<div class="floatright">(http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b52/jotunusmc/36827_421832359861_518524861_4822950_3819136_n.jpg)</div><br/><hr/><hr/><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Taras Ivan Markovski<strong>  -  Name           </strong><br/>The Muscle<strong>  -  Title              </strong><br/> Pawn-Shop Drop-Point<strong>  -  Location     </strong><br/> Cori, Allison<strong>  -  Tagged         </strong></span></span></div><hr/><hr/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">          He'd already spoken so much tonight - so many of his emotions leaking out that he'd normally have kept wrapped up tightly. It was completely unlike him... but then these were abnormal circumstances. The crew often dealt with sketchy situations and dangerous encounters, but they came with some amount of expectation, for the most part. Boosting cars came with a certain territory of getting shot at, running from the cops, driving recklessly - and occasionally crashing a vehicle. <br/><br/>     Tonight was nothing like those nights. <br/><br/>     It came out of nowhere, it was intentional - and Taras' mind was in such a fray he couldn't begin to decide who was behind it. He had his suspicions, but wasn't anywhere near confident on the truth. Regardless of who put the hit out - it would eventually originate from their employment with the Triads. Ever since they'd become the hot item for the rising Asian power in Seattle, they'd made plenty of enemies: police, rival car-stealing crews, everyone they were stealing cars from... Some of these thefts were on very high-dollar vehicles - and the owners of those cars had the money to become a potential threat. <br/><br/>     Too many possibilities, it had his mind in a scramble.<br/><br/>     Fortunately the phone rang, and yanked the now-silent Ukrainian from his thoughts. Everything Cori had said while he was thinking suddenly came to the forefront of his mind. He replied to her as he subconsciously dug for his phone, <strong>"Yes. Tonight's rendezvous point is the city park five blocks from the garage."</strong> He pulled his phone out finally and glanced down at the screen right when he finished the sentence. <strong>"Allison. They're probably wondering where we're at."</strong><br/><br/>     He tapped the answer button with his thumb as he pulled into the back parking lot of an old pawn shop. <strong>"Hey."</strong> The worry in Allison's voice stood out strongly to Taras - their close relationship allowed things like tone-of-voice, mannerisms, and other subconscious actions to say that much more in any conversation. <strong>"We're pulling into my drop point - have to ditch my car." </strong>It was something that could normally be a routine reply during a night of boosting cars - but the tone in his voice likely clued Allison into the fact that something was very different this time. He almost sounded scared - <em>almost</em>. <br/><br/>     <strong>"Shake those cops and meet us at the park. I'll explain when we get there."</strong> His voice suddenly sounded calmer, as if the thought of the crew grouping back up in a safe location was all they needed to overcome the events of the night. Everything was better when they were all together, and even the possibility of it relieved any fear Taras might have previously had. <br/><br/>     He pulled the beat-up Firebird to a stop near a big dumpster and jumped out, heading towards the trunk to pull out the car-cover he had stored there. <strong>"And Allison."</strong> He said, his tone softer - as despite the recent events, he still had the image of the last time he saw her car that night. <strong>"You kept Rurik in your rearview all the way to the Pier right?"</strong> It was barely even a question. She could probably hear the pride creeping into his tone as he asked her; as if he'd truly believed she was going to win all along.<br/><br/>      He continued to hold the phone to his ear and looked in Cori's direction as she was exiting the battered orange car, giving her a nod to affirm what she'd probably already guessed. That Allison (at least) was fine for now. They had yet to hear from the others - but Ryan and Natalie weren't even racing - and Adriano... Well... he was <em>more</em> than capable of taking care of himself. A fact they both were well aware of. He quickly yanked the tarp over his car and secured it as Allison replied. He hung up the phone and jogged over to the stashed ride - an old rusty-looking Chevelle. It was a sleeper, a beater on the outside and finely tuned under the hood.<br/><br/>     Just in case he needed to evade the police in it... <em>again</em>...</div>