The sun filtered through the windows that lined the roof of the warehouse, warming the air inside the building and providing enough light that the overhead fluorescents were presently turned off. Luke walked down the centre aisle, making his way towards the group of work stations and the figure slumped in one of the chairs. With their back to him and a jacket half-covering their head, he wasn't quite sure which one of the Shaws it was till he got closer.
Hobbs picked up the cold soldering iron from its holder and tapped it against the heavy metal desk. The loud clang rang in his ears twice more when Luke struck the desk again and again. "Time to wake up, Shaw!"
"I'm resting my eyes. What do you want?"
Awake already? That was a surprise, or perhaps Shaw hadn't slept. He'd set up a cot for himself in the corridor of the eastern mezzanine and slept there overnight while Deckard and Owen had helped themselves to a motel room. Twice, he'd gotten up and looked out across the warehouse to see Elizabeth still at her work station or standing in front of a portable whiteboard, marker in hand, writing out some kind of formula. "Toretto and his team arrive in two hours. Take the time to freshen up."
Elizabeth reached up and slid her jacket off her head, squinting up at him. There were bags under her eyes and her bottom lip was slightly puffed. Hobbs leaned against her desk, a nonplussed look on his face, as if this were some casual visit on her behalf and she hadn't been kidnapped by his friends. "Wh—"
"It's seven o'clock."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Her stomach rumbled as if to remind her that tea and a packet of cookies were not adequate early morning snacks. She groaned, sat forward and winced when pain radiated up her back. "Well," Elizabeth pushed herself up off the chair and stretched, working out the kinks in her shoulders, "I'm gonna go get some sleep."
"Or you can get your ass in a shower, eat something—" he looked down at the trash can beside her work station; three stained styrofoam cups stuck out of it among plastic packaging "—decent and get ready to meet your new team."
"You know, it's funny but I don't remember signing a piece of paper that said I'd be your bitch." Elizabeth tossed her jacket over her shoulder and gave him a slight wave of her fingers before she stepped past Hobbs and walked towards the lift. Even one hour of sleep would be enough to keep her going for the rest of the day. "I'll see you in two hours."
Luke frowned as Shaw strutted away, arrogant as ever. His not-quite-order had gone completely ignored while she walked off as if last night's conversation had given her the idea that she owned the air she breathed. "I said I'd turn a blind eye to your shenanigans, not your—"
"It's called effective time management." She stepped onto the lift and pushed the 'up' button. It was a twenty minute walk to the motel itself, or an eight minute drive. Considering their cars were yet to arrive, Elizabeth would just have to haul ass this morning. "Maybe you should ask Deckard about it, Fed, you might learn something!"
"If you're ten seconds late . . ."
"I can't hear you." Elizabeth gestured to the lift, smiling all the while. The hiss of the hydraulics, the distance between them and loud hum of the motor all served to block out whatever Hobbs was saying. "It's too loud!"
He scowled, glaring at her from where he stood. Luke dropped the soldering iron back on her desk and eyed the bright yellow post-it note in the middle of the whiteboard that read 'do not erase'. Beneath it, calculations were written out messily, with arrows pointing to sections of them alongside notes in Russian cursive.
Only one thing stood out to Luke: C-4.
"What exactly are you planning on blowing up?" Hobbs murmured. He lifted a schematic for a standard refrigerated truck and reached for a hand-drawn diagram from the top of the stack. "Door's hinges are on the inside, and if Cipher has them monitored, she'll know if we—"
"Make sure you put them back where you found them."
Luke dropped his hands to his waist, diagram and schematic falling to the floor, and drew his revolver in one smooth motion, taking aim at Deckard's chest. "I told you last time, you bald sumbitch, don't sneak up on me."
"Who's sneaking?" Deckard scoffed and helped himself to a seat. He leaned back, resting his feet on the edge of the desk. "A herd of elephants could've come through here and you wouldn't have noticed."
"Right. Care for a sparring session, Captain?"
Sparring? That was what Hobbs wanted to call it? Maybe he didn't understand the concept of having your arse kicked but that was exactly what would happen. "You mean a rematch."
Oh it's on. Luke peeled off his tank top and tossed it towards the corner gym. "If we had a rematch, you would end up smeared on the floor. Consider this fun between friends."
"I think those hits from Brixton did some damage to your brain. We," Deckard gestured between the pair of them, "are not friends, but you're right about one thing: this will be fun."
They had two hours and free reign of the warehouse — of course it would be. Luke crossed his arms over his chest in a stretch then slipped his boots off, dropping them next to his tank. He did a couple squats and crunches, loosening his legs, and gestured at Deckard to hurry up. "Aww, really? I thought we were having a beautiful bromance."
Deckard unbuttoned his shirt, making certain the sleeves didn't slide into themselves, and folded it over the back of a chair. His shoes he left beneath it. The seconds ticked by as he approached Luke, feet sinking into the foam mats beneath him, eyebrows pinched and eyes fixed on Hobbs in a cold glare. "The only romance you were having was with my sister, who I repeatedly told you to stay away from, but you just didn't listen."
"Oh, so you want to play, Princess."
"Hobbs."
"I'm only joking. There's nothing between you and me, but I meant what I said on the pl—"
He was flat on his back inside of three seconds, Deckard's foot pressing against his breastbone. "You just had to open your big mouth."
With that, there was a little under one hour and fifty-six minutes.
"Owen!" She thumped the door of his motel room twice, foot tapping the concrete step impatiently. Elizabeth's heart pounded in her chest, calves aching from the sprint she'd broken into. Around her, a dozen rooms faced each other, divided by a large parking lot, with six on both the east and west sides. At the north end of the lot, a concrete walking track began, leading away from the motel and curving off to the east out of sight. "Wake your arse up."
"It's unlocked."
Oh. Good. Elizabeth twisted the handle and shouldered the door open, letting it swing shut behind her once she was out of the way. "Hobbs said Toretto will be here at nine. You mind if I crash on your—"
Towel wrapped around his waist and choppy curls dripping with water, Owen stood in the bathroom doorway and gestured to the large double bed. Elizabeth was stretched out on it in moments, half asleep by the time her head hit the pillow. He sat on the end of the mattress and used a spare towel to dry his hair, flinging water droplets in every direction. Beth jabbed him in the ribs with her foot in retaliation but made no effort to put any force behind it.
"I'll wake you in an hour."
"Thanks."
"And Hobbs is in room twelve so you should take eleven."
That didn't sound like a suggestion. "Is this a strategic thing or are you trying to torture me?"
"A little of both."
Elizabeth lifted her head to squint at him and scowled. Of course it was. Being in the motel room next to Hobbs would have her awake when he was, potentially allow her to listen in on any conversations, and give her the second-best access point to the footpath she'd seen. "You're a sadist."
"Says the woman who crossed Europe for the sake of revenge."
"I didn't. . ." God, she couldn't lie to him, could she? Owen was the one who could look her in the eye and see right through the bullshit. The only one who knew exactly what she'd done, what she'd buried in the past and would never admit aloud. "What's your point?"
"Sooner or later, Cipher is going to talk. She needs to be silenced before then whether you like it or not."
* * *
Desert, desert and more desert surrounded them. No matter which window Tej looked out of, there was nothing but sealed road and dust. And then suddenly it was there, spread out ahead of them: an electric gate and fencing stretching out to their left and right as far as the eye could see. Beyond it, multi-storey glass buildings loomed on the horizon. "The hell are we?"
"Looks like Area 52 to me." Roman craned his head over the Tej's seat to stare out the front windshield. "I bet you this is where the real shit happens. Creepy place in the middle of nowhere."
"Well it was either this or an old abandoned mine so consider yourself lucky, Roman." Little Nobody looked over his shoulder at Pearce and smiled. "Oh, yeah, we could've been in a plane too."
"Nah, I ain't getting on no plane with your asses again. You can take that idea and—"
"Hey, Rome," Brian called from one of the front seats, a shit-eating grin on his face, right fist and middle finger upright. "How do you like my minivan now?"
"Shut up and drive, man."
"You know, maybe if you're good, I'll buy you an ice cream when we get there."
"I swear if you two don't shut up, I'm gonna knock you both out," Letty warned. Duffel bag in her lap, she watched and waited as the facility drew near. Beside her, Dom sat with his arm around her shoulders, fingers gently pressing into her bicep. "Don't make me come back there."
"Sorry, Letty." Rome flinched as Ramsey leaned over her seat and punched him in the arm. "Ow, what was that for?"
Her afro was combed and tied back, out of reach of anyone who might try and grab it. Laptop bag slung over her shoulder and earbuds in, Ramsey looked every bit the hacker, and beautiful woman, that she was. "A warning."
"Huh. Well you punch like my gra—"
"Don't go there, man," Tej said, shaking his head. "Just don't."
"Hey, Driver." Dom leaned across the aisle to tap Brian on the shoulder. "Do I get an ice cream?"
Letty rolled her eyes, muttered "oh my God" as she rested her head against the window. She lifted an iced bottle of water from her lap and took a sip, pressed it to her forehead in an attempt to cool her face. Tugging at her sleeveless top to fan herself, Letty sighed, slumping down into the seat.
"For you, Mr. Toretto, of course."
As they passed through the gate, Little Nobody reached for the handheld radio clipped to his belt. "Hobbs, we just drove in. We'll be there in a few minutes."
"Roger that."
Ramsey glanced down at her laptop then out the window. A radio transmission could potentially travel for a mile out here without interference. "So you said there's no signal out here, right?"
"Right. Almost everything's been jammed." Beyond the frequencies and connections they were using, the tech guys had assured them the site was secure. All Little and Mr. Nobody could do was take them at their word. "We can't hide from imaging satellites but if anyone here tries connecting to the outside world or vice versa, the firewall will block them."
"That means Cipher could already know where we are," Tej said warily. Except for standing inside a building, or destroying the satellite itself, there was no real way to hide from eyes in the sky. The government could 'ask' companies not to photograph their facilities but their control over the end result was minimal.
"Sure," Eric hesitated. How was he supposed to know what had gone on behind the scenes? While his fellow employees had been setting up, he was on a plane with Hobbs and Mr. Nobody, headed for Cuba. If Ramsey and Tej wanted to know more, they'd have to ask the goddamn IT guys. "But we have her plane and she has no copy of God's Eye."
"Cipher's a hacker. Can't she just hack her way into that shit?"
"It doesn't work like that, Roman."
"Tell that to the submarine."
"Alright, kids, the wheels on the bus stopped going round and round." Brian waved to catch their attention. "Everybody off! Let's go, come on."
With all their gear in tow, Brian's suggestion to take his and Mia's pimped-out eight-seater soccer mom van had seemed like a good idea at the time. Half an hour into the ride, Dom had come to regret it. As Roman and Tej exited the car via the side door, he asked, "Letty, you coming?"
"Yeah, I just need a minute." Letty wiped the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt, still gazing blankly out the window. All the memories she'd suppressed after Spain were rushing back, hitting her in one massive tidal wave, and she was struggling to handle them. Letty had done what the books suggested, written out her feelings on paper and burned it afterwards, but none of it had healed the gaping wound Spain left inside her.
The gaping wound caused by Owen fucking Shaw.
That asshole nearly killed his entire team, including you, Letty reminded herself. Stop moping and get angry. There's no problem that can't be fixed by punching him in the face.
"Letty!" Dom gestured from the warehouse's side entrance. He watched her climb out, water bottle in hand, and leave her duffel bag in the car before slamming the sliding door shut behind her. "You know you can talk to me," he said once she was within earshot. I love you, remember? "About anything."
"I'm good. The heat's a little intense."
"Yeah, it is." Without the coastal breeze they got in L.A, there was nothing to stave off the heat. "It's the Shaws, isn't it?"
"It's more than them. I—" Letty swallowed, rested her forehead against his chest. Things weren't always easy but the one solid thing Letty had to lean on was him. I don't want to die. "I'm scared, Dom."
"So am I." He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the forehead. "But we've got each other and the team. Nothing's gonna happen to you or anyone else, Letty, I won't let it. Elena would kill me if I did."
Her lips curved up in a smile. Letty kissed him on the lips and pat Dom on the chest then took his hand in hers, guiding him inside. Assembled at the bottom of the stairs were Brian and the others, with Hobbs and Little Nobody two feet away.
"Long time no see, cop." Dom nodded at Hobbs in acknowledgment, keeping his fingers laced between Letty's. Her grip was easy, relaxed, but the way she stroked his hand with her thumb said she was still a little on edge. He couldn't blame her for that. It made Dom uneasy just knowing that psychopath was in the same country as them.
Luke returned the nod. "Dom."
"Let's just get this over with."
"They're down the other end." Or Deckard was, in any case. The other two had walked in with ten minutes to spare and Elizabeth had subsequently disappeared (again). Only God knew where she was because Luke certainly didn't.
"Toretto."
Dom shifted his attention to the tall bald Englishman standing behind Hobbs and the dark-haired son of a bitch next to him. "Shaw."
"How's the kid?"
"Growing."
The left corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile when Deckard chuckled. "Good."
"Hello, Letty." Owen's greeting went ignored. "It's been a while."
She walked past him, fist clenched, and followed the centre aisle towards a row of cars parked at the far end of the warehouse. A black Dodge Challenger was among them — had Hobbs ordered it specifically for Dom? — and a slick cherry red Corvette sat next to it. At the end, raised up on a jack, sat an olive green car just over four and a half feet tall, with its front bumper falling off and tyres shredded.
Parked behind it, however, was Hobbs' Gurkha. In comparison, it made the Zhiguli look even smaller.
"The cold shoulder treatment never did suit you, Letty." A dozen or more feet behind him, Hobbs, Deckard and Toretto were moving in his general direction. There was something different about her now, Owen thought, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. "Nor that kind of childish pettiness."
"Fuck off, Shaw."
They were here? Elizabeth lifted her head and peered over the windshield of the Marussia F2 she was currently sitting in. And had Owen just said Letty? She sat up, quietly slipped out of the supercar — the seats were just as soft as they looked, the leather uncracked and well-maintained — then approached them as casually as possible.
"You haven't changed a bit." No one could've failed to hear the amusement in Owen's voice. "I guess this means I'll see you around."
"Wow." She stepped in-between them, pushing Owen back. Letty?, Elizabeth mouthed, that's her? "I get dragged halfway around the world and you don't even introduce me."
The look in Owen's eyes said Elizabeth was intruding where he didn't want or need her, and Letty's scoff said she was two seconds from walking away. "We were having a conversation, now go back to your desk, Anna."
"If I recall, the woman told you to, and I quote, fuck off, Owen." Beth gave him a smile before she glanced down at her fist. Clearly there was more of a history there than Owen had first let on about. What else had he failed tell her? "Now why don't you go run and cry to Deckard about the mean girls?"
Behind her, Letty chuckled and stepped back, moving around them quickly. Dom stood in front of his Dodge with the hood propped open, gazing down at the engine. That was as perfect an escape route as any. "Nice girlfriend you got there, Shaw. I like her better than the last one."
"What the hell was that?" Owen hissed once Letty was out of earshot. He grabbed Beth's arm and turned her around, facing away from the rest of the team. "I don't need any help handling her."
"You were being rude, and I needed an in."
"Toretto will never trust you."
"I don't need him to. Just her. Plus you didn't mention how hot she is."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Really? Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. It was going to make the job a whole lot easier (and fun). If Owen could just pull his head out of his arse and see the opportunities, he'd understand. She patted him on the cheek then pushed past him, not attempting to hide the slight grin on her face.
"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Luke asked, approaching Elizabeth with his arms crossed. There was six feet between her and Toretto, and Hobbs didn't plan on letting her get within three of him. When she tried to sidestep him, Luke blocked her. "You two look like a couple of gossipy old women standing over there."
"Teaching my brother a lesson about how to talk to women. Maybe you haven't noticed but he's kind of a bastard."
"You can say that again." If Owen was her brother, that explained the hair, the eyes. Jesus, there were three Shaws now? Where had she been and why hadn't Owen mentioned her (or Deckard, for that matter). "Hobbs, let's get this team meeting started."
Elizabeth took the opportunity to step around Luke and lean against the Corvette. Red wasn't exactly her colour but it didn't take a genius to notice how Letty was looking at the car. Clearly it was hers. Classy and beautiful? Why the hell had Owen let her slip through his fingers? "So . . . do I get to know the name of the woman I'm working with?"
"Hands off, Beth," Deckard called out. He glanced across at Ortiz and his sister, noticing the smile on her face and the way her eyes lit up. Dom didn't seem to be paying much attention, but the last mission had made it clear Ortiz could look after herself. "She's married."
"And you're not. Clearly she knows something you don't."
Some military-civilian relationships just didn't last. It was an unfortunate truth. "Oi."
"The name's Letty."
"Elizabeth."
"Owen called you—"
She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "He likes playing the birth name card when he's grumpy."
"And your surname is . . ."
"Shaw." Elizabeth held out her hand towards Letty. "Or Volkova, if you'd like to make things a little easier."
"Ortiz." Letty grinned and shook it. At face value, Shaw No. 3 seemed nice enough, but Letty wasn't about to drop her guard. She'd seen how dangerous both Deckard and Owen were up close, and something about this woman had Letty's instincts suggesting she was just as lethal. "I guess I should say it's nice to meet you, Shaw."
"Likewise."