The second lap kicked in, as he came onto the gravel, spinning around the harpin as the front wheels gripped the tarmac cusp, . Taking the next car ahead, he pulled through on the North Bend, coming into contact a little as he scraped past, back on the straight, and now having to do a lot of catch up. The Mk2 roared, the engine revving hard at almost 9,000 before he threw the stick-shift into fourth, with an epic drift that was half concrete, half gravel, kicking up dirt across a poster as Ross exhaled. The car was moving fast, and with this engine, he knew he had to, bits of the right fender snapped off, the Mk2 a little damaged, to say the least, but still a warhorse that was raging.

The third lap,  fourth lap came quick, Ross passing another car, coming back up to 3rd place in the space of the laps, using the tarmac sections to his advantage, finding he was on point in putting the Mk2 Escort around the bends, catching the speed and getting on pace, knowing full well he was now onto the joust that was between Kimberly and Samantha, the other cars still pacing against him, as the orange glow of the sunset began to come down. The weather was awesome, and the track was dry, definitely giving the best grip for rear wheel drive monsters such as these. Going through the start-straight chicane, he was back on the pace, and was right on the back of the two jousting cars, aware that this could all get sticky as they went into the last lap.

---------

Seb smiled back, as he exhaled, the air cold, the pressure decreased, his heart beating confidently, fluttering a little, the butterflies hovering in his stomach. It was a good feeling, as he looked over, looking to the pilot.
"Bossman, how much longer?" He asked, as he looked over at him, 
"Five minutes to our run in!" The pilot replied, as Seb sat back down, moving back through the aircraft, looking out on the horizon, the English channel in view, even France on the very edge of his vision, 15,000 feet feeling more and more like a place that felt normal. He put himself into the zone, shutting his eyes, thinking. Visualizing. How it was going to happen. Green light. Door would open, Seb would move first, onto the camera step, legs and arms shut tight, the wind running hard, as he nodded to Ellie. She would move into her position, right on the door, and then, they would go on the nod. Smoke canisters running, they would set them of seconds before they left, and they would take flight, over the greenery. From 15,000 feet, it was about 3 minutes, 30 seconds of flight, and it was going to be a good one, he thought to himself. Then deployment would come, smoke running from his leg, as they parachuted into the Paddock, and they smirked like bastards. Opening his eyes again, he looked out to Ellie, giving a thumbs up, as he turned his full face to himself. Looking in the visor once more, at his reflection, of his shaven head and his stubble, he turned it back and placed the helmet on, before standing up.
"Two minutes!"