Ross felt the car roar once more, as it lept into fourth, the deep throaty roar of the flat four and the huge turbo that had been attached, with the anti-lag making the rear occasionally sound like a rifle on full auto, this Subaru being a machine that felt more trackday than four wheel tarmac terrorist. That fact alone was enough to send a shiver through his spine, and it was that fear that made him keep going, just utterly in that moment. The roads curved a little, as Ross flew over a bump in the road, the classic rally traits of this car kicking in, as the ground felt hard, a little Carbon possibly knocked up or dented, as Ross felt the stiff car momentarily lose it's solid grip. Turning on a mini-roundabout, swerving past two slow moving cars, Ross was back on the throttle, before taking a left onto a dual carriageway headed towards Canary Wharf, the sight of three cars ahead a looming aspect. He couldn't even tell what had happened to Kimberly, he had literally no idea that she had spun out a minute ago, and that he hadn't even considered the prospect of her following now. None the less, he knew he had to keep going. She was fast enough to outrun the cops, and smart enough to not trash her car. Kimberly wasn't like that, surely? He couldn't think that. All he could do was focus on going 120mph on a road with a limit three times less. 

The car whined, as the brakes felt red hot, the Evo IX ahead and clearly holding a steady line. Ross pursued the car, weaving between bollards and parked cars, another 90 degree turn putting him close, as the Evo suddenly overdid the turn, the driver clearly not used to four wheel drifting, or at least keeping a dead level car control running. The car suddenly shuddered, and went off the road, sideways, smashing into a brick wall and going at least 50m through a grassy knoll, Ross recoiling in that fact. He was too in the moment, too focused, his mind in a different place. He had to get down to it. He still had no idea in regards to Kimberly, and the cops were distant, something was ticking in his mind. Something was wrong. The race was not high stakes, but it felt like it had become so in an instant. Maybe he should go back for Kimberly. He couldn't. His mind perhaps slipped for a second too long, as he had to stamp on the brakes, barely clipping the kerb as he turned right, heading into Canada Square, or the area beneath Canary Wharf. The GPS was going this way, the route even more insane. Flooring it, Ross saw the sight of Joanne ahead, and knew that she would acknowledge him.

Turning by a set of trees on the concrete, Ross kept close, not even drifting, just threading the car precisely through the pedestrianized area, turning out back onto the road and back out towards the Docklands. This was insane, the cops had to be about somewhere...Ross just didn't know. The race felt like it had lost it's flavor, like something bad had happened. There didn't feel like this was the right thing to do. Ross still didn't see the Skyline in his mirror, but Joanne was close. They were going back to the warehouse, to that abandoned site, but yet Ross knew that all shit could raise if he made the wrong move. He was sick of it. Back on tarmac, he put his foot to the floor, and tailed Joanne, tapping the car phone at the same time, getting the voice recognition up.
"Call, Kimberly." He simply said, as his phone replied, Ross cursing, just hoping she would pick up. He couldn't even tell, as he skidded around a corner, the Subaru following the 911, Joanne clearly having the top speed but not the handling and acceleration with the rear-engined beast, impossible to drift without bricks in the front of the car to balance the weight distribution out. Well, at least the older ones were, and that was how Ross found he could at least point a single flaw in an otherwise great car. And in particular, the RWB-kitted 911 was no slouch, not in any way. The wet tarmac as they roared back towards Blackwall could only say it all, as Ross looked over at his phone, unsure if it had connected.
"Kimberly, get Joanne on the line...I've got a really bad feeling about this, if you're still there, just follow signs for the O2 Arena or the Blackwall Tunnel. Just trust me, forget whatever pay there is, there are cops massing everywhere." Ross simply added, as he saw a roadblock on the roundabout, handbrake hard on as he did a 180, flipping the car round, the Subaru spraying grit as the Scot was back on the throttle, not even knowing where Joanne was. She must have made it clear, because this blockade was new. Back on the gas, he headed on the wrong side of the road, slamming over a central reservation as he floored it towards the Blackwall Tunnel, heading towards the O2 Arena, or the Millenium Dome as it was previously known, on the other side of the Thames.
"I'm heading out, buggering towards the south."