Ross saw the M5s rush past, as he put his foot down harder, knowing this couldn't be good.
"Fuck, they got unmarked Interceptors on us, they're going to run our plates...Kimberly, you best head south, the Dome's going to be bad..." He said to himself, knowing he wasn't on the phone. He had to get back, as he called her up, praying he could get into it on a conference. The cops weren't good enough to track calls, that much Ross knew would be the case. But it would be enough to give them leverage, and they didn't want to get singled out.

Calling them again, he turned hard into a parking garage, losing the brunt of cops, as he drove up into it's depths, looking for exits and ways out before he stopped.
"Kimberly, it's fucked, there's cops crawling here! Okay, I'm going to text you a GPS co-ordinate, bear with me...if this works, just meet me there, I'll be waiting for you, we can't stay together or else they'll focus their resources. Just go for it, I'll be waiting." Ross added, simply as he got through, frantic before he looked around, the Impreza's soft burble the only thing he could guess was going to save him this time.

Flooring it through Grenwich, Ross was back on the road, the spray kicking up a little, as he drove up one way systems, up anything, just absolutely hard on the gas. The more corners he put up, the more the cops were confused, and left, right, left had worked well to lose them for the most part, as he headed out for the east, towards Kent. He could only pray that Kimberly had gotten the text, and could run from the cops.

---

Somewhere outside Gravesend

The cops were long gone, and the car pulled over, Ross already at work on changing the plates. He had already flicked them over, and could only guess that things had totally gone to shit- the cops wouldn't have gotten his ID, not with the scheme he was running with the plates on these cars. It wasn't a free ticket, it was a lot of money to make sure that the police never traced the real owner of the car, and it could at least make sure he looked like a joyrider. Perhaps that he was, but in a car that he did own, and build himself. It was complicated to explain at best, but Ross knew that he had to go back to legal plates, and any police patrols would find zero dirt on this Subaru in particular, any similarities difficult to explain for that reason. At least, he hoped.

The layby was small and in a woodland, and had been the place where Ross had wanted Kimberly and Joanne to meet him, being able to figure this out from a random search on his GPS. None the less, Gravesend was an old Kentish shipyard, and here, on a ring road around it, they were far enough from London. Screwing the last plate in, he went back around, just watching, waiting. He didn't want to call her- but could guess she was smart enough to make it here without attracting cops. Looking around, he looked over at the scratches and marks on his car, tutting a little.
"Fucker." He simply said, as he went back, grabbing his phone from the centre console, before stepping back out. There was someone he remembered, someone he could probably contact. He prayed he was in the area, last he had chatted to him, he was in the area.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the phone responded, Ross quickly identifying the racing driver of a friend he had. It was a story for another day, how him and Ryan were friends, one that seemed to not really flash through his head at the moment. But he knew that it was a good one, one that had worked out mutually for the both of them, both speak freaks and both at the helm of some serious machinery.
"Ryan, it's Ross- you said you were at Lydden Hill this weekend? The rallycross, right?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Well...we're running from London, the racing scene's been cut up. We'll come to you, please say there's some Amateur stuff going on for Sunday." 
"There is, actually. Vintage stuff, if you want in....we could probably cut you a couple of cars, if that's what you're asking."
"Well, call us a late entry." 
"Classic Ross, you fucking owe me. I'll sort it. Anyway, you stay safe, don't get yourself arrested."
"Cheers pal, much appreciated. I'll see you there." Ross replied, his classic Scottish accent selling the rest, as he put the phone down. He was pleasantly pleased, as he moved back. He would tell Kimberly about this at some point, and had half an idea of doing this, but the fact that any chance of doing any street racing in London was now over, meant that this was the best alternative. He was always good at doing things on the fly, he thought to himself, as he continued to watch the road for two fast cars, preferably not followed by cops, from the woodland layby.