NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC Thread here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=549394)

Port of Miami Late February… Thursday morning…Temperature 65 degrees, winds mild from the east, three day forecast cloudy with a 50 % change of rain with in the next twenty four hours…

The docks are never really deserted, but at three a.m. in the cold, damp Miami morning they are more so than not and make an excellent place to meet.

“All loaded up?”
“Loaded, locked, and stamped by the Feds as legit”

That brought a hoarse laugh from the first man, older, graying but still powerfully muscled. And these days a power to be reckoned with on both sides of the ‘line’.

“Just remember don’t move out until those crazies do. They’ll be the ones with all the eyes on them, leaving you free to make the delivery unmolested.”

“Jeez Pettimore, how much did..”

He was cut off by a curt “Mind your own business. Just don’t get caught, and it’ll be cool”

The driver raised his hands in an opened handed display of submission “Sorry Sir. I’ll get it where it needs to go. You can trust me on that.”

“With your life” Came the hard voiced reply as the older man moved away, climbing into the passenger side of a battered jeep. Externally it wouldn’t draw attention, just another ratty old vehicle, but it’s internals were in perfect working condition.

While Nathan rolled the jeep out of the port area Johnny Lee flipped open an Irridium encrypted sat phone “Hey Lil Sis, every thing all go for that rally in the morning?”

Marriott South Beach Hotel… not so many miles away, but a world away in glamour, style and price range…

Steeped in art deco splendor and a high energy atmosphere, Marriott South Beach is a stylish boutique-style hotel in the trendiest corner of America's Riviera. Perfectly situated in the urban paradise of South Beach on Ocean Drive, this Marriott hotel is a chic, contemporary retreat in the heart of it all. Dive into their new infinity-edged pool with seamless views of Miami Beach or enjoy sumptuous drinks and food while enjoying the view on the expanded outdoor patio at Deco Blue Restaurant.

Jonnie Lea Pettimore laughed at the question. They’d spent enough money making it all ‘go’ for the The Best of the Best, from East 2 West - The Great American Escape -Road Rally

She looked over the crowd chatting, drinking and getting checked in at the Deco Blue Restraunt -even if it was three thirty in the morning and the race..No! It’s Rally with all these damn rules! She reminded herself sharply…

The first ones out of the gate would be getting their tickets punched at seven am…and would be checking into Robbinsville, North Carolina a minimum of ten hours forty five minutes later

Google gives it 12 hours 53 minutes

"Bye Bro" Hanging up Jonnie Lea when to check how registration was doing.

“One hundred and one teams.” She was told and that made her smile. A leisurely view of the parking garage full of every thing from a hand painted VW minibus, a relic from god only knew where, to sleek Euro sedans and even a very rare in the US, a fabulously maintained Enzo, brought her smile even wider.

Some were treating this as little more than a Gumball Rally, a rolling social event; others were obviously far more serious about it. And that was good, because while it wasn’t generally known, first prized was a whopping half million dollars…

But if the Rally-she reminded herself firmly once again- was a success, that was a small price to pay. But then again her definition of success was far different - she didn’t suspect, she knew it was far different than almost everyone else here at the luxury hotel…

She, and her company, Front Runner Automotives weren't the main sponsor, there was a cut out for that, but in every way that counted she was in charge of this rolling roadshow...

The fact that the Marriott South Beach Hotel was filled with auto magazine writers and editors, makers reps, and carnuts of every stripe was due to considerable promotion, very careful behind the scene - and utterly deniable- payoffs, a huge, well laid out web site, and tons of word of mouth. To say nothing of bribing more law enforcement officials than organized crime ever had...well almost Jonnie Lea had to admit that they hadn't bothered even trying in states that the Rally would go nowhere near. but even then with over three years of careful planning they hadn't gotten every one they'd approached, they'd had to arrange a few deaths here and there. Well Johnny Lee had, she stayed out of that end of the family business now days.

She wondered which ones would just stay up till the six thirty breakfast and announcement of starting times.

Three of the cars competeing...

http://img120.imageshack.us/img120/3885/img08cn8.th.jpg (http://img120.imageshack.us/my.php?image=img08cn8.jpg&s=1); http://img120.imageshack.us/img120/7580/alfaromeo8ccompetizionenh2.th.jpg (http://img120.imageshack.us/my.php?image=alfaromeo8ccompetizionenh2.jpg&s=1); http://img120.imageshack.us/img120/8640/ferrari365gtb4ti8.th.jpg (http://img120.imageshack.us/my.php?image=ferrari365gtb4ti8.jpg&s=1)

Marriott South Beach Hotel, Miami, Florida, USA

As Baer and Monteluci had already checked in some hours before, they now checked all parts of their car for the last time.

Giancarlo carefully kept the list of Citroën SM parts, and checked a part when he saw it was in tiptop condition. Meanwhile, Daniel made himself familiar with all technologies that would help them get across the US in this rally. He set the GPS for their destination, Robbinsville in North Carolina, and made sure that there was a mobile internet connection available for the laptop inside the car en route.

'Say, Giancarlo, you know why we're heading out to Robbinsville?' he asked, sticking his head out of the SM's interior and looking at Monteluci.

'No, but I suppose you know, you're asking me.' Giancarlo replied, not looking up from his checklist.

'Well, there's a road there heading up into Tennessee. It's called the Cherohala Skyway, and it is very special, if I understand correctly from this website. Lots of corners and twists.' Daniel said, now looking at the laptop screen.

Giancarlo looked up from his work, and tried to get a view of the laptop.

'Nice. A bit like the Vun Lëtzebuerger Alpen? Or the Zinzener Appeninen? Montagnes Perret?'

'Looks a bit like the Zinzener Appeninen. They're not too high. But it can be a nice road. The highest point is at 1642 meters, so it's a mountain pass, basically.'

'Ah, I see. Well, we'll see what happens. The Palace garages in Luxembourg are standing by to fly parts to our location 24/7, by the way. Including a mechanic, if we may need it.'

'Perfect. Weather will be quite good, 18 degrees Celsius, with a chance of rain in the coming days. You verified the wipers are working, right?'

'They are in perfect condition. I triple-checked the Hydropneumatics, so we won't lose the suspension, braking or steering or something like that at some point.'

'Then we're all set. Shall we go and see some of our competitors? I hear there are a lot of teams arriving for this rally.'

'Good idea. Remember to lock the car, you'll never know.' Giancarlo mentioned, while he threw the checklist inside the car. After Daniel locked both doors, and made sure both the boot and engine bay were locked, the two walked away, looking at their competitors for the rally.

Marriott South Beach Hotel, Miami, Florida, USA

Cavourna noticed the two walking up and down the garages and eyed them up suspiciously. He was sitting on the bonnet of his bright red Ferrari Enzo as he waited for his Engineer/ Best Friend to finish messing about with the customized suspension of their Italian super car. He turned to look at the younger woman who was on her back underneath the car

"Remind me why we're here again?" He asked sullenly.
"We're here because the Commissioner thought you could do with a break. Plus you love road racing. So lighten up" She came out from under the car, "Looks fine. Where are we heading for first? She asked, wiping her hands.
"No idea" Cavourna sighed as he looked at the small PDA that was relaying the weather for the next 24 hours.
"Looks like there might be a chance of rain. Are the wipers attached?"
"No, I left them on the boat"
"Funny woman," Cavourna sighed as he watched the pair approach from Van Luxemburg. He grinned,
"Come to see a real car?" He asked, wiping a small part of his car clean.

The roar of an over-sized engine in the distance didn't draw much attention until the 1971 Camaro SS threw itself into the parking lot of the garage itself, the driver cranking the steering wheel and basically standing on the gas pedal to send the beautiful vehicle into a series of donuts before throwing it in reverse and sending it speeding into the garage itself, and ripping upwards on the e-brake to put the Camaro into a barely-controlled 360-degree spin that placed it perfectly between two other vehicles before the driver shut the engine off.

The tinted windows were nearly opaque, but one could make out shapes moving within. The driver didn't bother opening the door, instead snaking himself out of the window after he'd rolled it down, but not because the door was broken. On the contrary, the door worked fine, he'd just watched an episode too many of the Dukes of Hazzard and figured it was the right way to exit a speed machine.

The driver was an odd-looking one, even by Argonian standards. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a heavy leather jacket over a black t-shirt seemed appropriate for the vehicle, but the WWI-era leather pilots beanie and oversized welding goggles made him cut a somewhat comical figure. His co-pilot wasn't much of an improvement. His headgear resembled the bastard child of a WWI German Kaiser-style helmet and a Hell's Angels steel kettle, and the outfit was worse. He'd chosen a pair of camoflodge pants with a white tank top and a shoulder holster that held a large revolver...

"What the Hell are you doing?"

The driver, Zak Hekker, the one with the leather beanie tugged down over his head, posed the question to his co-pilot, although that seemed a little odd seeing as how he'd nearly wrecked their vehicle upwards of ten times on the way over here...

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

The co-pilot, Reenzo Hekker, the one wearing the, well, thing on his head, responded...

"The gun, dumbass... Put it away. We don't need the fuzz up our asses quite yet..."

"You're one to talk, asshole, doing donuts in the parking lot is a great way to keep a low profile..."

"Fine, then I'll go check us in. Watch the car, will you?"

"I'm not retarded. It's a given that I'd watch the car. What do you think the gun's for?"

"It's hard telling with you, Reenzo..."

Their little discussion over, Zak made his way over to the registration table to sign in while Reenzo posted himself in front of their ride, leaning on the hood. As an afterthought he reached into the car and grabbed a brown leather bomber's jacket and threw it on over his firearm. While an odd choice for the Miami heat, their homeland was a consistent 96 degrees with close to 100% humidity nearly year-round. A heavy jacket wasn't going to phase him much...

Parking Garage - a few cars down from one 1971 Camaro SS and it's co- pilot

"Where is Sophy?" Susan, most often called Shug by her freinds, wailed as she straighted up from looking deep into the limmo's dark interior.

"I swear that woman could get lost in the middle of no- where, but if she's not in there, and I have the keys to the suite, there is but one other place to find her." Shelly said as she made sure the blouse was tucked in just so. For an old broad I look just fiiineShe thought smugly as she checked herself in the rearview mirror...There was a reason she was the double for a very famous actess I work hard for a face and bod that looks better than Hers does!

and chorused along with Susan

"Where the booze is!"

The pair laughed and finished locking up the stretched limmo. Though all that took was a touch of a key fob.

"Gods the things you can do these days with a push of a button." Shelly commented to Shug as they walked away from the one of a kind stretched Ferrari 360 Modena.

'You have all the little gizmos in that bag?" Shug asked a touch anxiously, as she eyed the oversized Coach leather messenger bag. It cost over a thousand dollars and the gizmos inside it cost several thousand more.

"Yep, every single one that we were suggested by that cute little man at the Car Toyz store. He gave us such a nice discount too!" Shelly smiled at the rough looking man standing mext to something she she was sure she had seen Burt driving many years ago. "Hold on a min Shug, that looks like one of the bodyguards Burt-baby used to haul around with him, and that car he just luuuurved to drive.."

She sashayed, her high heels tapping rythmically on the hard, smooth concrete of the parking garage, to where the leather jacketed man stood. Pushing her perscription sunglasses- they were so fab, lightened where it was dark and got darker where it was light- up as little to see better...

"Hey there, is Burt Baby around? OMG! Are you doing a Creature from the Black Lagoon reprise? Do they need any walk on bits done. Shug can scream with the best of them....Shug, get over here and look at this make up it's fabulous! Tell me who is directing Woo? OMG!! Woo is here Shu, did you hear that!"

http://img176.imageshack.us/img176/8884/css1bz2.jpg

Registry Table, Marriott South Beach Hotel

"Hi!" The womans smiled died a little then came back from force of long habit "You're Mister Zak Hekker? From Argonia? Yes..ah, yes... we have your reservation packet right here." The woman's eyes were huge, but then who could blame her. She never met an Argonian before...

Much less one wearing... well she didn't quite know what to call what was on top of his finned eared head..

"I'll take care of this Betty" Jonnie Lee who had met Argonian's before stepped into the breach.

Betty was all too glad to let her. She would much rather stare open mouthed at the famous movie star that had just sauntered in from the still open bar, a flute of champagne in one hand. "Oh my, oh my" Betty stuttered, jumping to her feet and rushing over with the first piece of paper she could snatch up.

Jonnni Lea followed her with her eyes for a moment, chuckled and turned back to the Argonian, one Zak Hekker his papers proclaimed him to be.

"You know you're going to get that reaction from most every one. Hats like that aren't any too common. Might get ripped off iff'n you're not careful." Her voice was matter of fact, but one might have the sneaking suspiciion that deep inside she was laughing.

Zak wasn't surprised at her reaction, she'd have acted that way even if he wasn't dressed like he was. It it went, so would his fin-ears, as he'd had to cut holes in the thing to get it to fit right. He did, however, think he did it justice...

"Yeah, I'm aware. But I'd like to see someone try. You know who I am, yet I don't know you and that annoys me. You are?"

He'd caught her pathetic attempt at comedy, which apparently wasn't one of her strong suits, but the Hekker clan wasn't known for a sense of humor, or sanity for that matter. Of the three surviving sons not a one could be called 'stable'. Zak and Reenzo had gone from firefights to street racing and Edikian, otherwise known as 'Crazy Eddie' had gone from building explosives and guns for the Insurgency to doing the exact same thing for anyone who'd buy what he built, and he was making quite a living doing it...

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Reenzo didn't much like human women, or humans at all for that matter...

"Go away. I'm not in the mood..."

He might get to the point that he would see how well she could scream, provided she didn't follow his simple request...

Registry Table, Marriott South Beach Hotel

"Yeah, I'm aware. But I'd like to see someone try. You know who I am, yet I don't know you and that annoys me. You are?"

"Front Runner Automotive" Jonni Lea wasn't going to give him her name if she could avoid it. She bared her teeth at the Argonian in what would barely be described as a smile. Jonnie Lea wasn't being funny, nor attempting comedy. Pettimores didn't tend to do either. What they did was supply a sizeable percentage of the world's less legitimate operators with weapons of better than average quality...

"Just helping out with the registration." She held the packet up with his and his brother's names on it for him to take, and pointed out the card keys tucked inside. "Your room listing is there, and here are your card keys. Try to remember this isn't the Black Marsh. Post position drawing is at breakfast,. six thirty sharp, and the first out is at seven. Have a nice rally."

He shouldn't be surprized to see the very discrete bulge of a shoulder rig. Her jacket was well tailored, specifically for such, but he was used to noticing even the slightest hint. But she also carried herself as if wearing was something she did constantly, an every day thing that was second nature.

http://www.atddm.com/ptmore.gif

Parking Garage -1971 Camaro SS and it's co- pilot

"Go away. I'm not in the mood..."

"Well" Shelley huffed 'No need to get uppity young man. Such manners won't get you many parts in the movies, or gigs as a bodyguard." With a sniff she strode off, leaving the Argonian without a backwayrd look.

"I swear to you Shug, young people today, such an absolute loss. NO manners, no thinking of the future. What are they going to do in their old age?' She shuddered as the pair headed into the hotel "End up in old folks home with out a penny to their names. And Social Security..." Her vfoice vamished in the cold Miami predawn air...

Reenzo didn't say anything in return, in truth he was probably about as old as they were, if not then he'd live that much longer provided there wasn't a firey crash on the horizon...

Zak wasn't quite done with the human woman he was talking with, either...

"You'll excuse me if I don't let you leave quite yet..."

There was a cold gleam in his eyes, he'd seen her piece, and knew what came along with carrying something like that, not that it was especially hard to get a CC permit in Florida. She wasn't private security, at least not the corporate sort. He stepped in a little closer...

"You look familiar. I believe you might have dealt with our third sibling at some point or another. He's well-connected as far as underworld gun-runners go..."

The comment wasn't much more than a whisper, and having said his piece he leaned back out again and waited. He was sure she looked familiar. Edikian had many friends with connections, everything from off-brand soda through name-brand clothing and most extensively with firearms and explosives of all sorts. To top it all off, the woman was lousy with the scent of firearms, the metallic-tasting combination of spent powder, lubricants and steel that didn't smell like anything else, he'd used it to track Modernist soldiers in the Black Marsh for nearly a decade and knew the scent well. There was also a hint of marijuana on her somewhere, but he couldn't determine if it was a residue scent or if she actually had some on her at that very moment...

Registry Table, Marriott South Beach Hotel

"You look familiar. I believe you might have dealt with our third sibling at some point or another. He's well-connected as far as underworld gun-runners go..."

Jonni Lea' eyes flicked over him, and dug into her most excellent memory. "Edikian, Crazy Eddie? Make one hell of a wetlands specialized I.E.D." Her voice was just as low as his "We took orders and delivered a few here and there. Jonni Lea Pettimore." She offered a hand. "Oh and do you need paper? I can line you up some that will stand inspection. I'd hate for a customer to end up with Imperial Entanglements." It wouldn't be cheap, but she might decide to give him a discount, if he proved to be reasonable.

http://www.atddm.com/ptmore.gif

"Sophy, there you are? Did you save some for us" Shelley caroled as she and Shug swooped down upon Sophie as the registration lady, BGetty was besieging her for yet another autogrph...and Sophie was just tiddly enough to keep on signing...

"My dears! Of course there's more bubbly. I bought ten Magnums just to be sure." Sophie spun in place, the flute of champagne held above her head and giggled outrageously. Camera flshes went off as many a fan boy whooped at catching Sophia Loren drunk in Miami...Though Sophie made a good living off of looking like the famous actress, she wasn't...

All three made good, if erratic livings looking like famous actress. They had fun doing it, and to them that was whqat was far more important than money.

Arm in arm they strolled, heads high in to the bar, calling for glasses of the high priced vintage.

The blond had been easy. It had only taken two rounds of the Soulja Boy to impress her. It wasn't something white guys could do well. The brunette had been a bit harder. It had taken two martinis, a quick sweep of the club, and allowing her in on a conversation with one of his suppliers.

Jason "Hollywood" Banks looked down on the two girls as early morning light poured into the hotel room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he pushed up into a sitting position.

"Aight girls, get up." It wasn't a request, or an order, just him saying for them to get up. "I gotta get to South Beach."

The house wasn't is, it belonged to one of his clients, a regular who went to Imitora to pick up a fast car or two on a bi monthly basis. The client was out in Italy or Portugal or Spain or one of those places right now playing golf with someone who made enough money to buy a small country, debt and all.

The two girls barely stirred, one of them mumbling something about not being able to walk right for a week. Hollywood shrugged, crawled out of the bed, and pulled on his jeans. Retrieving his wallet, he unfolded a handful of bills and dropped them on the table. "I can't fit both ya'll in the Porsche, so, uh, theres some taxi fare."

He snatched up the duffel bag sitting next to the bed, and pulled out a teeshirt. It was white, and on the front was the outline of a tricycle, and underneath in scraggly writing "Chicks Dig my Ride."

Moments later he was out in the garage. He tossed the bag on the seat, the foot well of the passenger side held a cooler full of Gatorade, Five Hour Energy, Skittles, and a few baggies of cash for "emergency situations". The P Car barked to life, rumbled for a minute as it warmed up, and then, with precision and grace befitting of a German performance car, it slipped down out the drive way and on to the street. He looked up as one of the girls, still topless, walked out of the house, as if to come after him. Jason just waved, slipped the gear shift into first, and dropped the clutch on a hard rev, leaving a long smoky burn out behind him.

It wasn't much later when he pulled into the parking garage. He found a spot near a stretched Ferrari, with a Lambo on the other side of him, and he exited the 996. The car kept running for a few seconds as the turbo timer let the twin Garrett units cool for a moment, then shut down.

Taking a quick look around, Jason began to wish he was carrying the Sig229 on him, not in the glove box. There was one Argonian, and where there was one usually more showed up. Some local one be Cubano gang bangers in dropped Impalas rolled up and down the parking lot, and a few less than savory characters seemed to just be standing around. Otherwise, it looked to be a stand up lot. He stretched out, still tired, and made his way to the check in.

Registry Table, Marriott South Beach Hotel

Jason would notice, as he made his way into the hotel ,that there was security about, and that the Cubanos got one free pass through before being made highly unwelcome. The apparently 'unsavory' types were also, once he got a better look, non uniformed security. Somebody had laid out hefty fundage on large amounts of very discrete, top of the line security. But then again given the hotel they were staying at, such was to be expected.

An semi homey, but very competent looking lady - her name tag read Betty looked up with a smile as Jason approached the Rally's Check In desk.

"And how can I help you sir?" She chirpped eagerly, as she moved aside a napkin with a nearly illegible scrawl on it.

http://img184.imageshack.us/img184/1586/jasonsc4.th.jpg (http://img184.imageshack.us/my.php?image=jasonsc4.jpg)

In the porche cochere drop off of the hotel, two ice crean suited individuals esed out of a ...The door man blinked a few times, but waved a parking valet over...yes the Enzo wws definitely pink.

"Dahlink please make sure that I don't find any scratches, dents, dings or dirt, or I will break your toes" The driver said with a sniff s he dropped the keys, expecting the vallet to catch them. Not looking pack he and his partner sauntered onto the lobby of the hotel taking the racous partying in with a distainful sniff.

"Careful Rolf, we don't want to get out suits mussed." The driver commanded as he bgan making his way over to the registration table.

"Absolutely Vincent" Rolf fluttered his eyelashed, and stuck close to gthe taller man.

http://img120.imageshack.us/img120/5941/carz1zs7.th.jpg (http://img120.imageshack.us/my.php?image=carz1zs7.jpg) Some of the other cars in the Rally...

Both Baer and Monteluci had also seen the Alversians with their Enzo, and walked over to the red sportscar.

'Ours is as much as a real car as yours is... It's just a bit older.' Monteluci grinned.

'The Enzo is an excellent car. I've had the pleasure of being able to drive Maserati MC12's in a pair of endurance races, and they are really good. In some way, it is strange that they forbade Enzo's from participating in races because the rear spoiler was adjustable. Well, nevermind.' Baer said, looking both at the car and it's passengers.

'Anyways, are you guys ready for the rally? I heard this is going to be quite an event, a lot of cars are coming to Miami for the start of the rally. Ofcourse, a few won't make it to the finish, and we are one of those teams that will never be first, unless everyone drops out of the race. But I guess you can end high up in the rankings. The only thing you'll have is blistered bottoms. The ride in your Enzo isn't as comfy as ours in the SM.'

Monteluci now laughed out loud, even though Baer tried to keep him under control for a bit.

Jason gave Betty a quick once over. She was good looking enough, youngish, and seemed like she would know a trick or two. But then again, he wasn't here for any ass. That could come later.

"Yeah. Name's Jason Banks, I'm here to check in for the rally and all that fun stuff. 'Least I'm thinking I'm in the right place."

He dug around in his back pocket, pulling out the money clip wallet combo, and tugged out the expense card and his driver's license. On the other side with the clip, a large fold of cash was tucked nicely against the leather. It was a mix of US currency, ranging from tens to a few hundreds, and a good slip of everything in between. Somewhere in the back of his head he was slowly becoming more secure with the security on site. He would have felt better had there been a better turn out of Imitorans, but besides a team from Angry Triangle showing up with an RX8 and a Pagani or two with Imitoran plates, he seemed to be the only one.

"And is there a decent auto parts store near by?"

Registry Table, Marriott South Beach Hotel

"Well excuse me, I think we were here first, Mr. Not-as- Smooth-as-he-thinks" Vincent said waspishly, as he tried to cut in front of the man who was drooling over that disgusting female. "I mean some people have no couth at all." He added with a sniff. His five thousand dollar bespoke suite fit him like a glove as did Rolf's. From top to bottom they screamed money...

'Least I'm thinking I'm in the right place

Betty ignored the two to smile up at Jason 'Oh yes you are in the right spot"

However a few feet away a blonde talking quietly with an Argonian in a weird ass hat stopped and looked toward the registration table, alert for any trouble.

"Oh my I am willing to guess he drives a 'kickem up' truck" Rolf said loudly which made Vincent snicker equally loudly.

Betty opened a brochure, showing it to Jason. "Here in the Diva Conference room on the second floor. Miami Automotive Specialists have a branch temporarily open, and anything they don't have here, they have a driver standing by to bring from their warehouse. I'm told they are the most highly recommended in the city." Betty said helpfully. She had taken a dislike to Vincent and Rolf from the moment they'd strolled up- after Mr. Banks had already arrived.

"And here's your registration packet with all papers and information, plus your card key to your reserved room."

Zak nodded slowly, pleased he'd found a friend of the family, so to speak...

"You'd be correct. And for now, I don't think we'll be needing any papers, we've got nothing but a few unregistered firearms and none of them are BATF restricted. Eddie is usually discreet about his work and where he sends it, despite his 'tendencies'. He's working some sort of heist job right now, so he's a little busy if you or your 'organization' have need of anything..."

Abruptly he moved past her, brushing her left shoulder and dropping something into her coat pocket...

"It was a pleasure, Ms. Pettimoore..."

The comment was of the over-the-shoulder variety as Zak made his way back to the car...

"What the Hell was that all about?"

Reenzo was eager to get going...

"It's a small world, Enzo, we've got a family friend about..."

"Really? Who?"

"A friend of Edikian's. She's quite the fan of his explosives work..."

"Doesn't surprise me, the crazy bastard's always trying to make a mess..."

He wasn't going to be too happy about not being able to get on the road today, but he didn't have much of a choice...

"We aren't leaving today, either. Put that damn helmet of yours back in the car and let's check out out accomodations..."

"Fine by me..."

Reenzo placed his odd-looking head-gear into the passenger seat, Zak doing the same with his pilot-headgear-thing and goggles before the two of them entered the hotel via the back entrance to avoid drawing too much attention to themselves...

Sienna Conference Room, Marriott South Beach Hotel Second floor

"Okay, is every one up for their section of the shoot?" A lanky eighteen year old looked over his fifty person strong core crew. He and his twin had organized the filming section of the crew with the help of some older professionals. They'd be using a combination of bikes, cars, a hummer or two and three helicopters.

Elsewhere in the large room, next door to the Diva Confrence room where the arutoparts store was...

Steve Kan, outta Texas - The Man to go to about rotary tunes- was talking softly with the seven racers who were driving Mazdas, and part of his informal 'Gotham Racing Group'.

Michizo Niikura; CEO of MINE had come over to see how some of his companies work was fareing in the US, especially since a new 2009 Nissan GTR -with it's hyper-sensitive ECU and an electronically-limited top speed of just 111.8 mph- was entered in the race. He was also here for the grand opening of MINE's first non Japanese House, and offering their tuning products in the US... At the moment he was deep in an animated discussion with the driver of the MINE's car, while several journalists waited for an interview. He'd be flying out to LA, where the MINE's shop would be opening, and he'd be presenting the winners cup at the end of it all banquet.

A dark blue Ferrari 550 Maranello rolled towards the main entrance of the Marriott South Beach Hotel, driving the exotic car was Andre Acosta, at his side the beautiful Christina Gordan.

Hotel:
http://image.pegs.com/images/MC/MIAMB/miamb_b1.jpg

Andres ride:

http://www.ferraricluboflasvegas.com/cars/Duncan_Lee_550_Maranello.jpg

The Ferrari stopped in front of the doormen, the car doors were opened for Andre and Christina,

"Hello, why thank you!" She said getting out of the car

Andre pulled his door shut on the waiting valet...

"Get us cheaked in and see to the registration desk would you Christina? i will park the car"

Valet had finished removing their bags from the trunk and had just shut it when Andre drove off not allowing Christina time to respond,

"Ughh, son of a ..." she let her words trail off

She stormed off into the hotel followed by a man with their bags in hand. Christina got the rooms, seperate rooms, then proceeded to the registration desk.....

"Uhh, hi?"

Christina:
http://blogsimages.skynet.be/images/000/746/734_825cf6dd1f303b05be7703c149cfdf24.jpg

Andre parked the Ferrari around the side of the building. Two girls on roller blades wearing bikini's stopped to talk to him as he exited the car,

"Hey, do you have the time?"

Andre smiled and replied,

"The time yes, the time to talk to you" He smiled

What a cheezy line, andre...FUCK he thought, but..it don't matter what i say..im driving a Ferrari

The two girls giggled and the three got into a conversation about the 550, Andre leaned on the drivers door and pulled out a pair of aviator glasses placing them on his face.

I was hanging at Kan's shop on Saturday. Trust me, ya'll don't want none of what he's working on right now...shudders. The turbo was larger than the engine.

Jason thanked the receptionist, handing her a sizable tip, along with one of his Stage 10 cards. "Give me a call sometime. I could always use a good receptionist, especially with some of the people I have to deal with."

He turned, and did something unexpected of an Imitora. There was plenty he could of used. A pink Ferrari? Well money doesn't buy taste. Uh, nice car, I guess its proof that money and aesthetic ability isn't always hand in hand. Or possibly... Pink car? Fag.

But no, he turned, and simply side stepped the two. He had better things to do with his time then entering a battle of wits with these two. It wouldn't have been fair for them, anyways. Instead, he made his way over to the elevator, and up to the conference room. He chose to hob nob and elbow rub at a different time, there would be room for that later.

Reaching the Miami Automotive booth, he quickly took stock of what he needed. A few extra sets of plugs, octane booster if he couldn't get his hands on 93 pump (which the car had been tuned for), extra tire sealant, and a few small tools and toys that would help in the long haul.

Signing off on the payment, the next step was to his room, where he made sure to get a real shower, and changed into some less youthful clothing. He kept the "Chicks Dig my Ride" shirt, but tucked it into a clean pair of dark blue jeans, and grabbed an appropriately wrinkled (as is the style) white button down. He left it untucked, and grabbed finally a casual black jacket. A quick bit of work with a comb, and he was down stairs in thirty minutes, making his way back out to the garage.

He eyed someone on the right side of attractive checking in, most likely for the race. He would make it a point to talk to her later, and finished the trip out to the garage to see the competition.

Registry Table, Marriott South Beach Hotel

The desk had let Ms Gordan know that the Rally had already booked rooms for herself and her driver. and that she could pick up the room keys at the Registry Table.

However the Registry table seemed a little swamped with a handsome man being assisted by a lady in the officail polo of the rally, her name tag read Betty, and standing in line were a fair of ice cream suited ...men...trying to force their way to the desk past the man, and making waspish comments about him.

"Uhh, hi?"

A slender blonde lady (http://www.atddm.com/km.jpg) in a well tailored pantsuit was moving in on the unrully pair, but turned to survey the semi lost looking young lady who'd appraoched the brangle..

"Hi! How can I help you? It looks as if Betty's a little swamped." Jonni Lea smiled at Christina

http://www.atddm.com/ptmore.gif

Parking Garage

"Hey Mister, Can I get a shot of your car?' A tall teen (http://www.atddm.com/twins.jpg) in an olive drab light weight army jacket over a Rally Polo shirt jogged up to the dark blue Ferrari 550 Maranello where it's fdriver ws deep in conversation with a pair of kini clad locals. "You're the only Maranello here tonight and wow! It's awesome looking." He held up the top of the line Nikon D200 "My brother and I are digitalizing the Rally"

Afew people were ahead of Christina as she waited to be served, a guy strolled by and gave her an obvious glance,

Kinda cute... She thought

Christina wore a white Gucci sun dress, with the matching handbag and shoes, she wore Armani diamonds perfume, Christina knew she could turn any mans head when ever she pleased...BUT she was not that type of girl. Christina was used to getting down and dirty, she loved doing her time in the armed forces, everything about it, the smell of diesel, the mud dust, and the greese... it was a blast.

"Hi! How can I help you? It looks as if Betty's a little swamped." Jonni Lea smiled at Christina

"Hi, Christina Gordan and Andre Acosta, Ferrari 550 Marenello"

She flashed a bright perfect smile.

Outside....

Hey Mister, Can I get a shot of your car?' A tall teen in an olive drab light weight army jacket over a Rally Polo shirt jogged up to the dark blue Ferrari 550 Maranello where it's fdriver ws deep in conversation with a pair of kini clad locals. "You're the only Maranello here tonight and wow! It's awesome looking." He held up the top of the line Nikon D200 "My brother and I are digitalizing the Rally"

Andre looked at the teenager and replied,

"Yeah, sure...you want me and the girls in the picture aswell?"

He gestured towards the Maranello,

"Thats cool man, what am i up against?"

Registry Table, Marriott South Beach Hotel

"Hi, Christina Gordan and Andre Acosta, Ferrari 550 Marenello"

"Pleased to meet you" Jonni Lea's accept wasn't straight southern, but tinged with the accent of deep in the Tennessee mountains. She sorted briskly through the stacks of thick folders "Here you go Christina. You and Mister Acosta are on the fifth floor, rooms side by side. Breakfast is in about three hours, six thirty and thats when they'll draw starting positioons with the first out set for nine a.m. They just changed the time as so many are still checking in."

She handed Christina the thick books and hotel room car keys. "And it sounds as if someone is treating every one in the Deco Bar to Mimosa's and Champagne, if you feel like a bit of bubbly."

Cheers and laughter cresendoed from the Deco Bar that opened on to the lobby....

Parking Garage

"Thats cool man, what am i up against?"

Sure I'll be bglad to take soe with ya'll in them! Up against? Hey I think some one had a sale on pink paint." The kid began snapping away, with no small skill, lining up his shots.

"Besides a pint 'Gatti that looks like peptol bismol got barffed all over it, there a pair of fruitcakes in a pink Enzo. There's a classy one a few down, but pink? Oh give me a break!"

He backed up for a few different angles "There's a lambo or two, a Rolls, several Mazda's outta Texas, and MINE's brought over one hella souped up GTR, and there are two different cars who'se bodies are made out of wood. One's kinda wierd looking, but the other is some sort of really rare classic."

He saw the driver of the Porsche out of Imitora enter the garage and excused himself with a "Best of luck to ya" and headed over to the Imitoran.

"Hey, Mister, can I get some pic's of your Porsche? That paint job is slick!"

http://www.atddm.com/ptmore.gif

The Deco Bar

"Okay ladies, we've convinced every one that I'm 'The Lush', you're 'The Sex Bomb' and you're 'The Ditz' and it's all golden" Sophy said under her breeath as she caught Shelly's and Shug's eyes. "And here comes out Mark now..."

With huge, heavily lashed eyes, the senior member of the Seven Seas - Ocean's Eleven, Twelve, and Thirteen may have just been movies, but the most wanted con team in the world; known among themselves as 'the Seven Seas' was in full flower - looked up at the man there were preparing to fleece out of nearly fifty million dollars, not to mention his pride...

"Why Mister Turner, right on time. Might I introduce Agents Marcdoni and Rand."

"Oh this is how you are going to fake them out" the man said in an excited whisper. "Thats awesome, go through it looking like famous actresses"

"Yes it gives us perfect deniability, but please" Sophy said sternly 'Keep your voice down. Who knows who may be listening!"

Shug and Shelly nodded each playing her part.

Mr. Turner looked chasened and fought took keep his voice low enough so that it went no further than the booth they were sitting in...

The two Argonians sequestered themselves in their room for the night, preferring to rest and catch the edge over the others who would probably spend the night drinking themselves to death. There was a brief squabble after Zak smashed his brother Reenzo upside the head with the ice bucket for spinning the cylinder of his revolver a few too many times, but soon both decided they ought to save the rage for tomorrow and instead watch whatever was on the provided HBO...

Jason nodded at the kid with the camera, stepping aside to make sure he himself wasn't in the picture. He had reasons for it, but they were just that, his reasons. He kept his distance as the camera kid did his work, and then moved back up.

"Lemme see that," he said, taking the digi cam, and began flipping through the pictures. His reaction was a few shrugs, a couple nods, and one or two side to side shakes. He kept clicking through, the camera beeping every time. A few pictures he stopped to study. After another minute, he handed the camera back to the kid. He snapped a card out of his jacket pocket, and handed it to him.

"You got talent. The question is do you have the skill? Give me a shout when this is done. We can figure that out and maybe work something out."

Jason went back to browsing the selection of cars he would be up against, taking note where note was due. There were a good selection of cars that would hit that second century mark, and on the open highways to far outside any county to care, and even then its not like the Crown Vics that struggled past 120 would be any match.

"You got talent. The question is do you have the skill? Give me a shout when this is done. We can figure that out and maybe work something out."

"My brother and I already have scholarship offers from SCAD, Cornell and Columbia, but watch what we put out at the closing banquet, and remember the names Davey and Robby Pettitmore" The teen reclaimed his camera, "But you never know. Hey gotta haul, something interesting has turned in" He presses a finger lightly to the ear piece and muttered something into the tiny mike discretely clipped to his jacket. "Best of luck to you" He headed off at a gound eating lope.

The cars Jason looked over were indeed a mix, some ihnteresting some not, but his perusal was interupted by a soft voiced "Hey Mister, you don't see a big, burly pissed off kinda looking jerk do ya?"

Jason nodded at the names. They didn't mean much to him, but mostly as he made it a point to quickly dismiss any one who based their entire resume on a degree granting institution. Something about horses and such.

Still, if it was decent, he would contemplate sending a recruiter. However, he would have to finish the race first, and then see what the kids could put together.

He was perusing the engine bay of rather stockish looking C6 Corvette, but the oil return lines were the give away. It was most likely an STS system, the twin turbos mounted far back on the exhaust. The sound of the cammed engine, rumbling softly but powerfully, was interrupted by a softer and less powerful voice.

Hey Mister, you don't see a big, burly pissed off kinda looking jerk do ya?

Jason kept an eye on the motor while he thought for a moment if he had indeed seen anyone. "Non more than the Argonians," he said, turning.

"Naw they just have scales and tails. This guy has Doc Martin toe stompers, knobby knees with pants falling down around them and a rather obvious bulge under one arm." The voice was followed by a figure moving somewhat out from the shadows and looking around apprehensively. She didn't look more than twenty at best, and like she'd been swimming - a observation enhanced by her soaking wet hair and minimal clothes, if what she had one could be considered clothes. "And in his pants" The last in a disgusted voice that could barely be heard.

"Damn drunk asshole." The girl? young woman? muttered more loudlyas she tried to finger comb her hair into some semblance of neat while looking around anxiously.

http://img174.imageshack.us/img174/8283/star1wj4.th.jpg (http://img174.imageshack.us/my.php?image=star1wj4.jpg)

Hollywood gave the girl a good look, and nodded. The wet, fresh out of the pool look worked for her, even though she looked a bit on the young side. However, he could tell from her face that she hadn't exactly been kicking around underwater in her clothes for shits and giggles, but was a bit more serious.

"Nah," he said, after hearing her description. "Haven't seen anyone like that. Though, I used to wear Docs when I was in high school, does that preclude me from asking what the situation is?"

He pointed over to the black P Car. "Thats mine over there. I might have an extra towel or something tossed in there for fuel spills or something. I can lend one out no problemo."

"Thanks, I've got one in my duffle, but a second would be nice" She retreated a moment and returened with a very large duffle bag dragging behind her, stuffed to the brim.

She followed him over to the gleaming black Porsche "Oh pretty!" Then she admitted "I don't know much about cars, save that I like looking at nice ones"

Pulling out a towel from the top of the bag, she wrapped it around herself but it was more for warmth- at four am in the winter even Miami got chilly on the waterfront - than out of modesty. "He's my dad's choice of an "appropriate boyfriend", but my dad doesn't know jack." She snorted contemptuously "And Jack's his damn name. Though it oughta be jackass."

"He entered the rally, and I was going to ride with him, but he got kicked out and decided that I needed to play bed bunny cause of that. As if I'd go to bed with an over weight gorilla like him." She sniffed, but gave Jason an admiring once over.

"The security came and hauled him off when he threw a fit, but he came back and was stalking me" She looked around apprehensively once more, still rattled, but trying not to show it. "You wouldn't be willing to walk me up to my room would ya? They gave me a different room after he got kicked out, but I don't know if he's come back again"

Digging around the Porsche, Jason produced a white towel and tossed it to her. It was one of the few clean ones, the rest having been used a number of times in preparation of the car. While digging around, he also popped open the glove box, removed the Sig and its clip on holster, and tucked it discretely into his waist band.

Stepping away from the car and closing the door, he thumbed the key fob, and the single chirp satisfied him to know the alarm was set. If it hadn't been the chirp, then the single flash of the headlights would have done the trick.

You wouldn't be willing to walk me up to my room would ya? They gave me a different room after he got kicked out, but I don't know if he's come back again.

"No problem," he replied. "I think I can handle it. I tend to hang around some tough people, my company has become the new go to people for all the rappers and metal heads. This guy doesn't sound like he's any different."

He held out his hand, and smiled. "Jason Banks. Most of the people I know call my Hollywood. The others just call me Banks."

Robby caught up with the two Van Luxemburgians as they wandered through looking over the competetion. And there was plenty for them to look at ranging from several very excellently maintained classics from the thirties and forties, to sleekly sexy super cars of modern vintage, and even a pink Veryon, that over did even the peptolbismol pink Enzo, thaqt the vallets were laughing over...

"Hi, Scuse me I haven't gotten any shots of your Citroën, and it's the only one entered in the Rally." He suddenly remembered his manners. "I'm Robert Pettimore, and I'm part of the official rally photographers crew. "

He pulled his army jacket aside so the Van Luxembergian's could see his photo ID and the Rally polo shirt that he wore. What could be seen of it that is beneath the tan photographers vest that bulged with extra lenses and other paraphanelia.

The two men halted, and looked at the photographer now in front of them. Glancing over the ID, Monteluci nodded. However, Baer spoke first.

'That's OK. Follow us, we'll take you to the car.'

The pair of Van Luxemburgers turned around, and walked back to their car, after which Baer unlocked it and got inside. With a somewhat dampened roar, the engine came to life, and Daniel put the car into reverse. Meanwhile, the hydropneumatic suspension also came to life, the pump began to inject the fluid into the suspension and the vehicle slowly rose to it's normal ride height.

Then, the vehicle slowly backed up out of it's parking spot, and made a turn, demonstrating the then-innovative adaptive cornering lights. The wheels automatically returned to the center wheel position, assisted by the hydropneumatics, before Baer cut the engine and got out of the vehicle.

'There you go, mate. If you've got any questions, you're always welcome' Baer spoke, while he put the keys back in his pocket, leaving the doors unlocked.

Robby chuckled as he watched the car rise and fall "No questions for the moment, but you know that had to have been what gave all the greasers the idea of hip hop mobiles."

He crouched to get better angles of the classic car, and ran off a string of shots.

His eyes flicked to a semi bedraggled woman walking with the man who's Porsche he'd shot earlier. She hadn't been there then but he made mental notes to get shot of her when she cleaned up.

Then he remembered the rukus earlier with some asshat threatening his navigator. It wasn't his place to get in security's way, but since he was out and about shooting, he'd keep his own eye out.

That decided he turned back to the Citroën, and the Van Luxenbergeners "If I remember correctly you all are being sponsored by your...Duke, right? What it like to have such support?"

He pulled a pen and battered note pad out of a pocket, as well as activating his microrecorder. Quotes were always good to toss in.

OOC: Decided to introduce a bit of security for my drivers. With participants acting trigger-happy and carrying all sorts of weaponry, you'll never know.


'Well, it's a very useful type of support. He's got a huge collection of cars and a magazine of car parts that seems to be endless. If something in this car breaks down that's too hard for us to repair, we can have a mechanic with the correct parts, doesn't matter how rare they are, well within 24 hours. That's the advantage of being supported by a huge budget.' Monteluci said, while leaning against a pole with his arms crossed before his chest.

'Another thing is security. I don't know if you've been outside yet, but there's a car on Van Luxemburger plates there. That's all I'll say.' Baer added to his colleague's answer.

Outside the hotel

It was the only Monteluci, standing lonely outside the hotel, parked inbetween several other cars while having a good view on the hotel's main entrance.

Inside, two men occupied the front seats, their eyes fixed on the entrance. An opened glove box reveals a pair of binoculars, aswell as a Beretta PM12 submachinegun. If one would look closely, he could see that both occupants were armed with SIG-Sauer P250 pistols, and that two pieces of body armour (protective vests) lay around the rear seat.

If that same person had some understanding of the Van Luxemburger automobile industry, he would see it was a Monteluci Duca SFS (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13204227&postcount=5), a 400 horsepower strong V8 saloon car. It was a relatively rare car, especially in the US, and the Van Luxemburger license plates (L-L-GH89176) made it even more of an askward appearance.

Suddenly, the vehicle woke up, the powerful racing pedigree V8 producing a might roar. Seconds later, the vehicle swiftly exited it's parking space and accelerated onto the road, leaving a sound that could be heard throughout the area.

Both Baer and Monteluci had also seen the Alversians with their Enzo, and walked over to the red sportscar.

'Ours is as much as a real car as yours is... It's just a bit older.' Monteluci grinned.

'The Enzo is an excellent car. I've had the pleasure of being able to drive Maserati MC12's in a pair of endurance races, and they are really good. In some way, it is strange that they forbade Enzo's from participating in races because the rear spoiler was adjustable. Well, nevermind.' Baer said, looking both at the car and it's passengers.

'Anyways, are you guys ready for the rally? I heard this is going to be quite an event, a lot of cars are coming to Miami for the start of the rally. Ofcourse, a few won't make it to the finish, and we are one of those teams that will never be first, unless everyone drops out of the race. But I guess you can end high up in the rankings. The only thing you'll have is blistered bottoms. The ride in your Enzo isn't as comfy as ours in the SM.'

Monteluci now laughed out loud, even though Baer tried to keep him under control for a bit.

Cavourna laughed at that,
"I don't really care as I can do the max limit on every freeway between here and the East Coast and I can corner at near enough whatever speed I want. So I won't have time to get an arse-blister" He laughed again,
Ashley quickly stepped in,
"Have you got our first port of call yet?" She asked "We haven't had the time yet to check and see where we're supposed to be going."

"Jason Banks. Most of the people I know call my Hollywood. The others just call me Banks."

She took the prooffered hand and shook it firmly "Grace...Grace Evans. Pleased to meet ya Hollywood"

Grace tucked the towel a little more fimly about her and hoisted the obviously heavy duffle up over her shoulder. Despite being only about five foot six she seemed well able to handle it and started for the hotel proper at a good clip.

"I gotta warn you Jack isn't like those stupid wanna be rappers and such. He's honestly bad people, and has those that will do even dirtier work for him."

She pasued at the exit to the garage and looked about apprehensively before starting across the short distance of the glass walled connecting corridor at a near trot. Grace let out a sigh of relief once they were inside and crossed to the bank of elevators a little more slowly. Though she only relaxed when they were inside the elevator and it was rising to the thrid floor.

Six thirty came far too early for many as the briefly closed Deco Blue Restraunt reopened with a prodigious breakfast buffet laid out. Every thing from soup to nuts - and roast beef, smoked salmon, grilled to order steaks and more in between... Something for every one.

And right in the middle of the restraunt, set on a slightly elivated dias, was the table that held the Time Judges. Those powerful rally officials that would draw and annouce the order of departure.

The Best of the Best, from East 2 West - The Great American Escape -Road Rally

Was about to officially start, and the noise of over three hundred crazed fans, kept out of the restraunt, but filling the lobby and outdoor entertainment area to overflowing... was deafening. Studio quality video cameras, taping from three different vantage points, and several amateur cameras going as well added to the air of excitement.

The Miami police, glad that the rolling headache was close to leaving their area was out in force, ostensibily to provide protction. They had been well paid off to Not give out any tickets - "it would be such negative publicity..." that any number of their more ardent officers had been firmly given the day off...

http://img299.imageshack.us/img299/5594/janein6.th.jpg (http://img299.imageshack.us/my.php?image=janein6.jpg)

Hollywood would discover that 'Grace" cleaned up- or is that dried up - rather well, and looked more like the early mid twenties she claimed - stating that she wasd twenty four- and knew her way around a complicated road atlas and GPS. "I save the money my dad sends me by hitching my way across the country" She explained briefly, though that was about all he learned about her background. Her clothing was of obviously quality- the duffel itself was a top of the line Eagle Creek Centerline Load Warrior LT 30 and the driving mocs she pulled out were also custom, and hand crafted. The watch she wore was an unobtrusive, unflashy, Lady's Omega.

Hollywood retired to his room after dropping off Grace at her room. He napped for just under an hour, catching what little sleep he needed. Spending his entire life awake for sometimes three to four days at a time, all he would need was a short nap.

Grace would find him down in the bar, elbow rubbing with someone who, like many of the racers had more bank than brains. The talk was for production funding for a project that Jason had been working on, and it was going good enough. The ATM was walking off to go discuss the investment with his partner as Grace was walking up.

He turned to face the girl, and tipped the glass of grapefruit juice towards her. "See you cleaned up. I dunno, that whole just climbed out of the swimming pool look was working for you." He looked down and noticed the bag, and the driving shoes she pulled out. "So, you decided to drive after all?" he asked.

So, you decided to drive after all?"

"What am I going to drive? I seriously doubt you would let me behind the wheel of your baby." She gave him a half exasperated look. He'd seemed nice enough, Was he now going to throw a snit because she wore driving mocs?

"And while the whole sopping wet look may have been radioactive for you, it was cold, damp and medusa haired for me. If you don't like the way I look" She shrugged, trying to look indifferent, but her anxious scanning of the noisy, milling crowd gave away her nervousness.

"Look Hollywood, thanks for walking me to my room. That was very kind of you, but I think I'd just better go. I can take care of myself" She tried for cool bravado, but the bleak look in her eyes wasn't that well hidden. "Good luck on the road rally." Grace hoisted the bag up to a more comfortable postion on her shoulder, and turned to go, but first she wanted one more good look through the crowd. Raising up on her tip toes she surveyed the throng carefully.