Having arrived at the scene, the Viper, the F430 and the Armani's did not stand out. They were, more or less, a custom. This was an official boat race, but it felt more like a party for the wealthy and crazy, a mid-life crisis standard for rich fools the world over.

It's the same crowd you'd catch at a Grand Prix:  nine-figure money, tall, Northern Italian women and minor German princesses with Swiss educations, no bimbos and no questions about asset origins.

The powerboats were already in the water waiting for their "captains". Viktor and Francis were going to race in a 46-foot catamaran with the roar of 2,700 horsepower, flying at 140 knots called the "Sea Miracle". This was thanks to the, undercover cop loved, [url=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Racketeer_Influenced_and_Corrupt_Organizations_Act]RICO act[/url]. "Sea Miracle" sponsor was Franklin Tutuola. He was a vice cop just like Viktor and Francis.
Walking up to them, he handshaked them, saying:

[b]"Yuri, Marcus. Good to see you two. Get dressed up, the race is going to start soon."[/b]

Francis then asked Frank:

[b]"Where is Gator?"[/b]

[b]"He isn't here now. But, he, most likely, will show up after the race."[/b]