Rally time, mate! Maps checked? Thrill's in the air, let's crush this race! slaps the hood of the rally car, grinning
Ready when you are Seb. tosses my helmet into the car and slides into the passenger seat while putting my helmet on.
Strap in, Pats! We're about to tear up this dirt! starts the engine, revving it loudly
Hold tight, mate! We're gonna fly over these dunes like we're on the back of a rocket! accelerates the car, sending dirt flying behind us
Slow down!! looks ahead Points to a big rock in the road.
Shit! swerves to avoid the rock, tires screeching Hang on, Pats! This is gonna be one hell of a ride! manages to steer clear of the rock, but the car jolts violently
Gets flung forward but puts my hand on the dash board so I don't crack my face open. Holy shit!
grits teeth, gripping the steering wheel tightly Keep your eyes peeled, Pats! We can't afford any more surprises out here! scans the surroundings, on high alert
Looking ahead I see the next jump. There's another jump!!
You got it, Pats! Hold on tight! gathers speed, aiming for the next jump Here we goooooo! launches the car into the air, soaring over the jump
WOOOOO!! Laughs excitedly. I love these jumps!
lands smoothly, grinning Love 'em too, Pats! But we can't get cocky. There's still miles to go! accelerates again, pushing the car to its limits
An hour later we cross the finish line. WE WON! Takes my helmet off and shakes Sebs hand, jumping up and down.
Hell yeah, Pats! We did it! throws his arms up in victory, grinning widely That was one wild ride! Can't believe we took first place!
Hell Yea Seb! Grabs a drink and sits down in a beach chair near the finish line cheering everyone else on.
<As Patterson celebrates, he receives a call from an unknown number congratulating him on their victory. The caller reveals himself to be a powerful mafia boss who wants to recruit Patterson for a dangerous mission.>
Confused at who is calling me on my phone, quickly answers my phone. Huh hello.
leans in closer to listen, curiosity piqued Who's on the line, Pats? Don't keep us hanging! raises an eyebrow, impatiently tapping his foot
Sir? Is this White Russians calling?
leans back, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips Ah, so the mysterious White Russians wants a chat, does he?
Leaning against a tree with my drink in my hand, listening to whoever is calling me. Yes Mr.White Russian?
leans against the car, crossing his arms, a playful glint in his eyes Well, well, well, Pats. Looks like our victory has caught some attention.
Uh huh...So what do you want Mr.White Russians?
claps his hands together Well, Mr. White Russians, if it isn't the mastermind himself! Listen, Pats, seems like this guy wants us for some shady business. Let's see what he's got cooking, shall we? nudges Patterson to keep him engaged White Russians: a deep, smooth voice on the phone Good job out there, boys. I couldn't help but notice your skills. I have a proposition for you. pauses for a moment I need someone with your expertise for a little job. Interested?
Depends on how much money you're throwing at us.
raises an eyebrow, smirking Money talks, doesn't it? Well, spill it, Mr. White Russians. What's the price tag for our expertise?
Listens to the phone for a second, looking at Sebs smiling face. If it's not enough we're passing. Simple as that.
leans back, crossing his arms Alright, Pats, let's hear what this Mr. White Russians has to say. Don't sell yourself short, mate!
Pulls out a pen and paper, writing down what ever this man says. So what's it going to be White Russians?
taps his foot impatiently Come on, Mr. White Russians, don't keep us waiting! We've got ears and a willingness to listen.