The Assistant Director was pushing papers around his desk, wrapping up case files and checking the status of a few ongoing ones. His eyes were sore and heavy under the strong light of his office. Thankfully, he hadn't been on his computer much, the thing had even been sitting idle so long that those little stars were shooting out towards him. His third cup of coffee was cold and his pen was running low on ink, but despite all the trouble of the desk job - the long hours and lack of vacation time not withstanding - he had pride enough to continue forward day by day. That push sent him through each file on his desk, inevitably leading back to an open case that had him taking a deep breath before picking it up and opening it.
Case #: X 771563256 was in his jurisdiction, but it had tripled in size upon combining with another active case from down in another wing. The Assistant Director wiggled his computer mouse and opened a program, typed in a few logins and passwords, and was redirected to the latest update on the joint missions.
He read quietly for some time, undisturbed by phone calls or his office assistant. In the end, his eyes closed and he sat back.
This whole thing was getting out of hand.
Before worry set in a new thought crossed the Assistant Director's mind. What had it said on a file he'd just buried under the mountain of other files that were on his desk? He sorted through again, pulling out the case he was sorry to say still wasn't closed, but was at least maintained. More importantly, this case from the Czech Republic had just concluded the need for the skills of one team of special agents, making them free to perhaps pick up the slack in LA. Well, if the special agent would agree to help, anyway. The Assistant Director knew how tired an agent may be after a long case, and Agent Luke Hobbs had done tremendous work on that NSA case in Prague.
But it couldn't hurt to call and ask if Luke Hobbs was willing to fly to LA and help sort out this problem. It was ten in the morning here, and if Hobbs had boarded the flight yesterday, he may have already landed back in the States. The Assistant Director picked up his phone and dialed a number.
Excerpt of Case #: X 771563256:
"It is unknown what molecular construction of energy was emitted during the centralized earthquake nine years ago at the Tucson juvenile detention center, but I firmly suspect that it drastically altered the minds of an unknown number of juveniles. There is no record of any adult being affected in the area, or of any triplet scenarios, so the causalities are restricted to pairs now in their early or mid twenties. The pairs do not share any traceable mental connection; to elaborate, they are not psychic or have any extra sensory perception. However, half the causalities are no longer individuals, but overlaid representations of the lower bunkmate delinquent's interests, temperament, and perceptions. There are also clear signs of the upper bunkmate's extreme vanity or disdain for themselves, depending on the opinion of the lower bunkmate of them at that time. I believe I have traced nine suicides back to the latter perception.
"There remains one overlying feature of each and every person affected in this scenario, and that is that all interviewed has a lack of ownership of worldly possessions, as if unwilling to fill their personal surroundings even if they have access and wealth. I am to assume the location of the event taking place in empty detention cells has locked the minds of the victims in a barren landscape. All show discomfort with clutter and own scarcely more than the bare necessities. Some of the affected were incarcerated as adults and have attested to feeling more comfortable in a cell than in a home. More than one subject has in their home a completely empty room or closet that has been described as a sanctuary.
"In the ongoing evaluation of Brian O'Conner and Roman Pierce, it is my opinion that O'Conner is the dominant mentality. His desire to join the police force was developed at a young age from repeated police visits. Police records from Barstow indicate a number of domestic violence calls and one arrest with conviction of pedophilia from an unrelated male, whereas Pierce had no traceable interaction with police until his teenage years. An interview of O'Conner, conducted by three renown experts in their fields, indicate he has a controlled mental state and a genuine feeling of responsibility towards others, seeking to bring order to an environment. The pair has an identical goal to serve and protect the community, but only O'Conner has progressed his goal to attain even higher accolades by taking risks, which is a feature apparent with other dominant subjects.
Luke Hobbs read through every file on the case in Tucson and the one in LA assigned to Agent Bilkins. He also watched and listened to the recorded footage taken by those three renown experts in their fields (and pigs could fly), but still the highly skilled federal agent for the DSS found this whole thing unfathomable bullshit and a new level of crazy. He didn't know who these two FBI agents in Arizona were, but they freaked him out.
But he'd already agreed to the job the Assistant Director asked him to do. Just focus on the new hang-up with Johnny Tran, he was told; the agents in Arizona wouldn't really get involved, which he was grateful for. He'd taken down all manner of criminals, but never had he been in the proximity of an investigation that would use extra-worldly as a reason for unusual behavior.
Agent Bilkins' case with the truck hijackings was just the relaxing vacation Hobbs needed after that hyped up anarchist business in Prague. He left some agents behind to continue the long work, but was able to bring in two of his taskforce to make this speedy work. He'd already made some calls to allies with weapons control and border patrol, and with the help of the skill of his man Wilks, they already had a strong link through Tran to Tokyo. Hobbs knew in just a few hours he'd have a complete web of Tran's network assessed.
He was about ten minutes out from LA, with the aircraft soon to make landing. He was fortunate enough to hitch a ride out with Air Force One who were coming this way. It was nice having these wide seats and the catering, and the internet access. He had just picked up his drink when he saw the icon blink in the corner of the screen he was working in front of. "New Entry" it said. He clicked, not expecting to read that update from the team in Arizona.
"Agent Hobbs, would you please write your own assessment of O'Conner and Pierce?"
Hobbs felt even more uncomfortable. He had to push that feeling down, but he honestly wasn't use to having other agents know his itinerary. Then again, this notice was made on the official X file, so perhaps he could rest assured that this was a long-shot that he'd have seen the message.
Still, it wasn't until Hobbs, Wilks, and Fresco made it to the confiscated safe house in LA that Hobbs rubbed all the goose bumps off his arms.
"Clear the premises first," Hobbs said quietly to his two guys as they walked up to the large estate. Wilks took it upon himself to veer around the side, going to circle the house and give his report. Hobbs and Fresco were greeted by Bilkins and invited in.
Bilkins had been told of his pending arrival. He knew the record of Agents Hobbs, but he hadn't expected him to be so…robotic. He steeled himself for the military bravado.
Bilkins swept his hand around. "Well, come on in. I'll get you up to date with what hasn't been put in the logs yet."
It was three in the afternoon and hot in LA. The blue sky baked the landscape, so it was a relief to enter the air-conditioning, especially because he still wore the heavy shirt and pants that were needed while in Prague from fourteen hours before. He saw the layout inside, specifically the low population of agents. Clearly this was an understaffed deal, something that had to be dealt with but that wasn't getting high funding. They were forking over the funds bringing Hobbs in, that he knew.
Bilkins looked miserable, but the LA Sergeant, Tanner, looked resolved. Hobbs had read both their files, and had nothing against the two of them. Tanner had the sort of look Hobbs respected, and Bilkins had years of experience taking down domestic terrorists. There were some guys on computers in the other room and a muscular and bald black man lounging on the sofa with his feet up, drinking in the afternoon news. This was Pierce. Hobbs couldn't help but let his eyes linger. It was like looking at a specimen, but not something alive…it was more like how one would view a mummified corpse: with morbid fascination and a lack of understanding of its manifestation. When Pierce cocked his head to the side, that was when he became more than a subject behind a view screen.
"Problem?" Greeted Pierce, looking irritated by something, catching onto Hobbs' raised eyebrow and intense look at him, and knowing there was something judgmental there.
"Introduction," Hobbs stated as what was going to happen next, voice echoing around the large estate, turning his gaze now to Bilkins who had answered the door and let them in. "I'm not going to find your truck hijackers, that's your job. I'm here to run the mess you all made with Tran. He's into international smuggling, that much we can bet. We just need to know locations, dates, and times, and we'll put him down."
"Then we'll be back on track," Bilkins agreed.
He led Hobbs and Fresco into that other room not separated by a door, just a large archway, where they had their boards up. It was the bullpen for sure. The two new agents immediately started studying it.
"As of about four hours ago," Bilkins went on, "the best plan of action we could agree upon was sending in another undercover officer to infiltrate Tran. We're hopeful this will negate any repercussions if we can bust him quickly. He controls the street racing scene in Little Saigon with an iron fist. He shoots up cars that pose a threat to his title, but seems to be graduating to forms of torture. The cops here would have a lot more business if people actually came forward and reported the things he's done."
"Too scared?" Hobbs asked.
"Too well paid to shut up, more likely," interjected Sergeant Tanner, looking hard at Hobbs and his man. "The influx of money he has coming in just can't be wholly accounted for."
"And the undercover agent you've chosen for me, what's the angle?"
Hobbs' question was met with Bilkins' raised eyebrows and Tanner's long drawn breath. If they had no one, then Hobbs was going to have to do this with recon work only. The fact they had anybody to help was…helpful; he wasn't going to say no if it was a viable option.
Hobbs again got the feeling this whole project was a bit too underfunded, and these two were stretching the limits.
"Johnny's cousin Lance," started Tanner hesitantly, when it seemed Bilkins was just a bit too shy to respond himself, "has a weakness for pretty guys. We can put an officer undercover as a hustler in a red-light district strip club he frequents."
"Huh? You have someone willing to do that?" Fresco blurted, looking dismayed.
Hobbs shot his man Fresco a disapproving look. But he had to admit, that was rather left field.
Tanner tilted his head. "This is LA, agent," he said complacently. "Get use to the new reality."
Hobbs inquired, "Who have you chosen to be the undercover officer?"
At that moment, both looked off behind Hobbs, so he and Fresco turned to see who had snuck up behind them.
Leaning against the door jamb was a familiar face, once seen in photos and on camera. He didn't give Hobbs any feelings like he was staring at a specimen of a mummy. Brian O'Conner was freaky, but that was part and partial to what he was wearing more so than the stuff written about him in file X. He had on a pair of shiny black board shorts and heavy boots that went up his ankles, more than likely taken from his SWAT uniform. There was a netted shirt hiding nothing over his chest and a leather jacket hooked on a finger at the collar and tossed over his shoulder. His arms were bare and damn if that wasn't a sense of humor showing as he took in their intense stare of him.
Brian said, "There's lots of outfits left here from the previous owner that I can use as my cover. She was about my size," Brian looked down at himself contemplatively, adding, "maybe a little tight on the chest, but loose enough on the hips."
"Fuck my life!" Hollered Roman from the living room.
Hobbs got the picture. He already knew the dynamic of Brian and Roman. He was without any doubt that Roman was getting to see every outfit Brian had been trying on, hence his already moody attitude. But Hobbs had just been told this was his UC. The depths O'Conner was in this had sunk to a new low.
Hobbs walked up slowly and met Brian nose to nose, neither a centimeter taller but Hobbs clearly bigger, chin lifted. Never a flinch from the LA cop. Just a brave stare of someone who had practice standing up for himself.
"You took the oath of a cop," stated Hobbs with a low tone, "and you're willing to believe this is the best way to fulfill that oath?"
That cockiness was gone, but the assuredness was still lively. "I'm the one who recommended this be the way. I know it will work."
He'd said along the lines of amazing machine, and it spiked Brian's inner alarm that he wasn't talking about the work he'd done on the GT-R when he said it. He knew the look of someone interested; seen it a hundred times or more. And all the other police work on Lance proved he was a guy with unique interests and a regular in the red-light district, specifically the kind of places Brian worked in the past to pick up pedophiles, drug dealers, and sex traders.
Hobbs stepped up more, right in his face. Nothing. It was impressive how locked down Brian was, because usually even his men would be quaking with this level of intensity Hobbs was directing at him.
"I read your file, O'Conner. You were a regular Fabio in San Francisco. Made a lot of arrests so Vice wouldn't let you go. But do you think a few months playing on the streets over there is going to set up your identity in a day in LA?"
Brian had a tell when something angered him; his brow tightened and his eyes looked more focused. It was something to see. Something Hobbs found impressive.
"Lance already made it clear enough he was interested. I just need to get in sight of him."
"Careful, there, new guy!" Called Roman Pierce, again from the other room. "One thing you don't want to do is discredit the hustler's abilities. He has a lot of pride in those lap dances and coke lines he use to do!"
Hobbs turned his neck to Pierce, challenging him to interrupt again. He felt Brian's eyes roving him while he was busy disapproving of Rome's loud mouth with one of his more wince-worthy glares.
"Hey, I'm just giving some friendly advice about our boy," Pierce said. "He takes things personal. Not good business."
"What sort of business are we in here, exactly, would you say?" Hobbs egged on.
Rome shrugged with his whole body, looking to shake off the tension reigning down on him. "Not the kind where we sell ourselves, obviously!"
It was a message for Brian that Rome just wasn't going to let drop.
Hobbs looked back. There really was something between these two; some sort of endlessness, caginess, bravado. Brian was all held in, and Rome was all smoothing things over into jokes, but they got on each other's nerves in a way that…yeah, made it seem like they were locked in a little concrete room together and had to get along still. Either of them could have walked away, but they just…kept at it, like walking away was unattainable.
Brian looked phased, and feeling like he had to explain the situation or risk Hobbs going on the attack against Rome, he said, "Officer Pierce has made a point not to condone my methods. Ever. Wants me covered in seven layers of priest robes and praying for forgiveness, or something like that."
Rome rolled his eyes and looked away, muttering loudly for all to hear, "Yeah, because you get yourself back on stage and stripping will just lead to getting beaten down to your knees and some fucker's dick shoved back in your mouth."
Brian whipped his head around. "Fuck off, Rome! Like you didn't know that shit's been happening to me my whole fucking life! What the fuck difference - "
"You're a shitty friend, Bri!" Roared Rome, shooting to his feet and darting forward.
"You're the shitty friend, Rome!"
"You need to cut this shit out already!"
"This shit's just life!"
Fresco stepped forward. He was barrier enough to stop Rome. And right then, Wilks came in from the front door. He was dressed the same as Hobbs and Fresco, so he wasn't wholly out of place. He looked around the room, gauging the situation, stepping up with Fresco and helping keep the peace silently.
Hobbs took a step away from Brian, taking him in again. There was a lot here. A whole fucking lot. Two FBI agencies standing in the room, with DEA on the sidelines. LAPD. SFPD. A dozen other people watching the progression. And at the center of it all, an X file with these two's names on it.
And Brian had a hickey on his neck. Hobbs hadn't noticed before.
"Stop the hissy fighting!" Hobbs shouted. He walked into the center of the room and looked at all of them, giving special attention to the two superior ranked officers in the room. "O'Conner is already in! I'm down for the cover and will pull my weight to keep him safe," he set his eyes on Rome, noticing the spark was still there for a fight. "He met Johnny Tran and Lance Nguyen when they exploded his GT-R after a street race, and so they know him already as a mechanic for Dominic Toretto. Who here is going to tell me that won't be a problem, considering he knows O'Conner is a cop and not this - " and he waved his hand around Brian, adding uneasily, " - this…butch surfer skin doll."
Everyone looked alarmed and impressed by his assessment.
"Wanna bring up Dominic Toretto now?" Rome said darkly.
"Put a muzzle on him!" Hobbs demanded. His two guys went right into Rome's space, effectively shutting him up with their twin steel looks.
"You're still not fully up to date with the most recent developments," stated Agent Bilkins, finally taking back the floor that he has so far felt sliding out from under him. Bilkins cleared his throat, trying to return his cool. "The hijacking case most likely has the Toretto's or a man called Hector behind it. Right now, it's likely both will be in hiding until our blunder with Tran is sorted. Brian got a call on his cell from Toretto that we recorded, we'll have you listen in here in a minute... He told Brian to stay away while Tran is looking for who else might be in on the bust."
"So Toretto won't be a problem?" Hobbs needed to know if that was part of the summary.
"No! Tell him the best part!" Rome snapped. He was handled by the team, shoved back but not handled too roughly.
"Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to knock the dumb right out of your skull!" Hobbs told him plainly. He knew his guys hated that he said this so much, but what the fuck ever; he liked how it sounded. He turned to Bilkins. "What's the best part?"
Bilkins tugged on his collar. He was showing with a new sheen of sweat. That nervousness was back. He rocked his head, thinking to himself for a moment, then carrying on.
"Officer O'Conner has the favor of Dominic Toretto. I can't trust a convicted felon who beat a guy bloody with a socket wrench, but O'Conner's convinced we won't have to worry about his new undercover identity being revealed if he has to get involved. Tran and Toretto have some history that makes them stay out of communication range. Something to do with Toretto sleeping with Tran's sister. So there's no reason Tran would go right to Toretto for information."
Hobbs took that all in. He processed it word for word, but still he wasn't getting the picture.
Rome was getting snappy with his two guys, too. Even Brian was looking at Bilkins waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was something more.
"That's the best part?" Hobbs asked firmly, rolling his exhausted expression over to Bilkins again.
Then he got the real dirt from Bilkins.
"He's in bed with Toretto."
And that made the angry hickey make more sense. It was also good to see Brian kept a calm disposition; not ashamed about any of the moves he was making. Again, Hobbs was reminded that one did what one had to weather the storm.
Hobbs couldn't help but smirk, then a full grin stretched over his face. Complicated as shit, but this was the vacation he was looking for. Something fun. He looked again, up and down Brian, and came to a solid conclusion.
"I can work with this."