Out running the highway patrol wouldn't be altogether difficult, no highway patrol car could get close enough, much less stop them. Their cars simply weren't that fast compared to a Bentley, even a convertible one. The real trick would be out maneuvering them since they had the benefit of numbers and communication and the ability to shut down roads and set up road blocks. At least they were only speeding, that had to count in their favor since the police would be less likely to work too hard to catch them. Bryan was already plotting, trying to mentally outmaneuver them first, his hands tightened on the wheel and he pushed the speed up again managing to kick it up to 140.
While he knew the car could do nearly 200 on a good night a convertible simply wasn't designed for that kind of speed and he could already feel it wobble a little. Wobbling was bad. That speed maintained for any decent length of time could cause serious damage to a car and to them as it could cause a crash. He pushed the speed back down to 110 and turned down an exit ramp at the last possible second. The cop had plenty of time to turn onto the ramp but he was so far behind that by the time he hit it Bryan had them down the road a ways.
Spotting a strip mall he slowed the car and turned into the parking lot, feeling unbelievably slow now. He maneuvered the car behind the row of shops and shut it off, breathing heavily as he turned the lights off as well. Sitting in the relatively dim light of the street lamps he flicked the stud with his tongue again, waiting for the sound of passing sirens. Once they did pass he leaned his head back against the seat and let out sigh, he then looked over at the man in the passenger and let loose a belly laugh. He was shaking a little from the rush of adrenaline and now laughter, and he would have sworn it was the best feeling in the world.