An Eye For An Eye (Fast & Furious | Hobbs/OFC)

Chapter 16

A sudden flash of movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention: Owen looked down the aisle to see Hobbs moving towards the lift, and behind him their sister, sprinting like Koschei the Deathless were snapping at her heels. Deckard's head turned also, lips curving down into a disapproving frown.

"Keep an eye on him, will you?" Owen said. If Deckard was going to stand idle and feign ignorance of what they were up to, the least he could do was be useful. "He's playing the long game and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."

"You don't need to worry about Hobbs."

"What about you, then?" Deckard's history with the Fed was an issue Owen couldn't risk neglecting. It wasn't his imagination that they'd moved from trying to bury each other to simply pissing the other off. Owen supposed that was what happened when your enemy helped to save your sister. "I thought we'd stopped lying to each other."

Deckard scowled and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. Owen had him exactly where he wanted him: between their family and the people who'd harmed them. It was where Deckard almost always inevitably found himself. He'd taken the belt for Owen, finished his fights and settled scores. What more did his little brother want?

"I told you I'll handle him."

Of course he would, just like he handled everything. Owen scoffed and stood, sculled the rest of his coffee and tossed the styrofoam cup into the nearest trash can. "By doing what needs to be done or by appeasing your morals?"

"This isn't Kandahar, Owen." What he was suggesting wasn't impossible, but neither was it something Deckard might willingly do. The moment Hobbs disappeared, every set of eyes would be on them. Killing a civilian like Toretto was one thing, killing a U.S federal agent another. "You want Hobbs dead? Do it yourself."

They sat in silence for a minute, Owen staring at Deckard and him staring right back.

"Who said anything about killing him?" Owen finally said, breaking the tension. He raised an eyebrow as if concerned. Deckard sure did have some interesting ideas about how to handle people, even if there was kilometres of desert outside, stretching away in every direction. That kind of place sounded as good as any for a cemetery. "I suppose accidents do happen all the time though."

For God's sake. Deckard seized Owen by the bicep and pulled him close, fingers digging in as his grip tightened. Perhaps an accident did need to happen — one that would knock some sense into his brother's head. "The only reason I dragged you out of that prison was for Mum. Don't make me regret it."

Owen shrugged and pulled his arm free. "I would've broken out eventually, but thanks for the help."

"You were ejected from a moving plane. Comatose for months." If he needed a reminder of everything that happened, Deckard would happily provide it. He circled around Owen and blocked his path, lingered there for long enough that Deckard thought Owen would shove him out of the way sooner or later. "Sure, you would've broken out. Eventually. Assuming you survived Gen Pop."

"Have you said your piece yet?" As amusing as this was, Owen was bored now. He moved past Deckard and began walking towards the lift, a slow strolling pace that said he was in no hurry to go anywhere. The plane would take a while to offload so getting ahold of his car could wait. Other things, like locating the hole in Nobody's security, were the more pressing matter right now.

"We have a deal, Shaw."

Hobbs' voice carried from outside as he reached the hydraulic lift. The wide doorway through which the cars would be driven was open, and now the plane's engines were off, external noise was clear as day. Owen pressed the 'up' button and listened intently, standing in the shadow cast by the C-130 Hercules.