Walters popped the last bit of pocky into his mouth and smiled gently at his bosses eldest daughter. "Your father would murder me if he knew what we were doing." He could see her smile softly in the underlight of the street lamp as he guided her hand slowly. It was just after midnight on a Friday.

"I know Kay, but he trusts you and if anyone had to teach me I know he would want it to be you." He couldn't help but laugh at the nickname. His surname had pissed off a lot of the yakuza he'd ran into and Seiko Yakitora had taken to just calling him by the first letter. "So, show me what I need to know..." She whispered and settled back into the seat.

Hours later he drove her home as she looked out the window. "That wasn't too bad." She said breaking the silence, "I don't know why my dad wont let me drive."

"Chica, you almost took out a light pole, two dogs, a motor cyclist, and a wall..." He laughed and slowly pulled up towards the mansions main gate. "But then again you aren't used to something with this much power. I'll pick up something with less gidee-up tomorrow. Just don't let it slip that you're learning to race or I'm dead." He smiled as she shut the door. He pulled his sunglasses on as the sun began to raise over the horizon. He flipped his phone on and looked at the contract picture and name. "Damnit Brian, what are you doing out here." He pulled the silent. 45 from his glove compartment and doublechecked the magazine before peeling out and back towards Tokyo.

Han was sitting in his RX-7 in a parking lot waiting for his mechanic to finish his business inside a customers shop. Han figured he might as well take care of some business himself. As it turns out, he landed a big sponsor for his crew for the upcoming supercar race. Trouble was, he needed a second car just in case his driver lost early on and fell out of the competition. There would certainly be fireworks with his sponsor if they were only to be in one or two races for the amount of money they were getting.
He whipped his phone and and dialed Walter's number, leaving a message, hoping he may have the solution to his problem. "Hey, it's Han. What would it take to get another Koenigsegg within a week?"

"Depends on how many miles you want on it," Walter pulled open his laptop and started calling up shipping manifests from random sources. "Fresh and clean, no tags or VIN and I can have it to you in two days from a source in Russia. It will be 2k for the info, 60k for the delivery and price of the car plus half." He began to bring up other sources, "the other option is from the states brought in via plane but it will be day of your race and you wont have time to ride the kinks out. Half price on car...other prices remain." Quickly he traced the phone call and followed the path to where Han was parked the shifting silver white paint gave a matalic look to his suped up BMW M3. He flashed twice and got out of the car slowly adjusting the leather jacket. "Konbanwa...I say that right?"

Without much hesitation, Han answered. "Russia it is, the sooner the better." With few more words he hung up and sat back in his seat. Less than a minute later, a flashy M3 stopped next to him and out came the man himself.
Han jumped out of the RX-7, a little perplexed. "How'd you get here so suddenly?"

"C'mon Han you know me, just wanted to see if anyone was putting us on." He smiled and pointed at the passenger seat. "I started the trace when you called. I may not be the fastest guy out here but I am fast never the less. I'll need the sixty up front to grease the skids. You have an extra driver for the race or are you running a double all yourself?" He reached his hand out to shake Han's slowly, his typical sly smile plastered on his face as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Of course, always within 5 minutes of anyone at any given time." Han laughed and shook Walter's hand. "I'll get the sixty tomorrow morning, the rest comes when I see the car."
Drivers, that was a bit of an issue, he was taking a chance with what he was doing, but the potential rewards were great. "I got this chick that races for me currently, shes pretty good, but still a work in progress. I'd like to avoid driving in this thing if I could. Had bad experiences there last year." Han paused for a minute and then remembered the other kid. "Theres also this american who I've heard is real good, he's in my shop as well now, so I may give him a shot."

"Careful mate, it gets messy when americans get involved." He checked his watch. "So from front lines to manager, whats got you spooked for this race?" He quarked an eyebrow, Han usually didn't back down from a good race. "They got some real competition or something?" Walter crossed his arms and sat on the hood of his ride mulling over who his drivers were.

Han shrugged. "These deals get messy anyway, what difference would it make." He knew Joker was right, the locals had a total of zero respect for americans. But that could actually play into his favor...if he played his cards right.
"Teams tend to save their best for what they think is their opponents best." He began. "With that mindset, creating an underdog figure has it's benefits. Everyone knows who I am, whoever races me is gonna put their best driver in their best car. In todays scene, there's too many mafias who have scouted and hired too many drivers for this one event. It's ridiculous. But it's also an opportunity to fool people into thinking you have a kitchen knife, when you really have an AK-47." Han paused and leaned on the quarter panel of the RX-7. "I think you know where I'm going with this." He smiled.

"So one of these drivers has the skills to back you up. I like." He smiled wider "When do I get to meet these so called drivers, and think they can take me on?" He patted the hood gently, "Such a low ride I can drift the shit out of any turn without rolling, though I'm still cutting wide on indoor courses. I might need to reinforce the rear skirt..."

Han laughed. "The day of the show, my friend. They'll be prepared, I'm sure. Are you competing in the whole thing by chance?" He grabbed a bag of chips from his car and started snacking. "Eh, if she's going wide I'd change to a bigger swaybar, more front end response so you can pack into the corner tighter."