Disclaimer: I own nothing affiliated with the Fast and the Furious, or anything else you may recognise. This is for entertainment purposes only.

AN: Hey all. So you know, I did post this a while ago but I've changed a few minor things and added a few other things. Hopefully, you might like it. This is just the prologue as you can tell, and it doesn't feel very long but there's not much else I wanted to put in it so, yeah. Anyway, see what you think, maybe let me know your thoughts. Tar - Venus.

State of Emergency

By Venus as a Girl

Prologue

"Hey man, I think I've found her."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah - yeah this is definitely the one."

"How's she look?"

"Total babe."

"Awesome. Bring her home."

"You got it."

He hung up his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. Dragging his finger across the black chrome of the bonnet, he soaked up the beauty of the fine specimen of a car. Making his way round to the drivers side, he slid to one knee and pulled out a small bag of tools, finding the instrument he needed he set to work on picking the lock.

Within thirty seconds, he had the door open and was sliding behind the wheel, taking in the smell of the tan leather seats. "Hello baby, you ready for this?" He said, closing the door. He picked out a new tool for the ignition, fast working and professional. Within no time he heard the beastly engine begin to purr and with a roar it came to life in the silence of the night. The sound almost gave him shivers, the creation of such a machine was a thing to be marvelled at. Oh, to be able to acquire something that was basically just materials put together to accomplish speed. It would have literally cost him an arm and a leg, but he was good at what he was doing and if it meant he got to spend some time alone with it, he was happy. He saw a light turn on in the house before him and he smiled to himself - he already had the car.

Readying himself, he revved the engine before putting the car in reverse. With swift movements, he put the car in motion and swung out into the street just as the owner of the expensive vehicle came running out of his house, tall and angry. He would have felt guilty about taking his car with such ease if he didn't have a job to do. Too bad he was so good at what he did.

He threw the car into gear and sped down the street. Hurtling around a corner, he came to a long stretch of road and he put his foot down on the accelerator. Flicking on the stereo, an incessant thumping dance track blasted from the speakers and he curled his nose in disgust. Changing the player to the radio, he searched until he found a rock station and turned it up even higher. This is the fucking rush.

A pair of traffic lights loomed up ahead. He stopped at the red light, realising to his left was a police car. He glanced towards the officers that were giving him curious looks due to the extreme noise coming from the car. He flipped his head at them and they both looked at each other. They must've noticed his slightly shabby exterior, his tattooed arms, and realised that the car clearly did not belong to him. He was getting ready to bail right out of there, checking both ways, but he didn't want to move too quick.

The cop in the passenger seat turned back to him and shouted something at him. He turned down the music, unable to hear what he had said. "I said 'is that the new model?'"

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"Looks like a beauty. How is it to drive?"

"Amazing." Was this guy for real? "Runs like a dream."

"Yeah my father-in-law has an earlier model and he said it was the best decision he ever made. Fucking awesome car, but you know he's like fifty-nine and he looks like an idiot behind the wheel."

"Haha, yeah." He noticed his hand was shaking slightly, so he gripped the wheel tighter. The light changed to amber, and then green and he pointed at them. "Sorry, but I got to run."

"Sure thing. Have fun," said the cop as they slowly pulled ahead of him, turning left as he went straight on.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. He was sure they were going to make him get out of the car and arrest him right there. Of course he wouldn't have given up that easy and would have made them work for their money, but that was besides the point. That had been a close call, closer than he would have liked, but it was pure luck that had meant he hadn't had to start a game of cat and mouse. Mind, it wouldn't have been the first time.

He took it easy, shifting smoothly through the gears. He could sense the power waiting to be unleashed, but now he had to restrain himself. That was a close call, too close really, and he certainly didn't want it to happen again. But it was hard to stay under the radar in such a magnificent machine.

Five minutes later, he pulled up to the warehouse and beeped twice. The door to the compound opened and he slowly drove into the building, cutting the lights as the doors were pulled shut behind him. He stepped out of the car, noting another new car, a twin of the one he had procured, also parked inside, only this one was in red.

"Good job man," came the gravelly voice of his work partner.

"Same goes for you bro," he replied, closing the door. "Looks like it was a good night."

"You got it." His friend smiled, "I think we might just pull this off."

They both looked at the two new cars for the inventory and then turned to each other. Bumping fists and smiling, they exited the building through a smaller side door, leaving the two, almost, brand new Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano's in the dark.

x

Nathaniel Porter, Nate to most, watched behind a mask of hair as more race fans filled the area behind an abandoned warehouse. He leaned casually against his car, silently surveying the area, soaking everything in. He watched the bald guy, Hector he had heard many call him, rush around, meeting and greeting, setting up the races for the night. From what he had seen over the past few weeks, Hector was the go-to guy in this neck of the woods. Everyone who was anyone in the undergound racing world of Los Angeles knew who he was, so it seemed.

Nate was itching to race. He hadn't been in a competative race, with stakes as high as $2000 a pop, since he moved to the area but he had wanted to survey the competition before he entered himself. He had seen it time and time again - some ricer with a semi-good car would think they ruled the world with their 'skills', stupidly believe that they were good enough to face people who had been racing for years. But of course, as soon as they hit the blacktop they would either choke, or start the race well and have their asses handed to them on a silver platter, giving the spectators something to laugh about for another night. It was routine, everybody knew it would happen, but every so often there was one person who would make it through and surprise everyone. His debut in this town was impending, and he'd be damned if anyone was going to stop him. But first thing was first; always survey the competition.

And so he waited.

He himself had been racing for a long time, a good five years, but he wasn't going to enter anything lightly. He was scoping out someone who would be a challenge, he knew he could beat just about anyone that was there, it had taken him all these weeks to work that out. But it was time.

Tonight was the night.

Just by listening to those around him, he had worked out that the fourth racer of the main event for the night had dropped out, so there was a free slot. And he was going to jump straight for it.

Hector was a few cars away at that point, his back facing him. Nate sauntered over to where he was standing, listening intently to the conversation that Hector was having with a small crowd of people.

"I hear there's an opening in a race tonight."

Everyone stopped talking and looked up at this man, who as until now, nobody had even heard speak. Hector turned around slowly to face him, looking him up and down with probing eyes, a bemused smile on his lips. He loved it when a fresh face came to him, begging to be put in a race, throwing down money they'd earnt working in some greasy burger shack over the summer. It amused him when they showed off their modified cars, that probably used to belong to their mother, cars that they probably hadn't even built on with their own hands, just let some poor schmuck of a mechanic slip in a tank of nitrous and some custom rims. They were utterly clueless, but he had no qualms in taking their money from them and watching it go straight into the hands of somebody else.

This guy though, this guy looked different. He'd noticed him around a couple of times - it was kind of hard not to see him, the brooding type, always alone, always watching. He had a strange feeling about him, like he recognised him from somewhere maybe. Or maybe it was the like the first time he'd seen Dominic Toretto - he had a look of sheer determination with a streak of stubborness in his eyes.

"You heard that, pretty boy? What's it to you, huh?"

Nate reversed Hectors tactics, looking him up and down and noting the wedding band that glinted on his finger. "I'd like to be the fourth."

Hector stood up straight, taking a step forwards and trying to maintain his alpha status which Nate seemed to be knocking back. Hector was the guy everyone loved. He was smart and funny and he wasn't the type to get into arguments. But he had a status within the race world, despite him not even being a racer, and at that moment it was being undermined by some guy who nobody knew.

"I've seen you here the past few weeks," Hector began. "You're always on your own, and you've never spoken to anyone. Until now. And you want me to just put you straight into a race, a big race at that?"

"Pretty much yeah."

"Well shit, I've gotta see this. That's your car, yeah?" He asked, flicking his head in the direction of the raven black Nissan Altima that Nate had left moments ago.

Without looking back, he replied "Yeah. That's right."

"Aight, cool." Hector clicked his fingers and pointed at him, "You got the cash?"

Nate put his hand in his pocket, maintaining eye contact with him, he pulled out a bundle of rolled up notes and handed it over. Hector accepted it, pulling off the rubber band that bound it all together and quickly counted it all. He nodded slowly, smile still in place, before puting the money in his back pocket along with the other racers cash.

"You must know the deal then? You've been here often enough. Get your car to the start line and show us what 'choo got."

"Got it."

"The names-"

"Hector, I know."

"I shoulda guessed!" Hector laughed, proferring his hand.

He took it, "Nate."

"Alright Nate. In a bit." Hector left the spectators, and Nate, and walked into a larger crowd of people, disappearing behind a sea of scantily clad females, wannabe racers and heavily modified vehicles. Nate walked back to his car. This was his world. This was where he belonged. He smiled to himself as he leaned back against the hood of his car.

This was it.