Act 1

Chapter 2

"A Detroit Minute"

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The sun had begun to rise on the Motor City as TJ made his way back home. The decrepit industry buildings and factories disappeared, replaced with middle-class houses and suburbia. He pulled up to his house a few minutes later, a dark green two-story suburban home with an American flag hung high up on the flag post in front of the porch. He parked in the driveway behind a white compact sedan and noticed the lights were still on.

"'Least Mom's up early. Hope she made breakfast, I'm starvin'…"

With a chuckle, TJ pulled the keys from his ignition and grabbed the backpack he had left in the backseat. Another grunt escaped his lips as he pushed the squeaky door open and stepped out onto the pavement. With a slam and a toss of the backpack over his shoulder, TJ jogged towards the home, his mind already on grabbing something to eat.

Approaching the door, TJ was faced with an electronic padlock. Out of muscle memory, he put the code into the keypad without thinking. 0-5-1-7. The kid stopped for a second, his face souring for just under a second as he shook his head. Those numbers still haunted him and his mother. He wished they would have changed the code by now, but he would not be forgetting it anytime soon. With a creak of the door, TJ walked inside and removed his shoes, leaving the expensive sneakers right next to a pair of Converse that were way too small for him. The sounds and smells of an active kitchen caught his ears and nose, so TJ quickly perked up as he dropped his backpack right in the foyer.

In front of TJ to the left were the stairs leading up to the two bedrooms and the bathroom, while to his right granted access to the living room, kitchen, and dining room. Behind the staircase was a door that led to where the basement was. Not waiting any longer, silent footsteps traced TJ's brisk walk to the kitchen, his stomach growling as he turned the corner. Waxed wood flooring covered the ground as a small yet spacious kitchen filled the eyes of the kid. It had the usuals, fridge, oven, wood cabinets, and microwave. A window began to shine the morning light through the kitchen, illuminating the whole room in a soft orange glow. A center island with a top of granite sat in the middle, with four seats surrounding the fixture. Nothing too special, except for the cast iron skillet on the stovetop, with eggs crackling in the pan.

Sitting in one of the chairs was a middle-aged woman, wearing nothing more than a baggy white t-shirt with gray sweatpants. Deep brown hair formed a frazzled curve around her upper back, combined with some in her face as a fair-skinned manicured hand pushed the straggling strands away. Her back was facing TJ, but judging how she was hunched over along with the placement of her arms, she had something in her hands and was watching something. As TJ's ears tuned in while he approached, he could tell it was a news broadcast.

"And in other news, a daring late-night street race once again has torn through the heart of Detroit. Multiple suspects with illegally modified cars took to the streets and turned public roads into their own race track. While three suspects were caught, four more still remain on the run. Live footage from the race shows the thousands of dollars worth of property damage, from totaled cars to damaged public works projects. If anyone has any information regarding the drivers still on the loose, the Detroit Police Department urges you to call this toll-free number. Any successful tips regarding the whereabouts of these drivers or their vehicles will be paid out with a ten-thousand dollar bounty per car and driver."

"So, should I call the cops and claim almost one-hundred grand?" The woman turned around, her face tired but forcing out a smile. Bright blue eyes and a wide smile tipped the driver off that she was not serious, prompting TJ to roll his eyes and chuckle. In her right hand was a mug filled with coffee, while her left supported a tablet tuned into the local news channels. "There's some eggs for you, I figured you'd be home around this time."

"Thanks, Ma." With a kiss on the cheek, TJ quickly grabbed a nearby plate and utensils before scraping the eggs onto the plate. Taking a seat next to his mother, TJ began to eat before feeling an arm wrap around his shoulder. Turning his eyes toward his mom, TJ noticed her expression drop as she looked into his eyes.

"You have school in an hour."

"Yeah, I know. However, I'm feeling a bit… sick."

A sigh arose from the woman as she turned her tablet off, silencing the news broadcast. "How much sleep have you gotten?"

"…Enough. I'll get some sleep in a bit."

"That just sounds like you're gonna take a nap on the couch. I can see the bags under your eyes, Tyler." TJ remained silent as his mother shook her head. "Look at yourself. You look like you've only gotten eight hours of sleep for the entire week. You're on the run from cops every other night, you're putting your life at risk at the same time with these races on the nights when you're not committing felonies, and you're not even old enough to vote."

TJ sighed, putting his fork down as he rolled his eyes. "Mom, I'm fine. You know I'm an amazin' driver, the best in the city."

"Even the best drivers can't ignore reality. You're wanted by the cops, to the point where there's now a bounty on your head."

"I mean, it's not really my head. It's on Phoenix."

"But 'Phoenix' is also Tyler. I mean, why do you do this? My job will let us get by here, you don't need to put yourself in harm's way every night."

TJ shook his head in response. "'Gettin' by' isn't enough. You got that new Volkswagen, right? That street takeover I did bought that and gave you a little extra cash as well. We deserve more than just some fifty-k a year dead-end job and whatever Veteran checks come through the mail. I mean, jeez Ma, I'm makin' fifty-k tonight!"

"It's not about money, it's about you."

TJ was silenced by this, raising a brow. Before he could reply, his mother took a deep breath. "When your father passed, I made a promise that I would take care of you. But I'm failing. Even if I didn't let you do this, you'd sneak out and do it anyway. If Royce wasn't watching out for you, you'd be in prison already. I already lost Derrick, I… I couldn't take losing you too." Wiping away a few escaping tears, TJ's mother shook her head once more. "You know, every morning I wake up and I turn on the news. For those next thirty minutes or so, I expect to see that car of yours in a wreck or surrounded by cops, and my son's fifth-grade class photo or mugshot to appear right after. I lie awake at night wondering if when I hear that doorbell ring, it's the cops telling me that you died or you're currently in jail."

The woman gained a far-off look in her eyes as if she was staring over the horizon. "Sometimes, I even have nightmares that I have to watch this happen, right in front of me. I see that car of yours rolling over and over until it explodes, or you're slumped over in your seat. And when I wake up, I…I can't stop shaking until I see your car in the driveway or the news isn't talking about it. Now I just keep wondering if today's the day your luck runs out. Or if tomorrow, I'm gonna wake up with another empty bedroom in this house."

TJ scoffed, putting his arm around his mother's shoulder as she did with him. "Look, you don't gotta worry about me. Tonight's a simple drive. We get one thing, we go somewhere else. We'll be done before the cops even know anythin's wrong. No one's gonna get hurt."

"You have to promise me you're done after this. Please. Do it for me. I don't want to bury my son. We have more than enough, we don't need to live in excess."

TJ said nothing, looking away before his mother grabbed his shoulders, tears escaping from her eyes and pouring down her cheeks. "Tyler. Please. No more running. You're a smart boy, you can turn your passion into a career. Go to trade school, work on cars. Use that money you have to buy a shop. You can live a life that will make people happy, helping them. A life you'll be truly proud to live, where you won't have to run away from the cops every time you see them."

TJ's fists balled by his sides, but they were not an effect of rage. Looking at his mom again, TJ sighed as he uncurled his knuckles, slowly nodding in the process. "Alright. Last job and I'll stop racing for a bit. A bit. Still got a rep to uphold."

With a shaky breath, TJ soon found himself fused with his mother, the latter clinging on and refusing to let go. "All I ask for is a shot at life on the right side of the law. You'll see how nice it is to go to the store without having to look over your shoulder or duck down in your seat when I drive past a cop car, and you'll never wanna race again."

TJ chuckled as he embraced his mother, rolling his eyes as hers finally dried up. "Alright, slow it down, Ma. That's some serious gun jumpin' right there. Gonna take a bit more than that to domesticate me."

"I say it because I love you."

"Love you too, Ma." TJ pulled back from the hug after a few seconds before he noticed his mother's expression sour.

"I didn't want to bring it up just now, but you stink. No way my son leaves this house in dirty clothes and stinking like an outhouse at a construction site. Shower and change, now."

A scoff was TJ's natural response, but a sniff at his own clothes nearly made him gag. His mother was clearly in the right, and a change of clothes, as well as a shower, was in order to wash away his sins and scents. Exiting the gold-bathed kitchen, TJ jogged down the hall and hooked his arm around the railing before climbing the stairs like a feral animal. After a few more seconds of jogging down dark blue carpeting, TJ came upon three doors that made up the dead end of the hallway. While two of the brown oak doors remained bare, one had a massive white "D" plastered on the door in stylized Old English font, while the letters "313" were underneath in the same font. Definitely his door. Before he opened the door, however, he noticed a small wooden desk set up in the hall. Approaching it, it had a few framed photos of TJ and his mother in various situations. In one, they were at the park. TJ was on a swingset, no older than five years old while his mother pushed him. In another, the mother and son were at a birthday party, TJ's missing-teeth smile blowing out a candle in the shape of a 7. The memories of the photos were nice, but of course, the ones of the man taking them were not as nice. Keeping photos of him around would only hurt more.

Shaking the intrusive thoughts out of his head, TJ turned his heel from the photos and quickly pushed his door open, eager to finally get out of his used clothes. Walking into his room, it was a mess. There were cans of soda, boxes of take-out on his desk, clothes strewn about on his bed, and an opened bag of potato chips by his nightstand. His wall was littered with car posters featuring all types of cars. Supercars, tuners, muscle cars, concept cars, the list going on and on. Looking down and just under his TV, his video game console was on. TJ realized that he must've forgotten to turn it off last night, causing him to rush over and turn it off. That's some extra cash going towards electricity now. TJ once more looked over his messy room and sighed, realizing how much time it would take to clean it up.

Shrugging and deciding that he would clean it up later, TJ tossed his clothes into the pile, leaving him in his boxers as he crossed the hall to the adjacent door. His bathroom was simple. Sink with a toothbrush and toothpaste, toilet, and shower. Locking the door and removing his final article of clothing, TJ turned the shower on and let the water warm up. Once it hit a sufficient temperature, TJ stepped in, letting the water wash off his body. Time in the shower got him to think. Mainly about this job. He had a bad feeling about it. As he poured the shampoo into his hands and rubbed it on his scalp, he tried to calm himself down. He's escaped hundreds of chases before, each one more intense than the last. What's one more? But still, whatever this thing was, it had to mean big trouble. A concept car? Who knows how long he'll have to lay low, and if Royce can even cover his ass for it. Next came the soap, and as he rubbed the bar around his body, he kept thinking. He knew nothing about the client, or what they were after, and why was he getting it? What was so special about this Viper? It only posed more questions as the warm water washed his body off, drooping his hair over his eyes. This whole job just seemed cursed, like the money wasn't worth it.

A freezing chill suddenly enveloped his body, causing him to jump out of the shower with a yelp. It's already been five minutes? He thought as he wrapped himself in his towel to absorb some of the fluffy warmth. His mom had installed a timer on the showers, and once five minutes passed, The shower water would become freezing cold. It was her way of saving on water and heat. TJ turned off the shower and dried his body off, before brushing his teeth and applying deodorant to his body. He was about to do his hair before shrugging and deciding that his hat could cover his hair again for the night. Walking back to his room, he grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and socks before slipping on a clean pair of jeans. Looking over his pile of clean shirts, he found a white one that read "Keep Calm And Kick Clutch," making him smirk. He threw the shirt on before grabbing his sneakers and sliding them on. He finally grabbed his Detroit-branded hat and a black hoodie, remembering that he left his driving gloves in his Skyline.

Before he walked out, he quickly grabbed his wallet and opened it, making sure he still had money on hand. Going through the cash, his fingers ran across two small photographs tucked between the bills. The first one was of his crew, all getting their picture taken in front of their cars with massive smiles. The second photo was more formal, taken years ago. While he and his mom were front and center wearing a black suit and a black dress while smiling, the man behind TJ dropped his mood. He was almost identical to the young driver, but he was stuck in a wheelchair. TJ forced the painful memory back into the wallet before slipping it into his pocket next to his keys, trying to suppress what he saw. With that, he turned his lights out in his room and walked downstairs, with his mom now rinsing the dishes in the kitchen.

"Yo, Ma! I'm headin' out!" TJ shouted, causing his mom to look over and quickly walk to him. The woman looked her son over once more, before tightly hugging him again.

"Be safe, Tyler. And please, keep your promise. This last job, and you're done."

"This last job and I'm done."

"I love you, Tyler."

"Love you too, Mom"

Finally, TJ's mother let go as a smile appeared on her face, causing one to appear on TJ's. As a final parting gift, TJ's mother gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before opening the front door for him, letting the crisp morning air waft throughout the house. Without saying a word, TJ jogged over to his car and turned the key, peeling out of the driveway in reverse as he gave his home on last look before he noticed his mother in the window. She was waving. TJ waved back with a smile before cutting the wheel to the right and taking off into the early morning light as he hoped he would beat the traffic.

~::::~

The drive from home was peaceful, and TJ was able to make it to the Factory without any incidents. After parking his car and throwing a sheet over it, TJ's ear perked up to the sound of Max's audio system blaring the best rap hits from the beginning of the millennium. With a careful and yet somehow not deaf ear, Max bounced his head in time with the music. The audiophile noticed TJ approaching and smirked, pointing to the system with pride. "Check it, yo! These Kenwoods ain't let me down yet! Man, been a month and these things still got bass for days!"

TJ rolled his eyes, knowing just who paid for that set-up as he stared into the bed. Fully set up with neon lighting, multiple amps and kickers, and a touchscreen display to control it all. It sure was pricey. "Yeah, and I still don't hear a thank you!"

Max chuckled, slapping TJ's back and nearly causing him to get a face full of bass and shouting in return to get his voice over the noise. "Haha, yeah boy! Next time, maybe don't stake that much cash on a pickup game with yours truly!"

"Whatever man, you got lucky!"

The two engaged in a complex handshake before an annoyed moan came from behind the tagged cop car, followed by a wildly tossed wrench that landed a few feet in front of TJ and Max. "Oh my God, please turn that shit off or play some real music! I'm tired of listening to all this crap for hours now!"

"Yo' music is just old dudes screamin' into a mic 'fore their throats explode, Vic! My car, my beats!"

An angered shout filled the air, the two drivers chuckling at the enforcer's rage before TJ tapped Max's shoulder. "For real though, can you turn this down a sec?! I gotta get at you!"

"Sure! See what happens when you ask politely, Vic?!"

"Just shut it up!"

A second later, the music was dialed back, becoming nothing more than background music as Max leaned up against the rear quarter panel of his Magnum in his typical relaxed pose. "Aight, what's good, TJ?"

TJ sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as he shrugged. "It's my mom. She made me promise that I'd stop racin' an' goin' on jobs after this one. Wants me to focus on school and open a shop."

Max tipped his fedora up with a raised brow and his head cocked to the side. "Nah bruh, for real? You're one of the best drivers I know, nothin' bad's gonna happen to you! She probably just saw the race and got a bit nervous, I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much. We're a crew, which means we all got our backs! Plus, this job's finally gonna pay for that R34 your ass was scopin' a while back! Don't you wanna race that?"

TJ made an unsure noise with his mouth, throwing his hands up before slapping his pants. "I don't know, man. I mean, she was cryin' before I left. Said she didn't care about the cash, just wanted me to live a safe life. But damn, that sounds borin'. Finally pullin' up to a meet in that thing would be slick too... Look, I'll see how she feels after this and keep you guys posted."

Before Max could respond, Kylie rolled out from underneath her Elise next to the Magnum, her pale face dirtied up with her own wrench in her hands and massive headphones that were now around her neck. "Honestly mate, I might do the same. My parents want me to fly back to Gold Coast once I graduate to become a head techie, and the heat's turned up hot on us right now. If TJ's out for now, so am I."

Max seemed stunned, his face locked in confusion while being unable to feel Kylie discreetly wipe her greasy hands on his tank top. "But, we got a rep to defend! People gotta know we're the best!"

Kylie chuckled, patting Max's back to wipe off more grease and catch his attention. "Mate, people already know we're the best, we've beaten everyone in this city. Hell, we're racing a bunch of bloody bogans from the south now! If settling down for a bit means a new batch of drivers shows up, I'm fine with pulling the stumps on racing. Gives us a breather too, all this racing has got me buggered."

Max seemed to mull the words over in his head, before sighing and shrugging his shoulders. "I guess we could all use a break. Give the cops time to forget about us anyway. Though I don't know if that'll stop Vic from doin' his thing every night."

Looking over at the enforcer, the group noticed him beating the Charger with a hammer, bending the frame back into shape as his face turned beet red. TJ looked back at his friends as the banging got louder and louder. "Yeah, well we'll tell him when the job's done. I'm gonna catch some sleep in my Skyline, haven't slept in a day or two."

"Aight bruh, we'll wake you when the Italian gets here. Catch those Z's!"

With another handshake and a hug, TJ broke off from Max and Kylie, his ears picking up the start of a debate over if form is better than functionality as he opened the purple driver's door to his tuner and sat down in the bucket seat.

As TJ leaned back, his head became both light and heavy at the same time. His eyes struggled to stay open, the exhaustion finally hitting him like a train. The driver let himself be absorbed into the racing seat as his mind began to swim in a sea of darkness. There was comfort in nothing, the driver's body going limp as he allowed his body and mind to rest finally. The ambient noise has been tuned out, fading into the abyss as nothing more than white noise. As TJ was stuck in his void of slumber, there were voices that he could hear coming from the background. Slowly but surely, they picked up in volume, surrounding the driver.

Sirens first, followed by shouting and radios. Footsteps on tiles. The beeping of machines.

"Mommy, mommy! Where's Daddy?! Why I can't I see him?!"

"Daddy's very sick, Tyler. He needs to rest."

"But I want to see him! We were going to go to the car show today!"

"Tyler, let the nice doctors help Daddy. He'll take you there soon enough, I promise. He wants you to know that he loves you a lot, and that I love you a lot, okay?"

"I'll always love you, baby…"

With a sudden jolt, TJ woke up, nearly slamming his face into his custom NISMO-spec steering wheel. The driver was heavily breathing, his eyes wide and mouth dry as he looked around the interior of his Skyline and caught his breath. Rubbing his eyes, TJ felt his fingers become wet before he wiped his sleeve over his eyes. Sure enough, a dark stain was clear as day on TJ's forearm. The kid began rubbing his eyes some more to clear the moisture from them before he let out a deep sigh.

"I hate that dream…"

Opening the door, TJ nearly slammed it into Max, his friend stumbling backward a bit. "Whoa, hey! Wake up, Sleepin' Beauty! Royce is here, we're all waitin' for ya in the control room. C'mon, I can't take Royce talkin' about his spec ops days anymore, it's drivin' me up a freakin' wall."

TJ sat with a vacant stare for a second before nodding. "Yeah, yeah I'll be there in a sec. Just gotta stretch." Max was about to push for another question before he shrugged and walked away with his hands in his pocket, leaving TJ alone to wipe any remaining tears away.

After an extra minute, TJ stepped out of his Skyline and locked it up, taking one last glance at the beautiful tuner before heading up the stairs to the control room. Royce was standing over the table with folded arms, his eyes running over each member of the team as soon as TJ entered. Once the drivers were standing in front of Royce, the Italian pulled up four garment bags and laid the containers on the table before zipping them open, revealing what appeared to be matching black skin-tight hazmat suits complete with boots, gas masks, and surgical gloves. The four kids stared at the suits with confused expressions before Max spoke up.

"Uh, Royce. What's this?"

"Disguises, idiota. They conceal your race, gender, age, and voice. Cops will only have descriptions of your height, which is the point."

After a few more traded glances and confused glares, the drivers began to change into the suits, leaving their shoes for rubber boots and zipping the suits over their clothes with a bit of difficulty. The kids did not know if this was Royce's way of punishing them for racing, and the smirk on his lips made it hard to tell.

With all four drivers changed and the masks at their side, Royce spoke up, sliding a set of earpieces across the table as he affixed one into his own ear canal. "This should be an easy night, simple snatch and grab. Besides roughing the trucker up a bit, we'll all walk away from this with clean hands and fat wallets. Leave the keys to your cars here, go get the Blockers ready to roll, keep your earpieces on the same frequency, and communicate using the A-B-C callsigns. Andare!"

~::::~

TJ nervously rapped his fingers on his lap. The modified 2012 Dodge Challenger SRT8 was hiding off to the side of the road where the armored car was supposed to come down any second. The matte black paint, smoked taillights, and bullbars on the front and rear bumper that matched the paint job helped the car blend into the inky black of the night as TJ squinted out of the tinted windows. He knew that Victor and Kylie were in the other two identical Challengers, waiting to jump into the fray with them. With each second that ticked by, TJ could not help but feel like something was off. The air was too quiet, and the industrial service road where they set up the ambush was too vacant. Something was off. Max seemed to notice TJ's nerves and nudged his shoulder.

"Ay, bruh. You good?"

TJ looked back at his criminal cohort before quickly nodding. "Yeah yeah, I'm good. Just gettin' mentally ready s'all."

"I feel that. But ay, ain't no reason to freak. We tackle these dudes, heist that snake, and get outta dodge. Heh, dodge… We'll be gone long 'fore cops show anyway. All I'm thinkin' 'bout is what I'mma do with all that cash."

TJ chuckled, keeping his eyes glued on the road as he stole a glance back at a nearly salivating Max. "Oh yeah, like what?"

Max made a "tch" noise, before tapping his wrist. "Y'know ya boy's gonna get some ice on 'im! Diamond studded Rollie, gonna get the haters all mad! Hell, might even spring for some twenty-four-karat bands while I'm at it! I'll shine brighter than my Magnum!"

"So you wanna wear your money, huh?"

"Ain't that what money's for?"

"Fair point."

As soon as TJ finished his words, Royce came over the air, his voice calm and collected. "Transport just turned onto the service road, one driver, no passenger, no guards. I'm moving to position on the freeway now, I will be in the tunnel by the time you have the car. Mask up and good luck."

"Alright, showtime!" Making sure their gas masks were secured, TJ and Max bumped fists before TJ jumped out of the car and grabbed the spike strip from the trunk along with a crowbar. As he ran to the side of the road, his ears picked up the distinct rumble of the trio of V8 engines over the noise of the airport. Looking down the road, TJ saw the headlights of the transport truck concealing the Viper rapidly approaching and waited for the right time. Just as the truck was right on top of him, TJ tossed the spike strip onto the road, watching with glee as every tire was shredded. The driver jumped with excitement and sprinted towards the now-stopped truck as the three Challengers sped past him and quickly blocked the truck.

Victor was the first one to step out of his car, vaulting over the hood of his machine and jumping onto the driver's door of the truck, banging on it with a police nightstick and shouting expletives. The driver of the truck seemed to reach down for a second before Max jumped onto the other side and shattered the window with a steel baseball bat. The four kids demanded that the driver exit the vehicle as Max unlocked the passenger-side door and made his way into the truck.

Out of fear, the truck driver scrambled to exit the cab, opening his door only to remember that Victor was there. Grabbing the trucker, Victor tossed him to the ground and hopped down as Kylie jumped into the truck and began opening the back. The truck driver scrambled on the ground, looking up at his armed assailants with wide eyes. "Who are you people, what do you want?!"

"We're takin' that car you got in the back. Play ball, tell us where the keys are, and we won't send you to the hospital." TJ's threat came with a faux deep voice muffled by the gas mask as he pulled out a crowbar from behind his back and slapped it against his gloved palm, glaring a hole in the driver as he swallowed the brick-sized lump in his throat.

"Alright, the keys are sitting in the car! But I'd leave if I were you! The cops are on the way, and that car is-"

"Shut up! Face down and kiss the road!" The driver complied with the threat from TJ just as Kylie poked her head out from the truck cab.

"Delta! Rear's open, grab the car!" Kylie's faux Texan accent was barely passable, but it worked on the driver of the truck as TJ ran to the back while Vic and Max kept watch over the trucker.

As soon as TJ came face-to-face with the car, his eyes turned into brown saucers as his mouth hung wide open from behind his mask. The Viper was sitting still but looked like it was ready to strike at a moment's notice. A glossy red coat of paint highlighted every curve of the car, while the silver stripes gave it the trademark Viper look. The massive rear spoiler, twenty-inch rims in the front, and twenty-one-inch rims in the back added to the aggressive look of the supercar. With a childish giggle, TJ quickly squeezed past the Viper and made his way to the driver's side, opening the light yet solid door with ease.

Getting comfortable in the racing bucket seat, TJ quickly noticed a few things that were off about the interior. The item that caught the driver's attention first was behind the center console. Behind a sheet of glass was what appeared to be some sort of silver disk emitting a soft blue glow and a low-frequency hum. Looking just above the shift lever, TJ noticed a series of switches sticking out along with a touchscreen that appeared to be aftermarket. Ignoring the strange touchscreen and disk, TJ slammed the door shut and fastened the racing harness, securing him in the seat as he pressed his foot on the brake and flicked the ignition switch.

The engine howled to life, TJ giving off a few revs to scratch that itch. Taking inventory of the gauge clusters, TJ noticed that the touchscreen flashed with the words "Sternfuchs Technologies" for a second before fading away, replaced with a series of bar graphs and percentages. The numbers confused the driver before he shrugged and opened his mouth. "Alright, snake's out of the cage! Let's bounce!"

As TJ cupped his palm over the spherical shifter, Royce chirped him a second later. "Merda, you better get out of there ASAP. Cops were on standby, they will be on top of you any second now." To back up Royce's word, lights and sirens were pouring down the road, cutting through the dark in a series of flashing red and blues.

Wasting no time, TJ shifted into first gear and exploded out of the back of the truck. The tires chirped on the pavement for a bit, before TJ cut the wheel hard and drove around the front of the truck, stopping in front of Max and rolling down the window. Quickly, Max tossed a small black box to TJ, who proceeded to stick it to the dashboard and spin the tires as he took off. "Thanks for the ears, Bravo," TJ shouted, fiddling with some dials on the box while his crew caught up to him. Finally, after latching into the right frequency, TJ was able to listen to the cops as the trio escaped the service road and jumped onto the freeway as quickly as possible.

"Cars match the description of those related to a series of robberies in the tri-state area and should be dealt with rapidly. Control of this pursuit is being transferred over to Sergeant Bryant Jackson of the High-Speed Task Force." As dispatch finished with the info, TJ's eyes went wide as his foe soon appeared in his rear-view mirror.

"All units, it's Sergeant Jackson here. I don't care what you do, as long as you stop those damn cars! I'm authorizing the use of any and all amounts of force and pursuit equipment effective immediately! I want choppers in the sky ASAP and any units on patrol in this chase!" The Sergeant's husky shouts reverberated through TJ's scanner and the car. He sounded pissed, ready to bring war with him.

"Shit man, never heard Jackie that pissed before! Looks like we finally broke 'im!"

"I'm with ya. We'll block them for ya, Delta. Move move move!"

"Oh, we'll do more than block, come on you greasy pigs! We're gonna fry all your asses like bacon!"

The shouts from his crew put hope in TJ's heart, but that hope as well as his heart were almost thrown out the window as he slammed on the brakes. "Shit, roadblock! How the hell'd they set up so fast?!"

"I've got them! Incoming!" Vic came soaring past TJ like a cruise missile, his Challenger already showing signs of battle as Max, Kylie, and a squad full of cops followed behind. The sounds of twisting metal filled the air, Victor used the weight of his muscle car to punch a hole through the line of cops.

TJ took advantage of the opportunity quickly, slamming his foot on the gas as the concept car accelerated at speeds that shocked even TJ. "Ho-holy shit! Guys, this car ain't normal! This puppy's had some serious work done to it! I don't think I've ever rolled on this much power!"

"Tch, man, why do you get all the fun toys, bruh?"

"Hey, you're havin' plenty of fun out there, Bravo! Oh, on your left! Woo!"

The Viper screamed by Max, taking the driver back a bit before scoffing again and putting his foot to the floor. A second later, Max was also passed by Sergeant Jackson, the Camaro hot on the tail of the Viper as the two cars danced in the road. Looking in his mirror, TJ noticed the Sergeant and quickly began swerving, hoping that the officer would lose control. Try as he might, there was no shaking the cop as he turned his eyes forward. Another roadblock, but there was a small gap just big enough for him to fit through. TJ slipped through the gap with ease as he held his breath, slightly chuckling as Sergeant Jackson clipped the barricade, forcing him to slow down and fall behind.

As Sergeant Jackson attempted to catch up, the three crew members began to play pinball with the officer, toying with him like a lion would with its prey. Laughter pierced the comms as the kids bounced the Sergeant around, trashing the muscle car and forcing him to slow down even more. The victory would be short-lived, however, as the roar of a chopper overhead filled the air, followed by a dozen more cop cars joining the fray. While the cops were fast, they were nowhere near fast enough to keep up with the Viper or the driver behind the wheel.

The speed of the Viper caused TJ's teeth to rattle, weaving in and out of traffic as he sped down the freeway. Congestion began to get heavy, and various pedestrian traffic took up the majority of the roads. Taking a deep breath, the world began to crawl. The night took on a purple hue as TJ's pupils dilated behind his gas mask. Like a ballet dancer, the Viper slipped between each gap in traffic with perfect precision. Time practically froze as TJ gently weaved in and out of the quick spot of traffic, releasing his breath as soon as he passed the final car. Time caught up to the driver, forcing him to slow down slightly as he coped with the world returning to full speed.

"Damn, Delta! Don't tell me you just went all sex-face as you pulled that little display off, haha!"

"Blow it out your ass and try to keep up, Bravo!"

Despite the lead, TJ wanted more. That tunnel was coming up soon, and TJ needed an extra kick to get him home safe and sound. At the speed he was currently at, TJ was blowing by roadblocks before they even finished setting up, stunning them enough to let the rest of his crew pass unobstructed on the shoulder of the freeway as well. After blowing by another pack of cops, TJ's eyes drifted to the switches just below the touchscreen. There were seven switches not including the ignition, most of which were irrelevant in the current moment. However, there was one that stuck out to the driver, one that put a massive smile on his face.

NOS.

Those three letters almost made the driver practically do a somersault in his seat as he flicked the switch without a moment's hesitation.

The car gained an instant injection of horsepower, pinning TJ to the seat as he tried to remain in control of the raging vehicle. A shot of direct-port nitrous had just been unleashed, vaulting the car forward as the distinct sound of the wailing supercharger filled the air. The car hurtled faster and faster through the freeway, nothing able to slow the speeding snake down as it became little more than a blur. TJ watched the speedometer rise as best as he could, holding back tears from escaping his eyes due to the immense g-forces. One-forty, one-sixty, one-eighty, two hundred, where the numbers stopped, but TJ felt he was still accelerating.

"Yeahyeahyeahyeah! We're movin' now, yo! Sayonara, five-oh!"

As a wicked smirk grew on his face, TJ felt a small spark strike his cheek. He ignored it before another spark hit his face. Looking to his right, he noticed the device sitting behind the glass start to glow a brighter blue and spark up, with some sparks breaking through the glass. As he kept driving, the device began to levitate and shoot out even more sparks, emitting a high-pitched shriek as it did. "Guys, somethin's wrong! The car's freakin' out!" TJ shouted into his radio with a warble in his voice.

"What? What do you mean?!" Royce asked with a pang of nervousness in his voice.

Looking at the touchscreen, warning messages popped up while a string of numbers flashed across the screen, too large and moving too fast for TJ to understand. Looking at the device, rays of blue light penetrated the glass, illuminating the road in front of TJ for miles. To compound the problem even further, the driver noticed the device rumbling and warbling as more blue light shot out.

"Oh shit, this ain't good!" TJ shouted, before static cut through the radio.

A blinding blue light swallowed the Viper whole, blinding the drivers and the cops. The world seemed to freeze for a year before everyone's vision returned. Max, Victor, and Kylie look around the interiors of their cars, making sure they were still in one piece. As the group of cops and robbers realized they were still alive and looked ahead, they noticed that the red Viper was nowhere to be seen, a blue flicker rapidly dissipating into the night instead. All cars stopped accelerating, trying to process what had just happened. Even Sergeant Jackson had nothing to say, an eyebrow raised as he took his foot off the gas just as he was about to shunt Victor. Confusion spread all the way to Royce in the truck, who was dead silent as well.

As the revving of the engines and police sirens ceased in the sea of confusion, Royce swallowed as his eyes went wide.

"Tyler?"