The Fast And The Furious 3
By Zach Sweigart
DISCLAIMER : This story is a work of fiction and does not pertain nor have any affiliation with related characters, vehicles, or settings described in the 2001 film The Fast And The Furious or the 2003 film 2 Fast 2 Furious, which are both property of Universal Studios Inc. All characters, vehicles, and other objects are used under license of Universal Studios Inc. and should not be copied and/or borrowed without the consent of Universal Pictures. All rights reserved.
CHAPTER ONE
It was a bright sunny morning in Piedmont, Arizona. The weather was blistering hot on this particular day in the downtown warehouse district of the city. Along a battered road lay a very long and old storehouse. The faded words along its side once read Smith's Wheat Co. and most of the tall windows had broken or missing panes of glass, the remains of which was now turned to a bleak yellow color. Inside the dilapidated building, a single light bulb illuminated a small card table with stacks of money and various important-looking files. Around the table were some six or so men, their faces almost undistinguishable due to the dim lighting. The taller one that wore an expensive Italian suit spoke.
"This should be the last run. After the hit on Dresden Motors, It'll be a long vacation for everyone. Those cops aren't too dumb and neither are the Feds. I'm tired of them breathing down our necks."
Most of the men were dead silent as he talked. Then a scruffy-looking man with a mustache took a position:
"We already have most of the hot ones in transit. We don't need this, Ferrell."
The man addressed as Ferrell countered.
"You don't run things here!" he boomed, "I decide how things go! Cole." he said to a man wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket. "Make sure the cars are ready."
"Of course." The man proceeded to an electrical box not more than ten feet from the place where the conversation was taking place. He opened it and flipped on every one of the black switches. In a methodical order, huge halogen lights lit up the vast building. When all were activated, their glow revealed the glistening paint jobs and body work of almost twenty cars. The machines were rare exotics, ranging from Ferraris to Lamborghinis to Aston Martins. Cole and some other men, probably mechanics, approached the cars and gave them a brief inspection.
Outside the warehouse, across the street, a Nissan Skyline sat idling in the parking lot of a restaurant that had since then been abandoned. The car was silver in color, and sported a full C-West body kit and rear wing with blue racing stripes which ran the entire length of the body. Even when at a stand still, the Skyline appeared menacing and engine rumbled and growled as if trying to break free from its bonds. Inside the car sat a blond-haired, muscular man in his late twenties. He wore a tense expression on his face as he glanced at the old warehouse. Over the waves of his radio came the conversation going on inside the building that he watched so intently.
After a short moment, another sound came over a hand-held radio which lay on the passenger bucket seat.
"Lieutenant O'Conner, we are ready to move in. Do you copy?"
He picked up the radio and addressed the man speaking.
"I copy. Do not roll until you get my signal, understand?"
"Ten-four."
Unknown to the men inside the warehouse, Lieutenant Brian O'Conner was one of nearly forty police officers waiting in ambush outside. They each had perfectly concealed spots from which to surprise their prey. In all, it was a cleverly conceived plan.
All of a sudden, a distinguishable hum was emitted from the warehouse. The two battered wooden doors flung open and the sound became more intense. Not a spilt second later, a yellow Ferrari 360 and a red Mazda RX-7 led their comrades out of the warehouse.
"All units move!" came the report from Brian. None of the officers had to be told twice. In the same manner as the exotics had appeared, the black and white Police cruisers rushed out in a flurry of red and blue flashing lights. Brian's Skyline also joined the fray as he took pursuit of the red Mazda.
Brian's eyes carefully scanned the foreign sports car. "Nothing out of the ordinary." he thought. "But it does look very familiar." Some thing about its color and Veilside body kit gave Brian a sense of Déjà vu. Suddenly, the Mazda careened to side, narrowly hitting two lamp posts, as it plowed its way through a dark alley. With lighting-fast reflexes, Brian guided his silver Skyline through the narrow opening.
The Mazda had speed up, now a hundred feet off. Brian dropped the hammer on his car and the twin-turbo R34 engine roared as it accelerated down the small road. The gap was beginning to close. Then, out of no where, came a huge garbage disposal truck via a small side street. The driver wore a look of horror as he saw the Nissan approach, though he would probably not sustain any injury in the case of a collision.
"Whoa there!" Brian pressed hard on the brakes. The tires squealed as his car skidded to a stop, just inches from mammoth truck. Quickly, he shifted to reverse and backed out as fast he could go.
When he reached the entrance to the alley, he pulled a J-turn and continued down the adjoining street. A couple blocks down was a park. Brian looked side-ways as he passed the playground and his eyes caught the distinct shape of the Mazda.
"Gotcha again." Brian said to himself. The Skyline screeched as it changed direction to that of target. There wasn't much traffic, so the driver of the Japanese coupe had no problem in accelerating quickly when he noticed the silver car coming at him like a heat-seeking missile.
But Brian only smiled as the red car moved ahead. Reaching beside him, he put his hand on two large round cylinders and quickly unscrewed the valves with labels reading "NOS (Nitrous Oxide System)". Brian activated a switch and a red light appeared on his dashboard, which told him the system was ready use. Removing the top of the gear shift revealed a small round button.
"Catch this, buddy."
A split-second after pressing the button, the Skyline redlined and quickly picked up momentum. Soon it was right alongside the Mazda. Brian threw a sidelong glance at the driver, but the tinted windows prevented a clear view. Turn his attention back to road made him wish he hadn't. Less than a mile ahead laid a drawbridge, and it was starting to rise up. There was no turning back now.
CHAPTER TWO
The buildings and traffic were blurred as the two car raced down the street towards the massive obstacle. Brian was pressed to his seat as he hit the ramp. Time seamed to slow down as both vehicles soared in the air. But no one could have expected what happened next.
The obvious fault of the driver of the Mazda caused it flip in mid-air. As the silver Skyline hit the ground, the red car went nose first, twisting the frame as it struck. Then it continued rolling, fast enough that the when it the ground a second time, a couple wheels and both doors were ripped away from the body.
Brian immediately slammed on brakes and pulled a three-sixty before halting. Finally, the Mazda came to rest in the middle of road. The officer jumped out to identify the driver, but in the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a flame which erupted from the rear of the totaled vehicle. Brian ran back and ducked behind his own car as the remains of the red sports car disintegrated. Fragments and pieces of debris rained down.
Curious onlookers stood around the wreckage gasping and whispering to each other. Before long, the sounds of Arizona State Troopers could be heard in the background. Within moments the black-and-white cruisers were on the scene, followed by a TV-7 News van. The lead car was a navy blue BMW M5, which bore no markings affiliating it with the law enforcement branch. The red flashing light on the dashboard was its only giveaway. Out of it emerged a dark-skinned man of medium height. He wore a detective badge on the right pocket of his coat. Brian swore under his breath.
"Hello, Bilkins, you picked a lovely day for a visit." Brian spoke, not exactly meaning every word. "Still on top of things as always."
The detective was not impressed. He eyed Brian with a frown.
"And you, O'Conner, still leaving a trail of destruction wherever you go. As always."
"But we put away Ferrell and his gang."
"Yeah, we had a search warrant for stolen cash, which we didn't find. Right now, all we have Ferrell's men are some outrageous speeding tickets and destruction of property. You're almost as bad as your buddy Roman Pierce."
"You searched the cars, right?" Brian asked, "There wasn't any money?"
"None, if you don't count the 43 cents we found in the seat cushion of one of the Mercedes."
"You're absolutely sure those cars belong to him?"
"Yes, the registration checks out. However we will impound the cars for two weeks under the circumstances. Now if you don't mind, I have to fill out a death report."
Detective Bilkins turned and left to survey the damage done. Some how, Brian got the impression that he was not at all well liked by the law enforcement official. No matter now though, he thought, time to report back to headquarters. Soon, the silver Skyline rumbled quietly as it headed home.
"That was close, probably to close." Ferrell said. He was sitting behind a huge Mahogany desk in a high rise office building of equal monstrosity. The building was located in the heart of Dallas, Texas; sandwiched between a parking garage and a Hilton Hotel.
Ferrell's office itself was decorated with objects and artifacts from all over the world, most of them weapons and torture devices. These things adorned the dark red walls and tan carpet. All other trim was accented in the same Mahogany as the desk. Around the desk were three well dressed men, one of them smoking a cigar.
"So when can we expect payment, Ferrell?" the taller one asked, "Your little problem in Arizona didn't slow you down, did it?"
"Of course it didn't. Your cars worked like gems." Ferrell answered, lighting a cigar himself. "And the phony registrations really came in quite handy."
Ferrell stood up from his desk and walked over to the huge windows overlooking the city.
"The cars are already across the border and on the ship." he said confidently.
No sooner had he completed his sentence then his phone rang.
"Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen."
They obliged and quickly left the office. Ferrell answered the phone: "Ferrell here."
"This is Vince."
Ferrell seemed annoyed: "What's so damned important that you need to call me right now?"
"I've just spotted that silver Skyline that gave us trouble earlier."
"So?"
"I ran the plates through the DMV mainframe. The car belongs to Lt. Brian O'Conner, LAPD."
Ferrell sank back in his chair slowly as he pondered the news.
"LAPD cop. In our neighborhood. They might have a clue about what's going on."
"Anything you want me to do?"
"Yes. Kill him." Ferrell slammed the phone down on the receiver. Shortly after, he ushered the men back inside.
"Is there a problem?" one of them asked.
"A small one. It's taken care of now."
Back in Arizona, Vince kept a distance from Brian's Skyline as he trailed in his personal car, a 1995 Honda NSX, yellow in color with black accents. Traffic was starting to disperse and the sky was now turning a darker shade of blue, then orange, and then red. Before long, the streets were awash in the glow of street lamps.
Brian was now on Highway 56 heading back to his apartment. The posted speed limit was 75 mph and the undercover officer made sure he was not moving any slower than allowed. He wasn't expecting something to go wrong, but just the same he didn't want to waste any time getting back.
Vince followed at a distance, never moving his eyes from the road lest he should loose his target. The hitman decided that he had to take this cop out of the picture soon, while they were still on open highway. Making up his mind, he shifted to third gear and slowly pressed the accelerator. The NSX closed in on the silver Nissan.
Brian looked through his rear-view mirror just as the yellow car was approaching. Through the Honda's front window he saw that the driver was holding a 12-gauge shotgun. Quickly, he stomped on the gas and roared off.
"Dammit!" Vince muttered, "He must've seen me." The hitman also sped away towards the Skyline.
The highway was nearly deserted so it didn't take long for the chase to pick up speed. Brian glanced only quickly at his speedometer. 120 mph and accelerating. His pursuer wasted no time in catching up. Soon the two cars were head to head, racing down the highway.
Vince pulled up his shotgun and aimed for the driver's window of the Skyline. Brian turned his head just in time to see his enemy take aim. He quickly pressed the brakes and the NSX blew right past him. But the hitman had fired and now three small holes were placed in the Nissan's hood.
"Shit! Not again." Brian groaned. Fortunately, the damage was only skin deep. The twelve-gauge buck shot hadn't harmed the engine.
Vince finally realized that he had met his match at driving. Coming up behind a semi, he veered right and took the first exit ramp. Right behind him was one fast and furious Lt. O'Conner. Brian glanced quickly at the green exit sign: "Phoenix". He pulled out his Glock 9mm pistol. Just in case, he thought.
The yellow NSX cut to the right as soon as he was off the ramp. The Skyline followed, narrowly missing being T-boned by a late model Mustang. The chase had also caught the attention of Phoenix Police Cruiser. It's red and blue lights flashed as it pulled a U-turn to join the pursuit.
Horns blared and tires squealed as traffic dodged the speeding vehicles. Vince had an edge, but the road was getting narrower. Brian saw his window of opportunity. He pressed the brakes and cranked the wheel hard to the right. The Skyline skidded sideways and halted. The officer whipped out his gun and fired three rounds into the Honda. The third shot hit its mark, striking the left rear tire of the hitman's car.
Vince lost control and spun out, hitting a light pole before stopping. He quickly grabbed his shotgun and jumped out of the totaled vehicle. Just as Brian ran towards the wreck, Vince cracked of a shot, causing his pursuer to duck behind a mail box.
When Brian stood up, gun trained, he resumed his chase. Soon he caught sight of the suspect. Vince had run into the parking lot of a 7-11 Gas Station. Across from him, a man was parking his Ducati 996 motorcycle.
The hitman threatened the rider with his weapon and hopped on the bike. By the time Brian reached the spot, his target was long gone. He walked back to spot where he left his car and exchanged information with the Policeman who had joined him in his chase.
CHAPTER THREE
"So some hooligan in a Honda cracked a shot at your hood and you gave way to the second most destructive chase of the day?" The all too familiar voice of Detective Bilkins boomed as he spoke. He was holding a conference with Brian and another detective at Bilkins' hotel room.
"This guy was connected." Brian said, "The way he drove, he had to be a hired guy. Probably was given the job by Ferrell."
"Is this the kind of intelligence I can expect from you, O'Conner?"
"Okay, you pull off a 120 mph chase in a crowded city without killing someone or yourself."
"You don't have the room to talk back!" the detective bellowed. "You're here to help us solve this case because you're a good cop, not to run a demolition derby. If we wanted that we would have called Roman Pierce!"
Brian got up and paced the small hotel room impatiently.
"What about that guy in the red Mazda?" he asked.
"Charred beyond recognition." Bilkins said, "You should know that."
"Give me a couple of days to crack this thing down. I might have some leads."
The detective looked at his comrade. The other man nodded. He turned to Brian: "Alright, but this is your last chance." He wore a very serious expression.
"Great, but there's one problem." Brian said.
"What's that?"
"I need a new car."
Along a stretch of highway, just outside Phoenix, the quiet desert morning was disturbed as a flash of red blurred the plain landscape. Brian O'Conner had just secured himself a 1998 Mitsubishi 3000GT, courtesy of the L.A.P.D. The machine had only 320 horses running under the hood and a bright red exterior. The officer sat firmly but comfortably in the black leather bucket seats and smiled with each subsequent rev of the turbo-charged motor. The car was nothing special as it was now, but Brian saw the potential that it held. His first stop: Racer's Edge in Los Angeles.
It took a while to get to the parts store, but Brian never forgot the way there. He spent a lot of time thinking about that Mazda back in Phoenix. He remembered how he had lost his green Eclipse to its driver, Dominic Toretto. Soon, he parked his red Mitsubishi in front of his old workplace. He smiled as he stepped and noticed that the old fake race car was still hanging above the sign. Hasn't changed a bit, Brian thought.
As he walked through the doors, he was greeted by a familiar face.
"Hello, how may I help you?" said a tall man in his late forties. Shortly, he recognized the tall blond-haired visitor. "Brian, is that you?"
"You bet."
"Good to see you again. How goes life?" Harry said.
"Pretty good. Hey man, I need you to hook me up."
"What do have in mind?"
"Wondered if you had any parts for a '98 3000GT."
"I just got some T-66 turbos and kits from Bomex and Veilside. And...", he picked up a round blue cylinder, "Lots of NOS."
"Sounds good." Brian smiled, "How soon can I get it?"
"We can start installation tonight."
Somewhere across the street from Ferrell's office building laid a tall modern art sculpture in the center of a glowing water fountain. The light was sparse and gave an eerie feeling to the rest of the park, if it could be called as such. Ferrell himself sat at one of the many concrete benches with a tense and annoyed expression. Soon his composure changed as he saw a black speed bike approach and park nearby. The rider got off and spoke.
"We've got an issue here." Vince said.
"Correction." Ferrell said, never turning his head, "You've got an issue. What the hell am I paying you for?"
"He got away and he'll probably get a new car."
"You know more about him than you're telling me."
"Let me put it this way; he has a way of pulling off the unexpected, so don't turn your back on him ." Vince eyed his boss seriously. After a brief pause, he spoke again. "I didn't say this would be easy."
Vince walked away and hopped back on his new bike. Ferrell watched him carefully as he drove off into the night.
"Lets get to work." Brian and a small crew employed by Harry started work on the long overhaul that Brian's car needed. The engine was ripped out, the interior removed and an Apex racing body kit was getting primered. Every component of the car was upgraded; wheels, suspension, exhaust. And all with top-line brands from Racing Hart, Sparco, Veilside, and Yokohama. For paint, Brian chose blue metallic with gold graphics and anodized rims. The 320 horsepower engine was upgraded with T-66 turbochargers and cold-air intake manifold.
The finished product was absolutely amazing, The blue and gold Mitsubishi looked stunning in the sunlight as the crew rolled it out of the garage. They had just finished a dyno run and all their hard work had made 560 horsepower at all four wheels with 543 lb/ft of torque.
"Time to give it a trial run, Brian." Harry smiled as he opened the door.
"I don't how to thank you guys." Brian replied, "You did a great job."
Brian hopped in and took a few seconds to take in the new interior. It was color coordinated with exterior and he felt right at home in the fiberglass Sparco seats and Simpson racing harness. He turned the key and couldn't help but smile when he heard the engine's silky idle. He pressed the accelerator and listened to rpms rise and fall.
"I hope you're ready," Brian said quietly to himself, "'Cause when this baby roars, you're goin' down."
"Well don't just sit there." a voice called Brian back to reality. "Let it loose."
"You got it."
Shortly, Brian bid Harry and his crew goodbye and speed off to find the open highway. Coming up the on-ramp, he looked left and saw a red and yellow Acura Integra sporting a Wings West body kit. The African-American driver also acknowledged Brian's blue 3000GT and gave a nod. The driver of new car nodded back. In seconds, both cars had accelerated well over the posted limit.
Brian was in third gear and pushing 80 mph while just behind the Acura. He quickly pressed the clutch and shifted to fourth as the yellow light on the tachometer told him to do so. But the Acura was also increasing speed. It blasted ahead, a blue flame emitted from the exhaust pipe signaled to Brian that he had just used his nitrous.
Brian shifted to fifth while dodging an SUV and soon caught up. The two cars were now head to head. The Acura's driver looked at the blue Mitsubishi in horror as realized his downfall.
That guy hasn't even used his NOS yet!
Brian smiled and punched one the small red buttons on his racing wheel. The 3000GT blazed away, leaving the red Acura far behind. Brian glanced up at his rear-view mirror in time to see his opponent pound on the dashboard and shout. Hmm, Brian thought, He must be a sore loser.
After slowing down to a suitable cruising speed, Brian pulled out his cell-phone from the clip on his belt. He dialed a number and was immediately responded to: "Detective Bilkins here."
"This is O'Connor." Brian replied.
"It's about time. Are you ready for your next assignment?"
"Hell yeah."
"We have a contact down in Baja, Mexico. Go down there and meet up with her. She'll be meeting you Thursday at the Siesta Inn."
"I'm on my way."
With out further instruction, Brian changed lanes and roared off towards Mexico. This case was about to take him further in the past than he knew.
CHAPTER FOUR
The hot desert sun beat down harshly on the highway. Brian rolled down the windows and silently wished that Harry's boys hadn't removed the air conditioning during the Mitsubishi's overhaul. The wind rushed loudly across the sleek import as the light made the blue paint more brilliant. Briand lifted his gaze from the dashboard in time to see a green highway marker: "Mexico - Arizona Border: 100 miles".
He reached in the glove compartment to retrieve his identification for the border patrol. Upon opening the compartment, he noticed a small gray box with a yellow cable running from it. He quickly slammed it shut braked hard, parking on the side of the deserted highway.
Forcefully he opened the door and ran around the other side, yanking the passenger door. Careful examination of the box confirmed his frustration. Bilkins pulled that shit again! He thought, The bastard rigged the whole car. Slamming the door, he got back inside and contemplated the situation. Slowly, he started the car again and proceeded back on his route to the border.
In fifteen minutes, he arrived at a small town called Portage, as indicated on its prominent welcome sign. The town was about five miles outside of Tucson. Brian drove slowly among the old buildings and businesses, most of which seemed to be privately owned. Soon, he arrived at a red light.
Waiting at the light he looked left and some thing caught his gaze. Across the street was a used car dealership. There, among old Lincolns, Fords, and Oldsmobiles, sat a very familiar sight. It was one Brian had not seen for a long, long time. Gleaming in Lamborghini Orange was Brian's old '94 Toyota Supra. Without hesitation, he quickly drove into the dealer parking lot.
Brian got out and approached the car slowly, as if he were afraid to wake it from its slumber. Thoughts raced to his mind of how he had raced it against a Ferrari, evaded armed motorcyclists, helped a known street racer escape jail time. This car had helped him do all of that. The pictures were as real as if they had happened yesterday.
A salesman presently came out to greet him.
"Thinking about a nice, fast ride? We've got a good deal going on today."
"Yeah," Brian said, "I was just wondering, how'd you get this car?"
"Oh this car's been here awhile. About six months. No takers." The salesman answered, "A guy came here wanting to trade it in for something different. He bought a red Chevelle if I recall. Would you prefer a muscle car instead?"
"No," Brian said, trying to keep on topic, "The previous owner, do you remember him?"
"Yeah, he was very well-built." The salesman recalled, "Had a real deep voice. I tell ya, he'd stand out anywhere really."
That sounded a lot like some one Brian knew. After thinking a few minutes, Brian got an idea.
"Could I trade you my ride for it?" he asked, nodding his head towards his blue and gold Mitsubishi 3000GT.
"Well," the salesman scratched his head as he looked at the car, "I don't see why not."
The desert night, normally a quiet and peaceful scene, was abruptly awakened by a lighting flash of orange and silver as a speeding Toyota Supra jolted across the highway. With the headlights illuminating the road ahead, Brian couldn't contain himself. The car hadn't changed a bit, and that was a good thing! He felt right at home amidst the black and blue suede interior listening to the JDM Spec engine roar under the TRD hood. The car's Bomex body kit ripped through the night air with great ease and the Yokohama tires gripped the road fast and steady.
Approaching the border patrol guards, Brian slowed to a stop. A dark-skinned officer came to his window. Brian rolled it down and flashed the officer his police department clearance. After giving it a once over and a brief call to the authorities, the man raised the gate and allowed the orange Supra clearance. With a wave, Brian continued down the dark highway.
By morning, Brian was awoken from his slumber in the front seat of his car. The noise that awakened him was a finely tuned import zipping by his parking spot in front of an old motel. The car was a metallic purple Nissan 240SX, with familiar Troy Lee graphics ripped around a stoplight and continued south.
"Holy Shit! That was Letty's car!" Brian said to himself as he recognized the ride. Quickly, he jolted up and started up the Supra. Backing out, the rear tires screeched as he peeled out of the parking lot. His mind was focused on one thing: catching that car.
By the time Brian had caught the purple Nissan in his sights, his quarry had slowed back down the posted speed limits and was obeying all traffic laws. Further investigation of the crowded Baja City streets revealed many Mexican Police cars on patrol. Although the tiny Ford Fiestas would probably not pose a significant threat to the highly-tuned imports, both drivers probably thought it best to avoid confrontation. Brian kept a good following distance.
Trailing the Nissan for about an hour led Brian to a newer part of Baja City. In this section, many new houses had gone up in a seemingly high-class suburbia neighborhood. The houses here were mostly tan or pink stucco with palm trees adorning both front and back yards. Most houses had round-about driveways and swimming pools.
Parking in the street, christened "Oceania Drive", the driver of the Nissan finally got out and approached a large two-story house with tile roofing. Much to Brian's disappointment, the driver was not Letty. His quarry was a shorter man in his early thirties with slicked-back hair and a New Jersey Nets basketball jersey.
"Leon!" Brian said aloud to himself. He debated going up to visit the house. If Dom were there would he welcome Brian, or reject him? Would he try to get rid of him when he recognized the Supra? And was Mia with them? Brian hoped she was in good hands. He worried about her night and day since Vince's accident.
Without much to go on, Brian decided it was best to check into a hotel and meet up with Bilkin's contact.
In Ferrell's office building in Phoenix the notorious businessman was making a telephone call in his private office. Most of the employees, if not all, had gone home for the night and the building was almost dead silent.
"Yes, I do have a man working on the inside, but he's turned out to be a jackass." Ferrell referred to Vince with a hint of annoyance, "He's getting unceremoniously discharged. With law enforcement following a blind lead, I would pay handsomely for someone of your stature to help me with this 'transaction'."
"Oh," the other voice said, chuckling, "That's what you call it."
"You can call it what you want, Mr. Nguyen."
"And that asshole, O'Connor; he will pay, yes?"
"Of course. He's yours after the job's done."
"He will pay for killing my cousin!" the voice raged, "That is dishonor to my family! He must die if I have to kill him myself!"
"I can arrange that, Mr. Nguyen." Ferrell smiled, "I believe we have an agreement?"
"Yes. Yes of course."
Ferrell placed the phone gently back down on the receiver and turned to meditate on the Phoenix skyline as he reclined in his chair.
CHAPTER FIVE
Night was now falling on the city of Baja, Mexico. Parking in front of a high-class Mexican Hotel dubbed "Siesta Inn". Yeah, Brian thought to himself, I could use one of those. He soon chose a space closer to the back of the building so his car would not raise much suspicion. After making sure the sports car was locked, he proceeded to the front desk of the fancy hotel. The young desk clerk greeted him as he entered the lobby.
"Buenos Dias." Brian said, "Is there a room for Brian O'Connor?"
"Yes." the desk clerk smiled, "The young lady is all ready here."
Brian scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. He wasn't supposed to meet Bilkin's contact at the hotel. Some one must have posed as the contact to gain access to the room!
The clerk handed Brian the keys: "It's room 204, senor."
Brian took the keys and pocketed them. He quickly darted toward the hotel stairwell and readied his Glock 9mm. He kept the gun under his jacket so as not to scare the other residents of the hotel. When he reached the room, he carefully placed his hand on the door handle and slowly turned it. The door turned out to be unlocked. Brian thought he heard voices coming from the room.
Quickly, Brian kicked the door in and trained his gun. A tall Hispanic woman sat on the bed watching television. She just smiled.
"You can put the gun away, O'Connor." she said.
Brian was still a little surprised.
"Yeah," he fumbled, realizing it was Monica Fuentes, "Of course."
"Do you always barge in like that?" Monica asked.
"Bilkins didn't tell me it was you. How'd you get in the room?"
"That's not important." she answered sharply, "What Bilkins really wants to know is why he can't seem to get a hold of you. You have a God damned cell phone don't you?"
Brian's thoughts flashed back to the day before. He remembered that he'd forgotten his cell phone in his Mitsubishi when he traded it in. But he wanted to avoid telling Monica that if at all possible.
"Oh man," Brian said as he slapped his forehead, "I lost it!"
"What?" Monica shouted. Then, realizing that she was yelling, toned her voice down. "How'd that happen?"
"When I got to the border, they made me get out of the car to search." Brian carefully fabricated the story, "It either slipped out or got stolen. I'm guessing it was a low charge by now too."
"Well," Monica said, calming down, "I'll call Markham and get you a new one."
"Markham is working on this too?"
"Yeah, of course." she answered, "He's the one who initiated investigation of Ferrell's 'businesses'. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."
With that, she turned to crawl into the bed and turned out the lights. Brian took the other bed and tried to sleep. He knew he'd have to play along with the lie about his phone being lost, but he couldn't risk Bilkins finding out about his new ride. Brian also knew that a phone call while undercover in the street racing scene would give him away too easily.
Crash! No sooner had Brian closed his eyes then the sound of the hotel window shattering into million pieces rocked the room. Monica quickly woke up with a scream. Brian jumped up and peered through the broken window in time to see black Honda S2000 roar off into the night. He turned around to make sure Monica wasn't harmed. Wasting no time, he threw his jacket on and ran outside to pursue the attacker. Monica followed right behind him.
"Who the hell was that?" she shouted as they piled into the orange Supra, "Friends of yours?"
"No," Brian fired back, "But I think we may have met before!"
The Supra made haste and zoomed out of the parking lot at full throttle, careful to dodge parked cars in the process. Brian drove like mad through the quiet Mexican city in an attempt to locate the black Honda. Soon it was apparent that they had lost their quarry. After slowing down at an intersection, the sound of loud rap music reached Brian's ears. He turned in the direction of the noise.
After turning left down a four-lane road, the couple saw multiple bright headlights bathing the surrounding buildings in white light. As they approached, it appeared that the head lights belonged to a Toyota Celica and Mitsubishi Eclipse. The two cars were parked in a diagonal fashion, obviously with the intent to block the street. Brian pulled over and got out. A short Asian man greeted him.
"Hey man!" he waved, "Sweet ride! Never seen you around here before."
"Yeah I'm new here." Brian answered as they approached the main event, "What's going down tonight?"
"Man, it's unreal. Toretto is killing 'em all."
"Toretto?" Brian asked. He couldn't believe his ears. Could it be?
"Yeah man." the Asian went on, "He's been firing up the streets for about four months now."
The entire portion of El Gado Street was lined with modified imports; Hondas, Nissans, and even a few BMWs. Everyone's head was turned towards the northern end of the street, where three cars sat poised and ready.
The first car was white Honda Del Sol. It had red and gold arrow graphics emblazoned on the side and sported a Veilside body kit and rims to match. The second car was a red Acura RSX. It also appeared race-ready with its Mugen body kit and golden wheels. The last car was a brand-new Nissan 350Z. It was silver in color with black and orange eagle graphics on the sides and on the custom hood. It had a Nismo body kit, which Brian knew was rare, and emitted an orange glow from beneath its chassis. The chrome SSR wheels completed the package. This third car was truly unique and distinct.
CAST
Brian O'Connor………………..…………………………………………………………………Paul Walker
Dominic Toretto……………….…………………………………………………………………...Vin Diesel
Mia Toretto……………………………………………………………………………….…Jordana Brewster
Agent Bilkins……………………………………………………………………………………..Thom Berry
Agent Markham………………………………………………………………………………….James Remar
Leon…………………………………………………………………………………………….Johnny Strong
Vince……………………………………………………………………………………………..Matt Schulze
Letty……………………………………………………………………………………….Michele Rodriguez
Lance Nguyen……………………………………………………………………………………...Reggie Lee
Monica Fuentes…………………………………………………………………………………...Eva Mendez
Harry……………………………………………………………………………………………..Vyto Ruginis
Davis Ferrell