds" That was a bare bones lie...

Hoot chuckled.

"Yeah. He only needs his ego stroked a bit more. All he needs to do is not blow anything up."

He took another pull from his drink, leaning against a book shelf. "Of course, he probably does deserve it. You know what he's playing in that Supra of his?"

Ryan had told Charli half of it. Single turbo conversion, and a built motor, but not the full story. Ryan had only told her about the lower end of the 1100 ponies around the crank.

"He's pushing some serious metal in it. Big ol' Garrett GT4480, bit of spray. Its wicked fast, saw it in action a few nights back. Pulled the piss out of a Lambo, broke the ass end loose at one twenty."

Hoot shrugged. "If your looking for a car, just come by and ask. I got some ideas floating around that I can handle."

He paused a bit longer, thinking of the more important questions. "Go ahead and start your own business. And wait for it. Don't ask him, let him ask you."
___

David greeted the TMZ representatives as warmly as they did him. Taking his respective place, he quickly did a brush over his coat, straighting it where it needed to be done.

He made sure he was standing at his full best, and settled in just where he needed to be. He had never quite done anything like this previously, so he made sure that every shake was a firm, but not challenging grip. If the grip he was meeting pushed beyond such a return, then years of regular and intensive weight lifting and physical training could meet with equal strength. He remembered well not to grip in the fingers, but from higher up in the triceps and biceps.

He smiled politely, but very careful eyes could tell that his smile held a bit of brag that he was "riding shotgun" with the Sultan.

Gibson Hotel Penthouse

"He's pushing some serious metal in it. Big ol' Garrett GT4480, bit of spray. Its wicked fast, saw it in action a few nights back. Pulled the piss out of a Lambo, broke the ass end loose at one twenty."


That brought a wicked grin. She was Ryan's biggest fan, and was so proud of his skill as a tuner and a racer. "I knew it would." She murmured to herself, but wondered why Ryan hadn't told her everything.

"If your looking for a car, just come by and ask. I got some ideas floating around that I can handle."

"Thanks I might, once I get some ideas more settled in" She thanked him. She was hoping to have some time someday to sit down with Ryan and discuss what might be best.

"Go ahead and start your own business. And wait for it. Don't ask him, let him ask you."


"I've go the financing arranged. And apparently during the time I didn't remember..." Charli was hesitatant there, she didn't speak of it much, especially not of how much that time had hurt and changed her irrevocably. There were times then she couldn't even talk to Ryan about, hurts and scars that she hid deep and hadn't truly dealt with. Part of her wanted a son or a daughter or maybe both, but she was desperately afraid that Ryan didn't.

"...I tucked away enough money in various places that the backing is just a extra safety cushion" Her smile left and her voice had a bitter tinge that she tried hard to hide "Wait?..."

She half shrugged, her voice going hard and angry "It's been over two years..." Forcibly she cut herself off and just continued it in her thoughts He's not going to ask me to marry him. The momentary anger faded from her voice and Charli was careful to smile serenely, but her eyes were sad and resigned. "Of course I'll wait" He knows there's no one else in the universe for me but him, so he doesn't have to bother making a committment. Her mind's voice was bitter but she strove not to let it show on her face.

Then she blushed, embarrassed by her momentary outburst "Sorry, just tired I guess" chastened at the though of any one seeing the fears and unhappiness that she took great pains to hide. She hadn't felt secure in a long time, continually afraid she would wake up and it would have all been a dream. Charli had no one to confide in, she didn't want to burden Ryan with her fears, and had no close friends in Imitora.

She hid the uncertainty and fear deeply behind a smile "So what do you think of the Pettimores?" Changing the subject...

TMZIA 10th Level


David could see that Captain Hardcastle had a very tiny earpiece and was being fed names but he could also see that she was remembering close to ninetyfive percent of them on her own as she greeted those who came down the line. And since the recieving line curved a bit he also managed to see HRH Robert stiffen slightly as a tall auburn haired beauty and her escort were announced.

"Good evening Baroness d' Racul, Chantal, and Mister Jason Atkinson of Bazalonia" Captain Hardcastle said as the lady and the gentleman stepped up to be greeted by David "might I introduce Mister David Harlan of Imitora"

Hoot nodded. "Let him ask on his own terms. By now you should know thats how us Imitoran men operate. We do something when we are good and ready, not before, not after. He ain't goin' any where, so you don't need to worry about it."

He had to take pause at her "your never to old" response. He was pushing sixty now, and the new generation of tuners and builders were taking their place. When he had started, eight hundred at the wheels was pushing the boundaries of sanity. Now, his competition was tossing around four digit claims like it was as easy as a week of work. The scary thing was, it was as easy as seven days. God created the universe in seven days, and these kids are building cars that have enough power to get it to spin the other way in the same amount of time. Hoot chuckled at the thought, and agreeably took the topic change.

"Well, their the Pettimores. You know them just as well as I do. Course, I heard about Ryan and Kelly's scuffle. I'll talk to Ryan, but DK is going to need to calm himself down as well. But then again, I saw the way Lance was acting, and I'd be more worried about him and Ryan bumping into each other. That could prove troublesome."
____

David took in a full look of both Chantal and Jason, as always both sizing them up, and watching them as a potential customer. "Baroness, Mister Atkinson, its a pleasure to meet you," he offered.

He could tell Chantal was wondering what put him in line, and it didn't bother him much that someone may be confused. Showing up fashionably late or on time would only take someone so far, often it helped to show up early. Topping it off, Imitorans had a way of talking their way into the better parts of the party. As far as Harlan was concerned, it didn't matter how much cash anyone at the party would throw around, they were all human, and they all put their car into gear the same way.

"Glad to see you here."

"Don't waste any more of your sleep time on him. He'd have done the same."

Rowan looked up at Lance and her eyes were cold and dismissive 'Whatever Mr. Freeman. You go on, have a nice day now." Looking away from him she looked at the corporal who had been driving the car.

The corporal nodded, indicating the cell phone in her had. "I made that call," She informed Roawan then turned back to Lance

The "but Mister, I can't leave. The road is blocked and the hotel is less than a hundred feet up the road. I'm sorry but you'll just have to walk from here."

Rowan nodded briefly and turned her attention back to the man, ignoring Lance completely.

A jeep drove up loaded with more TMZ soldiers, and the Corporal took charge of them, as senoir service person in the group, setting them to first clearing away the drunken revellers.

Lance growled again at the corporal, turning away to begin slipping through the crowds. As he walked, he sensed someone trying to pick his pocket. Turning abruptly, he drove an elbow into the man's chest, followed with a fist to the side of the head. The man crumpled to the ground unconscious, and Lance cursed aloud at him. People nearby had noticed, and gave him some space as he walked onward.

Before long, he had made his way into the hotel lobby and entered the elevator. He pressed the button for his floor and waited for the doors to close.

Rowan just shook her head and didn't bother to watch him leave. She'd come to the conclusion that Tarlachina's were assholes.

TMZ Trauma I

Back in the hospital Willow awoke suddenly , disoriented not knowing here she was, but half way figuring out she wasd in a hospital. "What? Damn, what happened?" she murmured, to fuzzy to think or say more. She raised her head off the flat piloow . It was a strain and it hurt more than she could bear almost. "Doesn't look like any hopsital I know... so where am I? Mountains my head hurts." Her eyes took in some keys? on the bedside table, but she couldn't quite be sure and she wasn't up to any real curiosity...her head dropped back down and she was asleep in seconds once again...

Gibson Hotel Penthouse

. I'll talk to Ryan, but DK is going to need to calm himself down as well. But then again, I saw the way Lance was acting, and I'd be more worried about him and Ryan bumping into each other. That could prove troublesome."

"David seems to fire up fast and calm down fast. Herll he and Ryan will probably be best buds in no time. In many ways they're a lot alike but not so alike as to be nervous making. I don't know Lance at all really, so I can't say what he and Ryan might rub on like." Charli found herself hiding a yawn behind her hand, and tiredness washing over her like a tidal wave - on top of the depression she'd tried to hide "Hmmm, you'll have to excuse me Hoot. I think I need to get some sleep. I'll see ya around the Expo. Maybe we can have lunch together or something." She excused herself and wandered out of the library, intent on finding Ryan to let him knew she was going off to bed. She hated sleeping without him, the nightmares ruined her sleep and left her crying more often than not.

TMZIA 10th Level

"Glad to see you here."

"So nice to meet you" Chantal cooed absentmindedly, most of her attention now focused on Mercy and the Sultan. The pair and the General were chuckling quietly over some comment a guest had made. Then she turned back slitly and addressed David Harlan directly "I just love the Dominator Rayn Fortier made for me. That means Psychosis will be in the running for aquiring the Sultans interest when he goes shopping next month. And I think Ryan is going to wipe you off the streets." Amber eyes looked him up and down once again and the smile on her lips was catty "Interesting choice of evening wear and Captain Hardcastle maybe you ought to get your father to let some one competent design your militarie's formal wear." With that she was sweeping Jason along past Rob and directly to Mercedez.

Harlan half sniggered as Chantal moved away. He spoke just loud enough for her to her. "Ah yes, the Dominator. The same one he would make for anyone else with the money? Hardly a special car. Why not the Elite model? Oh wait, thats right, the only two belong to him and a Miss Firewalker. To bad he wouldn't build a real custom, and instead stick you with the same car he builds for everyone else."

He put a tinge on the last words, as if making the one of twenty car seem like any Honda Civic or Toyota Camry on the road. "And did you hear?" he started with another guest, "that he's lifting the restriction, so now anyone with the money can purchase one? Its a shame, such an amazing car going to waste with his shop. Oh well. I have it on good authority that he'll be calling out a number of houses to race locally. I'll be sure to show him how to really build a fast car if he looks for me."

And with that, for now at least, David Harlan was done with Chantal D' Racul. Even if the woman turned to respond to him, it would fall on deaf ears as David turned to other guests, greeting them warmly, and chatting with them if they chose to do so.
____

Hmmm, you'll have to excuse me Hoot. I think I need to get some sleep. I'll see ya around the Expo. Maybe we can have lunch together or something.

Hoot said his good nights as she slipped out of the room. He was soon out as well, deciding to head back to his own room. He would want to get to the hospital in the later morning before moving on to the expo.

However, Ryan was in little mood to find his way to anything looking like a bed. Out in the main room, the music was still a tracny mix, but at the bar, it might as well have been a rousing set of Dropkick Murpheys, the half Irish Folk, half punk band. At the bar were three men, Ryan, Bendigo from Bat Shit Crazy, and a local tuner of sorts. And spread among the three of them were several empty pint glasses, with smaller shot glasses at the base.

They were damned near racing, Ryan leading the charge with a drop, a chug, and a slam. The bartender was churning out the mix as fast as he can. A shot of whiskey, floating on Bailey's Irish creme, dropped into a half pint of Guiness, then knocked back in one fell swoop.

Ryan and David looked no more worse for wear, though they would most likely be feeling it in the morning. However, the local's faced was flushed, he looked a bit dizzy, and was having a hard time keeping up.

Ryan caught Charli, and waved. "Want one babe?" he called out, before slamming back another of the volitile mix, spun the glass, and slammed it down upside down. In some countries, it mean "thats it, I'm done." In Australia, it meant "so whose ready to fight?", and in Imitora, it meant "I'll take another!"

Gibson Hotel Penthouse

"Want one babe?"

Charli joined them sliding an arm around Ryans waist and shuddering She loved Bailey's Irish Creme over Butter Pecan Icecram, but dropped into beer. She shuddered again "No thanks love. I'm heading for bed." She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then nuzzeling his ear. "Remember you got to look spruce for the grand opening" Charli whispered in his ear.

TMZIA 10th Level

Chantal paid David Harlan no mind. She had more important people to chat up.

"And did you hear? that he's lifting the restriction, so now anyone with the money can purchase one? Its a shame, such an amazing car going to waste with his shop. Oh well. I have it on good authority that he'll be calling out a number of houses to race locally. I'll be sure to show him how to really build a fast car if he looks for me."

\
The next guest in line, having no idea what the young oddly dressed man was speaking of merely gave him a hasty "Pleaed to meet you Capaint Hardcastle...Mister...oh yes Harlan. The Expo should be rousing good fun" He said quickly manuevering his wife along the line.

'Hey David, it's not kosher to draw outsiders into your little spats." Robert leaned behind the Captain and made sure that his whisper didn't carry past Harlan. "And to make it more fun, How about a little side bet. Fifty mil, pocket change. He's going to wipe the tarmac with your ass."

Harlan shrugged.

"I can do fifty. But how about we actually make it interesting. Say we toss in some paper. The slip of that Le Mans GT racer I have down stairs up against, say, the slip for that number that your father did up for your mother before he died. The Spellbreaker was it? Unless, of course, you aren't so sure."

Harlan turned back to another guest, greeting them properly, and engaging in just a second or so idle chat. He leaned back, and looked Rob square on. "What about it?"
___

Ryan kissed Charli on the cheek, wrapping his arm around her.

"Alright babe, just a few more than I'll be in. Promise. And I'll look fine tommorow, you can count on it."

He gave her another quick kiss, and then snapped up the pint glass, dropped the shot, and in just over a second the mix was gone. The bar tender was turning them out as fast as he could. By this point, the younger local was falling back, nursing a glass of water as he tried to gather his bearings. The contest had dropped to Ryan and the other Imitoran.

TMZ, TMZIA GRAND OPENING OF THE AUTOMOTIVE EXCELLENCE EXPOSITION.

Thousands of gaiily hued baloons streamed skyward as the main doors were thown open promptly at 9 a.m. and the first of tens thousands thundered in. Every hotel within two hours travel time had been filled to capacity by eager expo goers, and they all wanted to be among the first in. They also had money to spend and every shop that was selling anything would find their initial stocks nearly sold out by the end of the day. Bazalonia's Bazel Burgers were an outstanding hit, they could barely keep up with the demand.

The day was picture perfect. At noon it was seventy two degrees, less than twenty per cent humidity, and the expo was off to a rousing start, being covered by every tv crew that could get there, three doccumentry teams, over ten of the most prominent reporters in the automotive world.

Captain Abigail Hardcastle stood next to her craggy faced father General Ian Hardcastle and beamed with pride. "It's going to be a sucess!" She told him happily. The Militarized Zone had stepped up to the plate and seeme about to hit it's first home run.

The Tarlachian venue was quiet for a time, although from where he was standing, Lance could see the crowds approaching quickly, some lingering at other cars, some moving onto displays they had chosen quickly by scanning their brochure maps.

The boys were sitting in their respective chairs, placed strategically around the remaining two cars. There was a distinct absence of the third car, and to this spot, his son had constantly tried to get him to explain what had happened and to explain where the car was. Lance had quieted him with a look that his son knew meant that he shouldn't ask any more.

Walking away from the display a short distance, Lance retrieved a cell phone from a pocket. Already programmed into it, thanks to a discreet query to hotel staff, he had gotten the personal number to Rowan Pettimore's phone.

In his ear, he could hear the line ringing.

Fumble...one had wandering over the unfamiliar topography of a unfamiliar nightstand... fingers encountering hard plastic unexpectedly...

"Ouch!" and more words definietly unladylike, the hand clenches into a fist for a moment then resumes searching as a tousled haired head lifts from the pillow and eyes open slowly...

Suscess!

The phone is pulled towards an ear and a bleary mumble sounding something like "Row..."yawn' an"

Pulling the phone away to look at his connection strength, Lance returned it a moment later, "Rowan. It's Lance." he said, quickly adding in, "Look don't hang up. I just wanted to see how Willow is. Also, you're missing the expo."

He fell silent, thinking about what Rowan could have been possibly thinking about. He remained silent, giving her the chance to speak now.

"Lance Look don't hang up. I just wanted to see how Willow is. Also, you're missing the expo."

"Er..."Yawn... No I'm not who...who? Take me to bed this evening, when I'm outta call..." Rowan mumbled as she dropped the phone and burried her head under a pillow. She was back to sleep in seconds. She hadn't gotten to bed until dawn. She might remember the call in a few days...

OOC: Sorry for the lack of recent postage...

IC:

The Verona plot was quite busy, there was information packs, interactive simulations and number of demonstrations, some of the people where taking their time, Jason was there looking quite weary, he enjoyed himself last night made alot of contacts, some that could even involve business down the track. Chantal was a gorgeous and he hoped he hadn't done anything to offend or cause concern, but it had all gone in a bit of a blur. And now the onslaught of eager Car enthusiasts from all around the world. Some of these where Bazalonian perhaps just over 1000 Bazalonians in-total made the trip over the day.

"There's just so much to do... Where do you want to go first?" asked Herman Jones, who then almost immediately started munching on a BazaBurger Deluxe Salad Meal. "Hmm, Tasty."

"Hmm, well no point in going to Verona until they reveal their concept car.." retorted Luke, Herman's Brother.

"ooh, there's Bond Cars on the level below us, I want to go there."

"Typical did you see the Remake of Casino Royale? Personnaly I didn't like it, they should of used that Male 'M' for continuity."

"Though you have to admit Dame Judy Dench did play her part very well."

"Yeah whatever, let's just go okay."

Pressing through the crowd the 2 particular Bazalonians made their way down and towards the Bond cars, which if they remember correctly should be on their left.

(OOC: Actually it's to the right...)

TMZIA Expo, 1st Level east -Bond Cars Exhibit

Every Bond Girl that they could presuade to come - and give the depths of the pockets that were doing the asking a considerable number had agreed - was present on opening day but was carefully barriacaded off from the riff and raff - they were there to ba a panel of judges, taking a look at Bond Girl hopefulls. The winner might get offered a spot in the next Bond movie. The sixteen screen mulitplex was just opening with the first round of Bond films Dr. No, From Russia with Love, Goldfinger, ThunderBallYou Only Live Twice and [b]On Her Majesty's Secret Service show ing in two theaters each and the other eight theaters showing such greats as [b]Gone in Sixty Seconds and the remake, [b]Free Jack for the racing scene of course; [b] Smokey and the Bandit's I, II, and III and just about any other vehicularlly themed move they could get their hands on.

The number of Bond Girl wanna bees was rather incredible - though the judging was to take place over ten days, on this first day there were nearly a thouand milling around and providing the mostly male exhibit staffs with drool worthy visitors as they waited for their turn before the panel. Which in turn pulled other visitors, mostly male, down to look at the wanna be's.

Though the wewt end also got their fair share of visitors, though most of these were slightly older folks who wanted to brouse the historic cars that HM Queen Mercedez of Tanaara had sent over. There were some very rare vehicles dispalyed in their indeed, including Her Majesties beloved Spell Breaker.

Up on the second level, Chantal, Baroness di' Racul stopped by the Verona exhibit to thank Jason for a most pleasant evening. "Jason I hope you enjoyed it I most certainly did! And when are you going to lift the cloth? Noon? I'll be back then front and center to see what you all have under there" Chantal smiled as she handed him a large foam cup of gourmet coffee. "I know I needed an extra one this morning." She added before she headed off to the left, she had to see someone at another exhibit, about a rumor she'd heard last night.

Jason was absolutely buzzing from the Caffiene that he had drunk to keep himself awake and alert and it was probably part of the reason why he couldn't remember anything, He had so much trouble his attention focused. But however Chantal... The Baroness di' Racul.. was another creature entirely. "The unvealing will be at Noon" he confirmed "I'll be looking for you." He added before finding someone else to talk up about the Verona Lear.

Meanwhile the brothers had gotten a bit lost. "I thought you said it was on the left."

"What? I had no idea it was even down here, I was just following you."

"I would of sworn it was here."

"Well, perhaps it's over there." he said pointing to the sign that said Bond cars.

"Ooo"

After the few minutes of delay there were where they had intended to be...

"Bond Cars and Bond Girls does it get any better than this?"

"Not yet..."

The two of them practically got lost inside the looking at the various Aston Martins and other cars that were featured in the movies. Woow

TMZIA, Exposition, Level One Bond Car and Girl... Exhibition

"OMG Sarah, are you sure you 'eard right?" One young lovely who couldn't be more thant twenty one squeeled to another, even better looking lass.

"Absolutely Fanny! The Aston man was crying, I swear... and look, I snuck this out!" The second replied as she waved a five by seven sized piece of glossy paaper about.

Fanny snatched the paper out of Sarah's hand and looked it over. "Oh I bet you get in trouple this is a copy proof, not a final handout, but like, WOW!"

Sarah snatched it back and crumpled it up "No one saw me take it and so" She tossed int he direction of a trash can, but missed.

The galley proof that was to have been printed up over night and distributed the next morning to the exhibitors, lay discarded on the floor. It was an announcement by the company getting set to start filiming the next Bond film was seeking a new Bond car, that the one that was supposed to have been supplied by Aston Martin had suddenly become unavailable. That they were soliciting replacement vehicles with as much elan, polish, and ingenuity as the ones long provided by Aston Martin...

What may have started off as little more than a vicious rumor quickly found its way into the chat rooms and forum boards of the Imitoran populace. Soon, it went from being nothing more than words on air to a full fledged protest. Threats of lynching and worse flooded the email boxes of all the MGM studio heads. It would be the coldest day in hell before Imitorans let James Bond drive anything but an Aston. Even if it meant having Hoot or Bendigo from BSC buy an Aston, change it up the tiniest bit, and sell it to the studio right up.
____

Ryan pushed himself away from the pillow with slightly more than a groan. He rolled off the bed, up to his feet, with a mumble of "I'm never drinking again."

Of course, the previous year, he had quit 52 times, so he doubted this year would be any different. Digging through his kit, he found the large bottle of extra strength Tylenol, took a hand full more than he should have, and washed it down with what was left of a glass of mystery substance. The kick said it still had some booze in it somewhere, but then again to Ryan, the best way to go was a touch of the hair of the dog that bit you.

Within twenty minutes, he was showered, cleaned up, and on the outside looked no more worse for wear. Standing was mildly difficult, and the Allman Brother's Jessica blasting from the main room wasn't helpful, but he could deal with it. He had had worse.

He stepped out into the main room wearing a loose fitting Ferrari tee shirt, a simple number in red with the shield on the left breast and the block lettered Ferrari across the back. The jeans were hardly high class or expensive, just a cheap pair he had picked up for working on his cars. Shoes were the always comfy Pumas, and he grabbed the Omega he was often seen with, and strapped it on. Snatching his dark blue lensed Oakley's off a desk, he tugged them on to shield his eyes, and dropped into a chair.

Kevin Bendigo (http://www.thomov.com/largepho/Vinny%20Jones.jpg) was leaning back in one of the leather chairs, nursing something that looked like it might have been a bloody mary. "Bout time you woke up," he chuckled, his British accent coming through clearly. Bendigo was one of the many British ex-pats who had left for Imitora when the Queen had begun her push towards punishing car owners.

"Eat me," Ryan mumbled, grabbing a large bottle of water, and taking a good long pull. "Why are you all gussied up?"

And Kevin was. The suit was more modern than most offerings, a blue shirt worn top open and sans tie, under a black suit coat. The pants matched, and the shoes were well polished.

"Giving a bit of a lecture talk. 'Bout the importance of opening up the grey market."

Ryan nodded. He was about to ask if Kevin had seen Rays or Doc when the sound of harsh vomiting came from one of the bath rooms. Ryan moved up to the door and knocked.

"Whose in there?"

"Steve."

"Steve who?"

"I'm the kid from last night, with the car bombs."

Ryan nodded. "Excellent then. Listen kid, your sticking with us today. Finish the purge, grab a shower, and get dressed. Meet us at my display, gravy?"

There was a grunt that could be construed as an "ok", and Ryan went back to the table.

"You see Charli yet?"
___

Harlan was busy finishing up the last bit of kit touch up on the Skyline when the doors finally opened. The gold R33 glistened perfectly under the well set up lights. The lighting was the key, as any car show survivor would know. Proper use of the lighting would not only draw the eye in to key points on the car, while also creating shadowing and highlights that made the car jump out from the podium.

As the doors open, he straitened out the sheeting on the Le Mans car, smoothing out any wrinkles. As he turned to greet the show goers, he noticed an odd lack of persons at the Psychosis booth. Rays and Doc were present, finishing up final touches on the display, and securing Ryan's Supra to its stand. However, Ryan himself was not in yet, and Harlan allowed himself a small smile.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rob Ryan, and made a mental note to confirm the bet they had made the other night.

There was a rumour here a remark there, innuendo and suggestion floating around. What was it about and finally a crumpled up poster went flying towards the bin through the crowd which was noticed by the two Bazalonians...

"Did you see where that came from?" Herman

"Nah, somewhere over there I think." Luke

Herman reached down and picked up the crumpled up notice but not without being hustled and justled by the other attendees. Opening it up... "Wow, Just, Wow. Look at this luke."

He handed the poster over. "Aww, man Bond's just not going to be the same without his AM."

Luke quickly dragged Herman out of the plot... "But do you know what that means?"

"That the Verona Prospero could be the next Bond Car?"

"yeah, wouldn't that be cool."

"Yeah, but still I'm not sure James Bond without an Aston Martin is like, a tank with no petrol in it, an engine with no oil, a..."

"Ok,Ok, I get the picture. I wonder what the people at Verona are doing."

Back at Verona... Jason had found out the same thing and had already mocking up a pitch for the studio execs why the Verona Prospero should be the next bond car.

Charli had risen early and kissed a soundly sleeping Ryan with a smile before showering and heading to the hospital to check on Willow. She knew that anethesia stayed in the body for days, making it unlikely that Willow wa relly awake enough to recognise or remember any visitors. However she also wanted to talk with Jonni Lea. She'd been offered a good price on airplanes to transport the people and equipment she needed for her in-the-offing company. She was going to take Jonni Lea up on her offer. Half of her was sad, she loved being in the field far more than she ever would being stuck in an office or back at a fires command base, but she also knew that the risk were getting higher aas she got older, and if Ryan said yes to her request tonight she would pretty much have to put her smoke jumping days behind her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And Rob was looking for Harlan. He strode over briskly "You've done an excellent job displaying the Skyline. But Ryan will blow you away and I'll use the fifty million to buy Aeris something nice." He added cheerfully as he looked the gleaming car over. "Oh and just so you can sneer that I'm playing errand boy, the Sultan is having a private " and here Rob had to chuckle "dinner and wargames afterward and he'd like you to come. But you need to work fast as he want's every one to have a suitable date."

The black Ford GT whistled in the fast lane towards the expo center. Behind the wheel, Bendigo kept a glancing eye on the A/F gauge, making sure his car wouldn't run to lean. The twin turbo set ups for the new Ford super car were still a bit testy, and he didn't want his main show car to blow up in one of those Ferrari class lap three blunders.

Ryan simply nodded along with the beat of the metal blaring over the car's stereo, lip syncing along with the rock.

"Feelin' better?" Kevin asked.

"You know it," Ryan nodded, taking a long pull from the white Starbucks coffee cup. "Does the body good."

Kevin laughed as they pulled into the parking area. "Well, just try not to do anything stupid or throw up on anyone's shoes. I'm sure Charli would be mad if you did it."
____

Harlan smiled warmly at Rob.

You've done an excellent job displaying the Skyline. But Ryan will blow you away and I'll use the fifty million to buy Aeris something nice. Oh and just so you can sneer that I'm playing errand boy, the Sultan is having a private dinner and war games afterward and he'd like you to come. But you need to work fast as he wants every one to have a suitable date.

"Thats nice, thanks for relaying the message."

He turned back to the Skyline, and then back to Rob. "And I'll be sure to use your fifty million to fund a few new projects as well. I'm sure you'll buy whatever your paying the girl dating you something nice with your pocket cash. But I'm surprised, I was thinking something more than fifty? Well, I could expect as much from someone so sure about a race, yet to much of a pussy to bet a car."

Harlan shrugged, and turned back to the Skyline. Before Rob could reply, another voice called out from within the pack of Psychosis cars.

"David Harlan, who invited you out here?"

David turned, and walked right past Rob towards the other Fortier scion. "Ryan, always a pleasure, what brings you this way."

The two shook hands politely and friendly enough, but an on looker would know it was something more of a polite gesture lacking sincerity.

"Just here to show the rest of the world how to build a fast car."

"Oh, so you'll be show casing my cars for me?"

Ryan laughed, tightening his grip. Harlan did the same. "Oh no, I meant my cars. I know you have the trouble distinguishing them at times, seeing as you tend to steal ideas."

Harlan squeezed back this time. "Well, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. In fact, I was just wagering here with your half brother about who would win in a race between us. Of course, you would have to accept first."

"Wait, do you want to race? I mean, last time we lined up, you had a bit of trouble I recall getting all the way to the end."

Both of them spoke lightly, smiling and nodding as if they were the best of friends. They each had a sort of light humor to their tones, and as they released from the hand shake, Harlan just shook his head.

"Come now Ryan, we don't want to upset your little brother here. You in?"

Ryan rolled his eyes, glancing over at Rob.

"What are the terms? With you and him," he said, tossing his thumb towards Ryan.

"Fifty with six, on the table. I was trying to get you your dad's car back, but he's to afraid to bet with it. Shows how certain he his that you would win. I even offered up whats under the sheet, thinking that if he won it, he could sell it for a proper charity. Guess he wasn't thinking about others or such."

Rays had wandered over, and was now taking an active listening role in the conversation. The two Psychosis Imitorans took a look at each other, as if sizing up the offer.

Ryan stepped back, and shrugged at Rays.

"What dya think we could run for?"

Rays sighed, then looked up for a moment, as if taking an inward glance at himself. "Cash and keys was always good for the big names in Temple."

"Can't be any more creative than that?" Harlan asked. "I mean, I do most of my work on exotics and pasta rockets, and the Skylines. I don't have much room for a Poopra." He looked up at Ryan's latched down Toyota.

Ryan shrugged. "I like it. Say ten grand, cash up front. Keys on the table too. I could always use that Skyline to finance some fun stuff."

"Just the race keys?"

"I can toss in the Dominator blue prints if you match it."

"How about your own personal Dominator, and I can throw in one of my Ferraris. The supercharged 599?"

Ryan held back, and took a look at Rays. Rays crossed his arms, and shrugged. "Your call man."

Ryan contimplated every option, considering where he could take it. He knew the Supra was strong, but at only 1100rwhp, it was on the weak side. Harlan could damned well be pushing a full 1400 or 1500 at all four on the Skyline, and Ryan wouldn't be surprised if he did. But then again, Harlan wasn't the best driver around, and his last race between the seven hundred at the wheels Silvia and Ryan's six fifty 951 had gone to Fortier's favor.

Ryan extended his arm again. "Five miles, one way. First across the line, plus we get a holder. Bendigo or Hoot. No passengers, and the cars stay the way they are right now."

David took his hand, and gave it a firm and challenging shake. "Deal."

Rob just watched and listened. He was going to catch shit from Ryan - his older half brother had always been hostile towards him, with Rob never quite sure why. Not that he really cared, their lives intersected very little.

"Fifty with six, on the table. I was trying to get you your dad's car back, but he's to afraid to bet with it. Shows how certain he his that you would win. I even offered up whats under the sheet, thinking that if he won it, he could sell it for a proper charity. Guess he wasn't thinking about others or such."

The Spell Breaker wasn't his, and certainly not his to wager. His mother's happiness meant more to him than whatever opinion the two Imitorans had of him. He knew Ryan would win, had every faith in his half brother, but if it took wagering the Spell Breaker to make Ryan believe that, then that was Ryan's problem not his.

The wager had been publicly confirmed and the invitation delivered, that meant Rob didn't need to stay. Quietly he went back over to the display of historic Tanaaran vehicles. He'd volunteered to act as a docent for several hours each day. A couple of the cars he'd helped do a lot of the exacting restoration on and could speak with some authority on them.

Chantal stood back in the crowd, but close enough to over hear as she watched Ryan and Harlan hobnobbing. They seemed to have done a good job of making Rob into a wimp. She hated Robert Fortier- Hexx with a passsion. He'd turned her down and she enjoyed finding ways to make him pay for ignoring her.

No man turned down Baroness Di' Racul and lived to be happy about it. Ryan Fortier owed her too, so she find a way to take him down as well. But for now she wanted to find out if the other Imitoran's waspish words were true.

"Ryan, can I speak to you privately.?" She approached him as he returned to his exhibition space.

Ryan held up his hand to the Baroness. He was busy with someone else at the moment, and she would just have to wait. And like most in Imitora, titles meant little to Ryan.

"So like I was saying, it really depends on how far you want to go with the car, and how you want to use it. I mean, six hundred horsepower from one set up will be worlds apart from another six hundred set up."

The man Ryan was talking to seemed to understand where Ryan was going, if not what he meant.

"So if your looking for just a weekend toy, we can roll with something along the lines of a BPU+ or double plus set up, maybe look at going with some aftermarket twins run in parallel. But if your looking for something in race trim, a road course, then we'd need to run another route. But whenever your ready, just give as a call and we can go where you want. It depends on what your looking for in your Supra. And if your seriously looking into playing with your Merc, you should go talk to Kevin Bendigo over there at BSC. He'll set it up just right, and you'll get something Barbrus strong but more unique."

The potential customer thanked Ryan, and went back to admiring the RSP Supra up on the main stand, the hood back and revealing its guts for the whole show to see.

Ryan then turned to face Chantal.

"What?"

Chantal waited patienly. Being impatient had cost many a hunter the prize and besides She knew Ryan Fortier enough to know that he was better approached with reasonable logic than anything else.

"I heard something last night that I find hard to believe is true, and since it concerns you I'd thought I'd ask you" Chantal kept her voice at the low end of conversational. "According to that slime, David Harlan, you're taking the Dominator public."

"But part of what you were advertising and implying was that you were going to be limiting it to just twenty, that the Dominators exclusevity was part of the allure of the vehicle, part of what your were charging for." She didn't seem angry but honestly curious and bewhildered.

Ryan nodded.

"Yep. Anyone who can afford one can buy one. Made the call a few days back, after taking a spin in a twin turbocharged Enzo. I decided it would be better for Psychosis and the automotive community as a whole to make the vehicle available for enthusiasts who could afford it. And the charge was all about manufacturing costs, parts, and the like. I'm not Bugatti, I wont sell one for a loss. But now that we have some patents on the molds and such, we can also drop the price about thirty or forty thousand."

Ryan turned, and waved to someone he obviously knew. Another tuner whom he had spoken with the previous night. Then he turned his focus back to Chantal.

"Anyways, its also on the sales confirmation that you signed, and the shipping contracts. Down at the bottom. Says I reserve the rights at any time to modify the production number, production process, cost, or advertising and shipping processes. Lawyers made sure that was the second thing I did. First was to copyright the design, trademarks, trade dress, things like that. You did read the contract, didn't you?"

Chantal nodded understandingly, or so it seemed "Yes I did, and had my lawyers check it out as well. So yes, you are within yur rights, but it does feel as if you are thowing your word away for monentary gain." She looked perplexed and then a look of concern came over her face.

"You aren't having financial difficulties are you?" Her tome was one of deepest sincerity. "I know financial downturns can be very upsetting."

Ryan shook his head. "Nope. Just wanted to make them available for everyone. A true enthusiast will see I'm not selling out at all. And money problems? Hardly. Sweetheart, I'm moving cars like candy bars. Doc just finished up our first Viper project, and Tim is cranking out Porsches regularly now."

Ryan turned to wave over one of his assistants to take care of a lighting issue with Doc's Cobra.

"Whats the problem Chantal? Afraid people wont care about you any more just because you don't have an uber exclusive super car? Not that it was all that exclusive anyways. Big engine in a light, aerodynamic car. Whup."

At the last word, Ryan held up a finger, and did a circle in the air. It was the truth, really. The car was super light with its Carbon Kevlar Chassis, and a big motor with boost had just been shoe horned in.

"Or are you miffed that the ones I and Charli own are better than your common man Dominator?"

Chantal smirked "Selling out is selling out no matter what face you put on it. Your ads made much of exclusivity" She shrugged, unimpressed by his reply

"Ryan honey, if people are caring about me, or noticing me, because of the car I drive, then they have a problem, not me." She smiled smugly and added "Well your little Miss Firewalker must not think to much of the car you haven't given her yet. Of course you don't seem to think all that much of her anyway. I've heard a couple of things."

She paused a moment to take a sip of the coffee she'd been drinking and continued "She brought a thug's car back with her from her last little jaunt. A butt ugly, like the tee shirt she wore yesterdsay when she rolled through the security check point, but was that about her or the car? And has any one mentioned that it seems that people are taking pot shots at her. I hear that fifty is a popular round for use on her. But whatever Ryan. Have fun with it all, and be sure not to ever advertise anything as exclusive again. The people you sold on it with that implication have long memories. They won't be back to your shop." She waggled her fingers 'bye bye' as she left, tossing her cup in the trash as she sauntered out of the area.

Ryan chuckled. "Go get turned down by another guy," he called out as she walked away. "I'm sure eventually you'll find someone to nail your ugly ass. Might want to try the brown bag special, or take it from behind. That way they can pretend you look like someone fuckable."

Doc gave Ryan a harsh eye, and moved over quickly to him. "Man you wanna go act foolish, don't do it around our shit," he hissed.

Ryan shrugged. "So what, some rich prick who wont even take the car above twenty miles an hour wont come back. Big deal. Give me a month, I'll build a faster car. And I'll use one of our cars to do it."

"Just watch it. You don't wanna scare people off."

Ryan watched as more potential customers moved in, taking close look of the vehicles on display. "I don't think we need to worry about that. Besides, I have more important stuff to deal with."

Rays, who wasn't as much showing off his car as he was milling around the display, nodded. "Yeah, like your brother challenging Harlan to race and throwing you up. It was like that time Weaver called out Woon, and then tossed up someone else to drive for him."

Ryan nodded. "That is some quality bee ess right there. I just hope Charli shows up soon enough to get a look at that GT-R, see what we are up against."

Doc shrugged, and turned on to explain his Cobra's set up to an on looker.

Ryan laughed it off, and looked back at Rays. "I wouldn't screw her, Rob wouldn't screw her. Shit, shes not pissed off I took away her exclusivity, shes just mad she can't get laid."

Rays laughed in agreement.

Charli wandered around the expo a bit, making sure that one David Harlan was present. She'd growled a little deep in her throat seeing Chantal talking to Ryan, but she was too far away to over hear what Ryan called after the Tanaaran to make her flip him the bird as she sashayed off. That brightened her day a little, as she detested the woman thoroughly. She wove through the crowds, stopping to admire the more radical cars but only briefly. She was wearing an outfit like many were wearing in the mild weather (http://www.atddm.com/Charli5a.jpg) - something she didn't normally wear. Charli made sure to stop at several exhibits in the general area and ask somewhat knowledgeable questions.

"Yeah, like your brother challenging Harlan to race and throwing you up. It was like that time Weaver called out Woon, and then tossed up someone else to drive for him."

"Except for one thing" Came a cool female voice from behind the pair. Mercedez Hexx smilled wryly at the two as they turned about. "Rob didn't challenge Mr. Harlan. David Harlan was boasting and talking crap about you, even had the crassness to involve those going through the recieving line." She snorted delicately at the memory. She eyed the pair and added "Ryan, I came by for another reason." The queen wondered if Chantal had stopped by to complain about what had been spilled the night before by the other Imitoran. If he'd thought that his conversation in the recieving line had gone unnoticed he was sadly mistaken.

Her security was at a fair distance but still alert and not that comfortable about her being that far from them. She wore a simple classic pants suit with minimal jewelry and make up. She had been hostessing a double handfull of dignataries and their wives through the collection of vehicles she was allowing to be exhibited. But since Rob was describing a rare antique to them she'd slipped away for a few mintues, wanting to warn Ryan of the recent assassination attempts on Charli.

Ryan turned, almost sighing. "I bet he didn't. I bet Harlan just flat out said I'm going to race Ryan Fortier of Psychosis Motorsports, and Rob said sure, and I bet he'll win? Or was it more like if Ryan challenges me, I'll kick his ass, and Rob bet him? I'm gonna say it was more likely the second."

He shrugged and turned back to his cars. "Well what do you want? Seems I'm pretty popular with you all right now."

"We should head up to the Verona Exhibit and pass this on." said Herman

"Perhaps, I'm not easy about having this, it's like carrying around a big neon sign. Let's just bin it."

"Nah, don't be a worry wart. It would be cool if Verona where the Next Bond manufacter."

The two of them seemingly able to have a private conversation in a thronging crowd exited the Bond Exhibit, turning left to go back up to the 2nd level, up ahead they saw two security officers coming down, from the 2nd level.

Luke gulped and hoped that they would just pass them by...

"You know Ryan Fortier, if you are looking to make a name as a bigger ass than your father you are doing a fine job of it. I'm half tempted just to leave but I like and owe Charlie." She withdrew a slim black plasic CD jewel case from the inner pocket of her blazer and handed it to Ryan. "The details of another contract on her are in there. The information is from uncompromised sources."

Ryan took the jewel case and tucked it away. If it were anything like the information he was looking at not but a few years back, it would again be best to pass it on to other sources who were far better at analyzing data than he. He was just the gun man, and he did the driving. He left the intell work up to his employers.

You know Ryan Fortier, if you are looking to make a name as a bigger ass than your father you are doing a fine job of it. I'm half tempted just to leave but I like and owe Charlie.

"Just another way for me to separate myself from him," he said, turning and moving on. "But hey, your the one that tried to marry the guy. So maybe I should take that as a compliment. And of course, you owe her and like her so much your just gonna pass off the dirty work to me. I'll make sure it gets taken care of."

The information would be passed on to an ONI contact later in the day, Ryan didn't have the means to access the information now, nor the equipment to do anything about it. Between himself, Doc, Rays, and Bendigo, they had three guns, and little else. The last thing he wanted to deal with now was another needing to kill a bunch of people situation. But it seemed to follow him. Instead, he went back to the cars and show goers at the display.

And of course, you owe her and like her so much your just gonna pass off the dirty work to me. I'll make sure it gets taken care of."

"No Ryan, I passed it on to you cause she lives with you, in Imitora, where I can't act and you and yours can. If you don't want the information I'll take it back. She never knew it but she had a Tanaaran fighter escort and more from the minute her plane went wheels up till she entered TMZ airspace and then their people took over." Mercy said softly, but didn't really care if he heard her or not. Though while she was here outside of Imitora there would be a discrete and careful cordon of security operatives around Charli, just as there were at the present. She could and had ordered that.

Charli wandered around the exhibits in the general area of NAIS, working all of them much the same way, interested, and asking half way knowledgeable questions, claiming a brother who had worked on his car alot. She didn't single anyone make out, but seemed to like the exotics more.

When Charli got around to the NAIS set up she waited in line for a chance to try her skills in the interactive Imitoran street racing simulator she kept her eyes on the supercharged Ferrari F430 Scudaria. She had given the gleaming gold Skyline and the Imitoran turbocharged Honda NSX both a good once over but pinned her attention on the prancing pony.

When she finally made it to the front of the line she gave the simulator all of her attention and all of her skill. She wasn't a hard core street racer like Ryan, she was far more a rally driver, one that specialized in the tricky roads of mountainous country. But she'd give it one hundred percent.

Luke gulped and hoped that they would just pass them by...

They didn't though. The shorter of the two had a pleasant voice as he stopped the two Bazalonian youngsters.

"Hey, you haven't seen a small girl, blonde, with pigtails. In Oshkosh denim overalls and a pink tee shirt?" He read off the description from a flyer. The one he gave them had picture of a chubby faced girl of maybe five years of age. "If you see her just find a guard quick as you can okay?" He didn't notice the wrinkled paper in their hands at all.

Noon was just minutes away...

TMZ 2nd Level, Central Section, Bazalonia/ Verona Exhibit

Chantal posted herself front and center, unabashedly elbowing her way through the crowds. She wanted to see the sheet go up on Verona's newest offering. She noted the presence of several camera crews with a smile. She caught Jason's eye and gave him an broad, encouraging smile.

The crowds were thick and no one noticed the smal girl in a blue denim Oshkosh romper and a pink tee, though they really couldn't be blamed for not noticing her.

The BazaBurger was doing a land office business, and every one of their franchise folders had been snatched up by visitors from around the globe who found the burgers unusual and delicious.

TMZ 1st Level, West endNAIS, Psychosis

The hysteria over the upcoming race between the Imitorans had reached a fever pitch in the region, with more news crews and last minute travellers swelling the crowds on the ground level. The number of newly flown in Imitorans who were wondering where they'd find hotel rooms for the night was overwhelming.

Just after Charli finished her simulator runs, the Imitoran news crews showed up bringing in nearly blinding lights and upping the already tense atmosphere up even more. They were all but slavering over the rumored race car hidden under the pristine sheets.

The near by Italian restraunt was doing a land office buisness, waiters charging back and forth from the kitche area like madmen, but the tips that were being left more than made up for the hard work.

One of the Pettimore's crew - he'd introduced himself as Wesley the day before - had stopped by Psychosis and let Doc know that Willow had come though in as best a shape as could be and that none of them held any sort of grudge. "You ought ta see the sites man they are going nuts off your boss's race against that NAIS jackass." The computer set up that the Pettimores had wired up in their ' back room' was scarily impressive. "Ya'll can come surf anytime you want, we've ten twenty four inchers back there It's a full T3 connection." The lanky ex Seal shrugged, he liked to play on computers, but he wasn't heavily into them.

The whole Kelly's Tuning and Front Runner Auto Brokers was well if not flashily laid out. The vehicles they had brought were all top condition, and had looked good on the cameras of the newscrews that had come to follow up on yesterday evenings terrible accident. But the Pettimores had quietly and discretely diflected question, sending the tv crews to other displays in the area with adroit handling.

1st Floor:

Luke almost breathed a sigh of relief when he found out there were only looking for the person on the poster, but he didn't.

"No, haven't seen her."

"Nope."

"Hang on, what time is it?"

"It's 11:59... "

"Crap, the unveiling's happening now... um Excuse us."

And with that they rushed up stairs in the hope to see the unveiling, with the amount of people in their way. It was amazing but there just in time to see the cloth lift from the car.

2nd Level: Verona Exhibit

Jason caught Chantal's smile and smiled back, it was a smile of nervous apprehension, he wasn't sure how this would all go down, but at least he had friendly face in the crowd. Butterflies were working over time in his stomach as he picked up a wireless microphone and turned it on, the people responsible for sound in the background increased the microphone level to a previously determined level, while a rhythmic thumping started to grow louder and louder. It was followed by an electic guitar and soon many other instruments the music wasn't too loud but it was faced pace.

"A car that knows you, knows your favourite radio stations, a car that moulds itself around you. A car that tailors itself to you has long been the goal for Verona and today, we're going to reveal our latest in concept a car. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, the Verona Portia Concept car."

And with a sweep of his hand the cloth covering up the car lifted up, it revealed

http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f387/Bazalonia/Concept.jpg

"Advanced electronics inside and outside the car, make for a driving experience that tailors it self to you. Being personally identified by your electronically taged keys, *showing a key on a Verona key chain*. The car remembers you, and tailors almost everything imaginable to suit you, from dynamic personalised number plates, that can display appropriate tags, if you a learner or provisional driver to engine performance and tuning to positioning of your seat. The Verona Portia Concept car also adapts the latest in electronic speed control. Supporting a wide range of electronic speed standards, it adapts the speedometer so the current speed limit is always at twelve o'clock position. And for roads that don't have a speed limit, it returns to a more conventional-style guage. The Verona Portia the car that personalises itself, for you."

It was at this point that the music and accompanying light show ended with a single thump climax point, after which it soon died down.

With all the BazaBurger franchise folders gone it was now time for Frederick to have some fun, he was in the back of the crowd, hardly could see anything.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a surprise for you, we have brought with us some implements and if you notice the car's wheels are sitting along 2 freely rotating barrels and including a computer simulation. You get to try out the car right here, right now."

A hose type thing was connected to the muffler to transport the output out and away from the assembled crowd. "Now, who will be the first?" said Jason looking around. "Would you like to have a go, miss?" pointing to Chantal, there was a glint in his eyes.

Rays sat back in the crowd about the Verona car. He took in all the information as the show man spoke, taking note of the key features. At least most of the ninnies could be turned off.

The look was contemporary and modern, but still to concepty for his taste. But that was always up to individual taste. There were many people who didn't like his Evolution, but then again, the majority of them only got to see the tail lights of the car as he pulled away down the quarter mile.

Still, it didn't strike him as a particularly good car. It was an excellent vehicle, yes, but it seemed to lack something, with all the gizmo's and gadgets and such.

"It's like a Lexus," he muttered. Another show goer looked at him quizzically. "A car for people who don't like to drive." Still, he had been tasked with recon, and he would make note of that what was, and wasn't, good.
___

Doc had seemed preoccupied when he had been approached by the Pettimore. His response had been a curt but marginally polite "ok". If any of the Pettimores blamed him for the accident, they could come talk to him personally. However, his attention was else where, on a shortish man approaching with another camera crew.
___

The camera crews pushed past Charli, wanting to get just the right position to see what Harlan unveiled. The crowd around the NIAS booth was denser and a bit more upper class than those that were around Psychosis. People who weren't looking for cars as much, but toys weekend jaunts. An observant Charli would have noticed a rather proper looking man, dressed in a more antiquated fashion, a button down, short sleeved aloha shirt worn under a sport coat, tucked into well pressed jeans and loafers. His hair was starting to show grey, and it hung down to his shoulders in curls. He was speaking with Harlan casually, as if they were old friends.
___

The Imitoran camera crews had set up just as they planned, but another camera crew had taken true command of the central area. A number of large speakers had been set up, as well as a stage with four seats and a table, and some hanging back drop. Just minutes before Harlan was to unveil the car under the sheet, the speakers barked to life, playing a more modern, "rocky" version of the The Allman Brothers Band's Jessica.

The voice would be powerfully familiar to any true car fan as it made the announcement of their purpose.

"Tonight, Richard Hammond looks at toy race car. James May looks at a real race car. And I get to drive, and talk to the man who built, the ultimate car. All this, and a bit more, on Top Gear, live from the TMZ Automotive Excellence Exposition."

As soon as Clarkson finished his introduction, the bouncy rock anthem turned up a bit louder, and the cameras all swung to face Harlan's booth.

As all the lights hit him, he pulled away hard on the sheet, revealing a true, purpose built racer.

http://www.nzrrbc.co.nz/2003%20Le%20Mans%20winner%20and%20Royal%20Bentley%20model%20064(1).jpg
Ignore the decals,please

"Ladies and gentlemen," David began, "I present to you Northampton Import Automotive Specialists' entry into the world of real racing, the LPRC-001!"

The crowd erupted into applause, and over at the Psychosis booth, careful on lookers would note that Ryan looked just a hair jealous.

TMZ, NAIS Exhibit

She looked at the man speakling to Harlan and blinked. She did recognise him and that made her take a deep breath. Now she had even more reasaon to dislike the man. How he'd arranged this little one up was beyond her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Northampton Import Automotive Specialists' entry into the world of real racing, the LPRC-001!"


Charli's response to what was under the sheet was a brief closing of her eyes and a inaudible "Fuck!" Her instant impulse, which she quickly squelched, was to do a little damage to the inside, like melt the entire motor out. It didn't impress her all that much, she wasn't into that sort of racing. She looked it over for a few seconds and then moved around to where she had a clear view of the R33 and the Ferrari. The Skyline was the one she wanted the information on. But she knew she'd have to wait until Harlan got through preening himself before the tv.

You know I really shouldn't damage the cars...but Her inner imp pushed her ever so willing thoughts, and one by one the Top Gear crew's massive light stands overheated and blew out. She contemplated doing something more then shrugged to herself. More would let those in the know know, but those big lights blew often enough that no one should be able to guess it was her. She felt bad for Ryan and wondered how much the Top Gun spokesman had to be paid to associate with assholes like David Harlan.

TMZ Level 1 NAIS

The lights suddenly failing brought every thing at the Top Gear set up to a halt and technicians milled around trying to make repairs . They hadn't come prepared to replace all of their lights and couldn't understand how the whole lighting set up had failed. The show would be taped a little later than they had planned - after they had scrounged up enough lights to give them the minimum lighting needed. In the mean time the Italian restraunt offered Mr. Clarkson an antipasta platter and an excellent wine, on the house.

TMZ Level 2 Verona Exhibit

Would you like to have a go, miss?"

"I'd absolutely adore it!" Chantal beamed as she stepped into the exhibit proper and sashayed up to the Verona Portia Concept. She looked good, as always, and knew it. The camera men smiled and made sure they got the luxurious car and the equally luxurious lady in the best shots possible. Chantal posed and winked discretely at Jason as the still cameras flashed and the tv cameras recorded it all.


She let Jason open the door and hand her inside, as she whispered "Very nice car Jason and a very nice introduction. " She found all the controls intuitive and easy to set to just how she prefered. This car wouldn't have the almost frightening power of the Dominatior, but she could tell already that it was going to be a very nice, genteel car that would have a steady stream of comfort minded buyers.

Over at the Tanaaran exhibit near by Mister Dinwiddie was glad that he had six hours to let the furor die down. He wanted his debut to get just as much ooohing and ahhing as Verona's had. He applauded the Portia, it was a good looking car with many innovations that his shared. He was glad they would be competeing for sales since the Tanaaran consortium did not sell outside the region.

"Take your time, adjust everything exactly the way that seems most comfortable, and when your ready, if you would turn the key."

Ripping his attention from Chantal for a moment, Jason once again addressed the crowd.

"The Portia meshes old world familiarity with new world ingenuity. The keys as I mentioned before have electronics in them which identify the person driving, the key has to both physically fit in the lock as well as be electronically verified, this along with standard security features such as alarm and engine immobiliser add to the security of the car."

As Chantal, by this time had gotten the car interior set up the way she liked it, Jason looked down, "Let's take it for a bit of a drive then." he smiled at her, before turning back to the crowd. "We're going now to take her for a bit of a spin, if you would look to that monitor over there, you'll be able to see the dashboard of the car."

And where he indicated there was a monitor not all could see it but there was another one on the other side .

"If you would be able to start the car please miss."

There gears where also a combination of Automatic and manual, it could be fully automatic, but it also used the "automatic clutching system" to allow the driver to also manually control the gears as easily as possible. In otherwords it used a "selectronic" based system for it's gearing.

TMZIA, Level Red Owl Customs Exhibit

It was around noon when Rowan showed up at the Red Moon Customs exhibit with her arms full of paper bags leaking the tantlizing smells of hot burgers, fries "Hey Lance did you try calling me this morning?"

She was followed by one of the Outlaws carrying a cooler full of sodas and beer. He set it down with a friendly nod and headed back over to the Kelly's Tuning and Front Runner exhibit just a few spaces away. The crowds, especially since they were so close to the Imitoran and Tanaaran Royal Vehicles exhibit were something fierce. A suprizing number of Tarlachians had shown up as well.

"Willow's woken up and even talked a little bit several times. She still drops off to sleep at the drop of the proverbial hat though. I just heard that her last blood work came back clean too. If the next one does they'll take her off of ICU status."

TMZIA, Level Red Owl Customs Exhibit

It was around noon when Rowan showed up at the Red Moon Customs exhibit with her arms full of paper bags leaking the tantlizing smells of hot burgers, fries "Hey Lance did you try calling me this morning?"

She was followed by one of the Outlaws carrying a cooler full of sodas and beer. He set it down with a friendly nod and headed back over to the Kelly's Tuning and Front Runner exhibit just a few spaces away. The crowds, especially since they were so close to the Imitoran and Tanaaran Royal Vehicles exhibit were something fierce. A suprizing number of Tarlachians had shown up as well.

"Willow's woken up and even talked a little bit several times. She still drops off to sleep at the drop of the proverbial hat though. I just heard that her last blood work came back clean too. If the next one does they'll take her off of ICU status."

Lance turned to the sound of a familiar voice, and saw Rowan standing there with food in her arms, and drinks at her feet. He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile crossing his face. "Begging for mercy now are we?" He took a few steps closer, pulling the topmost burger out of the bag, held it up for her to see for a brief moment, "I guess it'll work. Thanks."

He glanced over to the attractions that were currently gathering more people at the moment. Honestly, he didn't care for the crowds. He, and his shop had always been outcasts, just living their own rules and lifestyles. They did enjoy these expos though, so, it wasn't a total waste of time.

"Hey, who's got burgers?!" cried Lance's son as he came around a corner from the restroom, having caught the scent of food on the air. He zoned in on Rowan and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Holy sweet Jesus flyin'..." he muttered to himself as he saw her, and saw her choice of clothing. He recovered a moment later, approaching and looking at the food in Lance's hand. Turning to Rowan, he looked at her, "I don't mean to be rude, but did you bring this for all of us or just specific people in mind?"

_________________________

A lone feminine figure walked casually through the crowds, passing exhibit after exhibit, stopping at some to admire the cars, glancing at others. She had long blonde hair, and a face unrecognizable to anyone. The only tell-tale indication of her true identity was in her eyes, otherwise, she was completely different and human looking. Her gait was comfortable, as if she were moving through a park, or forest with ease. Her eyes scanned the people around her slowly, taking in the conversations, reading the signs, drinking in the exotic cars' details...

All in all, she was the perfect expo tourist.

She caught sight of the only Tarlachian site, and so maneuvered her way through the crowds to one of the cars. She glanced at two of the Tarlachians talking to a pretty young woman who had set down some bags of food at this point. The one known as Lance had looked her way, but hadn't recognized her. He turned back to talk to the other woman, and so the tourist approached one of the two Tarlachian muscle cars, the newer Pontiac.

Red Moon Customs

"Most welcome, but no Pettimore begs for mercy. It's our family stubborness, just like cream it rises to the top" She shook her head but there was no sting in her voice.

Rowan wasn't in heels and so stood only five foot six in her sketcher's but she wore the tight fitting low slung jeans and the cropped tee well. She hadn't felt like dressing up. She hadn't gotten enough sleep for that.

"I don't mean to be rude, but did you bring this for all of us or just specific people in mind?"

Rowan (http://www.atddm.com/rowan.jpg) flashed him a dimple revealing smile and handed him one of the bags. "No they aren't for any one specifically. I figured ya'll be hungry and these Bazel burgers smelled so good that I figured if I couldn'a resist; y'all couldn't either. After all its food and your male" She teased. "There's a variety of sodas and the beers are Shiner Blonde and Shiner Hefeweizen, outta a little Texas brewery that makes beer the old way- small batches and lots of tlc."

A show like Top Gear didn't get to be where it was by not being ready. Trips to the top of the world and the harshest deserts of Africa had taken careful planning, as had the many races. So, while they didn't have the replacement lights on hand, they did have a good stock of them sitting back in the hotel. It was quickly agreed upon by Clarkson and crew that they would simply do a later showing, and the ratings that they pulled for the BBC made Clarkson and crew's final call, just that. Final.

However, Harlan wouldn't be phased by the delay, and many would think he had planned for it. With little pause, he and May quickly went into explaining the features of the Le Mans racer, the diesel motor, the aerodynamics, and the like. Despite what Charli may have thought, May and the Top Gear crew on stage looked like they were having a genuinely good time, the camera men going to still shooters to get some good angle shots of the car.
___

Over at the Psychosis display, the hired DJ quickly went back to work getting music up, having stopped in preparation for Richard's interview of Doc. Quickly some more music was back up on the speakers around the site, leaning more towards the more up beat hip hop genre.

Doc and Richard chatted away about fast and faster cars, and Hammon was enamored by the thought of soon seeing Doc's twin turbo'ed Viper. He had always been a fan of Dodge's performance cars, especially the Charger, and couldn't wait to see what Doc had conjured up.
____

The Kanye West rendition of Stronger being thumped over the main speakers at the Psychosis display was quickly interrupted by what many believed to be a gun shot. It clearly had the crack of a fire arm, and the accompanied smell of something burning also would set off many internal alarms.

However, it was not to be. The crack and bang had not belonged to any hand gun, but instead a single drop of the beloved juice of the JZA80 Toyota Supra. A few show goers had convinced Ryan to start up the RSP beast, and give it a few good revs. As the tach needle swung towards the redline, the ECU took proper measure of the air that the eighty millimeter turbo was compressing.

Upon lifting the throttle after the fourth rev, the ECU over estimated the presence of incoming air, and dumped extra fuel into the lines. This extra dose of C16 race fuel quickly found itself lacking the needed air to stimulate a proper combustion charge, and found itself being sucked out the exhaust side valve. The harsh explosive fuel spiraled down through the exhaust side manifold till it hit the cat-less, wide open down pipe. Upon striking the stainless steel connector, it detonated, and shot out the four inch wide open titanium exhaust piping, exploding out the universal Apex'i offset muffler, designed to help control the tone of a wide open exhaust devoid of catalytic converters.

Those near by the car cheered, knowing exactly what had happened. The entire process had taken milliseconds at best, seeming that the pop had occurred just as Ryan had lifted the throttle.

"Thats how a fast car sounds!" he shouted to the crowd.
____

Ryan's Supra had taken a small bit, but not much, of the attention away from Harlan. He was hardly concerned, though, about those who would turn from a Le Mans car to a street car.

He and May finished explaining to the crowd some of the finer points of a Le Mans car, and Harlan then opened up for questions.

The first came from an Imitoran paper about the use of diesel. Harlan explained the efficiency of using diesel over regular fuel in a car like this. Another came about drivers, and while Harlan played it very cool, he hinted that their were some very big names he was looking at for a wheel man.

"Any more questions?" he asked.