Chapter 1

Gilbert's hands flexed as they clamped around the wheel, his heart hammering against his rib-cage. "fünf...vier...drei...zwei...fahren!" Elizabeta cried in a terrible interpretation of German, throwing her arm down; Gilbert pushed his right foot down and the Porsche shot forward, the engine roaring like a beast uncaged. Gilbert smiled as the sleek, black beast powered ahead of his brother's dark-green BMW.

Their fellow nations cheered them on from the rapidly disappearing start point; Gilbert's world slowed as the car sped up, every sound around him becoming more prominent and every colour of the busy streets illuminating before him. The delectation of those first few seconds of the race wore off quickly as Gilbert had to swerve to avoid a motorist who was sticking to the speed limit; in his rear-view mirror he saw Ludwig do the same.

Now the game begins, bruderlein. Gilbert's foot touched the floor of the car as the needle moved passed 100mph, his back forced back against the leather seat. Ludwig pushed his foot down, the hood of his car creeping passed the rear bender of Gilbert's Porsche, a smile spreading across his lips.

Elizabeta jumped into the back of Alfred's jeep before they took off after the two cars, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small radio.

"Hey boys, let's keep it clean, don't forget the drug-stop on 81st, go around it, no use getting caught!" She said into the mic.

"Fick, forgot about that." Ludwig muttered to himself as he pulled on the handbrake to make a corner. Gilbert was exactly parallel to him but pushing to regain his lead while still avoiding a mixture of terrified pedestrians and innocent motorists. Behind them a jeep followed on with Alfred and Arthur in front and Matthew, Elizabeta, Francis, Honda and Antonio standing in back and clinging to the bars.

Gilbert and Ludwig shot passed the turning down 81st street where the police waited, checking random cars for drugs; they would almost certainly stop their futile efforts at drug control to catch a set of illegal drag-racers. "Well-done boys, passed your drive-by drug search with flying colours." Elizabeta said with a laugh as she clung onto a side-bar with all her might.

"Best race yet!" Antonio shouted to her as he pivoted against the side of the jeep while hanging on the bar like a psychotic orangutang.

A pedestrian strolled out into the road without looking causing Ludwig to swerve and hit a lamp-post, leaving a shattered passenger window and a huge dent in the car; he gasped and paused for a micro-second before putting the car back in gear and chasing after his brother who had used this break in competition to his advantage and was powering through the streets of Los Santos.

They continued to race like this, exactly matched in speed and driving skill, and were just blocks away from the arranged finish-line when the sirens sounded around them. Elizabeta grabbed her radio as the jeep fell back into normal traffic "We've got company guys, lose the blues and meet us back at The Pit." She said, a look of concern on her face which mirrored everyone's in the jeep.

Ludwig looked around him and saw, in his rear-view mirror, that he had two police cars behind him; Gilbert turned left at the next opportunity, splitting from his brother. Gilbert had two of his own police cars on his tail as he pulled out onto the highway and dodged on-coming traffic, muttering a series of German profanities as he attempted to get away from his unwanted police escort; Ludwig, meanwhile was taking the police for a course in agility-driving, turning suddenly and powering straight ahead as the police struggled to make the sharp turns and rapid motions required to keep up with the yellow BMW.

"Pull your vehicle over!" a deep male voice sounded from speakers on one of the police cars behind Gilbert, he had successfully moved into traffic moving in the correct direction and was now diving between cars, putting a wider distance between himself and the desperate police. He kept up this performance until he lost sight of his tail before pulling back into the busy streets of the city, he kept a low profile and stuck to the normal rules of traffic to remain undetected by the police as he drove to the outskirts of the city with the worry of his brother's safety playing on his mind.

Ludwig's strategy of making a series of quick turns had exhausted itself as the police now predicted his next moves in order to keep up with him, he had now adopted a new strategy of putting his foot to the ground and moving as fast as he could through the city streets and then out of the city into the hills. He was beginning to panic which he knew was bad, it meant he would risk making a bad decision at any moment.

He now had five cars fighting to knock him off the road and knew if this chase went on for much longer that there would be a helicopter above him, ready to hunt him down. Ludwig took a deep breath and looked ahead, noticing a dirt track to the right less than 100 yards away. He powered forward and from behind it looked as if he would shoot passed the turning but at the very last second Ludwig yanked on the handbrake and turned, three of the police cars sailing passed him before he let the brake down and powered down the bumpy dirt track. The police fell back as the BMW sped ahead of them with ease, somewhere in the distance the sound of the blades on a helicopter pushing through the air sounded, Ludwig would have to think fast.

"You lost him?!" Arthur cried, rolling up the sleeves of his green jumper.

"I had to split from him or we'd slow each other down!" Gilbert replied meekly, his white skin unnaturally palid.

"I'm sure he's fine, he's not an idiot." Roderich sighed as he rested against the table with the stereo system on top of it.

"Give it an hour then P can hack the system to see if got arrested." Matthew said, resting his hand on Gilbert's arm.

"Hmm, I hope he's OK." Gilbert said, burying his face in his hands.

Ludwig had finally put enough of a gap between him and the police that he dared to slow down to a mere 70mph as he drove passed a series of caravans covered in metal sheeting. He seemed to remember Alfred referring to Sandy Shores as a "bunch of rednecks with aluminum and duct tape for houses." He had to chuckle at what had happened after that, the image of Arthur pummeling him while screaming "It's ALUMINIUM!"

Ludwig became so distracted by his thoughts that he didn't see the coyote until the last second and swerved to avoid it; the sudden twist of the wheel jerking the car straight into a concrete wall, throwing Ludwig through the wind-screen and into the dust. He was winded and covered in cuts and bruises with a large cut on his forehead.

He stared up at the moon and fought to stay awake, forcing his eyes open as a dark cloud crept over him. numbing his pain temporarily; his eyes closed and he heard footsteps nearby.

"Trevor…I don't like it." A voice wined.

"Mimimi I don't wrike it mimimi, shut up!" A much deeper voice responded cruelly "Grab his feet." Ludwig felt his weight being lifted from the ground before he slipped into the comforting depths of unconsciousness.

"He hasn't been arrested, last police record that was to do with him says...uhhh… 'Yellow BMW, no number-plate, illegal vehicle racing, Los Santos, Lost sight four miles from Sandy Shores.' The reports of it aren't up yet, they should be by morning." Peter said, resting his headset around his neck.

"Sandy Shores? That's way too far out of the city...he must have been under some serious heat…" Alfred said, laying across the couch.

"We'll go out looking for him tomorrow, he's probably just laying low or something...he wasn't awesome enough to...just come back and play it cool…" Gilbert muttered, trying to hide his anguish.