The orange cars entered the parking lot, the crowd instinctively parting directly through.

The Viper parked directly opposite to Michaels Foxbody, facing it.

The classic Camaro parked directly opposite to Michelle's BRZ, followed by the modern Camaro.

Next to the Camaro parked the ZR2, and next to it finally parked Riley's Mercury.

Michael stood at attention, with the rest of his team behind him, ready to see who or what stepped out of the cars in front of him.

The driver door of the Viper ACR opened first.

Michael was expecting some sort of gang leader or thug to step out, but he was greated with quite the opposite.

A tall, muscular man, who appeared to be in his mid fifties with black, greying hair, clear light blue eyes, and a light beard and mustache that enveloped the lower half of his face stood from the low to the ground sports car.

He wore a blue Hawaiian shirt and worn jeans, as well as leather driving gloves.

"Evening ladies and gentlemen. 'Names Quinn, leader of the 21st Street crew."

He spoke with a calm and deep voice, which had an air of confidence to it along with a slight southern accent.

Quinn reminded Michael of how he pictured is older self in some ways.

"I'm Michael, leader of PDR-"

"JOINT leader..." Michelle quickly added.

"Well, pleased to meet you both. You've been quite the talking point throughout our team, not to mention eating into some of our territory."

"Uh...thanks." Michael said.

"You're welcome. Anyways, I'm looking forward to this race between you and Riley. She ain't gonna go easy on you now... Good luck, son."

Quinn outstretched his hand, and Michael took it. Quinn had a strong firm handshake, which caught Michael off guard.

"Allow me to introduce you to the rest of my crew." Quinn said, motioning to the rest of the team member who had just gotten out of their cars.

"This is Big Tony, you've raced him before." Quinn said motioning to a short incredibly buff looking man in his mid thirties who stood next to the classic Camaro. He wore a T-shirt that had a design which said: The Man ⏫ The Legend ⏬ (let's see how many of you get to joke.)

Big Tony nodded and grunted, and Quinn smiled, and walked over to the owner of the modern Camaro.

"This is my son, Vinnie, he's our circuit racing guy."

Vinnie was like a taller, thinner, version of Quinn, with blonde hair and grey eyes. He wore a black button up shirt and a Fedora. He appeared to be Michael's age.

"Sup." He grumbled, eyeing Michael suspiciously.

Quinn chuckled, and sauntered over to the ZR2, which was owned by a tall muscular woman with black hair, brown eyes, black lipstick and black clothes, who was somewhat pretty.

"This here is Sharon, she's our resident off-road queen, and I know you're thinking she's cute, but she's also the toughest dyke in town so doesn't get any funny ideas."

Sharon glared at Michael. He quickly looked down at his shoes.

Michael shrugged and Quinn moved on to the Mercury.

"I'm sure you two need no introduction."

Riley stood next to her car with her arms crossed. Her mechanic's jumpsuit was clean and zipped up.

"You're going down grease." She said angrily.

Michael stood silently.

"Right, I want a nice clean race between you two." Quinn said.

Michael nodded politely

Riley rolled her eyes and sighed.

"I mean it young lady." Quinn said with a sudden sternness that caught Michael off guard.

Riley stiffened up and nodded.

"Well alright-alright-alright... YALL READY FOR A RACE!?" Quinn shouted.

The crowd of race fans cheered and gathered around.

The crowd parted and Kalinda briskly walked through, holding a burning red flare in each hand over her head.

She tossed them down about 20 feet apart to mark where the starting line would be.

"Right, drivers, I'll need your pink slips." She said.

Riley rummaged through he jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled RA certificate of vehicle ownership. She handed it to Kalinda begrudgingly.

Michael simply tossed Kalinda a spare key to his Mustang.

"That Foxbody is mine. " Riley said, smirking at Michael.

Michael stayed silent, remembering the strategy himself and the team had discussed.

As soon as the car reaches a safe speed, hit the nitrous, then hug the inside line in the tunnel and pray there was no oncoming trains.

Michael walked over to the Foxbody, grabbing his helmet from the hood.

"Goodspeed bro." Nick said somberly.

"If you die, I get your room right?" Michelle said with a grin.

Michael chuckled half heartedly.

Amelia walked up to Michael, and presented him with his jacket.

"Remember what you promised love." She whispered to him.

Michael nodded.

He put his jacket on, and slid the helmet over his head.

He opened the door to the Foxbody, and started it up, it's 302 engine snarling in anticipation of battle.

Across the parking lot, the metallic grumble of the supercharged hemi of Riley's Mercury snarled back at it.

Michael gave his team a thumbs up, and guided the Foxbody forward, parking in the left side of the starting line.

Next to him, on the right side parked the Mercury, revving it's engine, it's mechanical snarl drowning out the crowds cheers.

Michael gazed ahead at the unfamiliar terrain ahead of him.

"Remember, the red button tapped to the steering wheel will trigger the NOS, and you will get an extra 300 horsepower for about 12 seconds." Michael heard Michelle's voice say through the helmets communication system.

"Got it." Michael responded.

He was ready.

Kalinda walked between the two cars, and raised her arms high in the air.

*************