Letty didn't have to be a mind-reader to know something was up. They'd planned on fixing their cars first, getting ready — Owen's rampcar was still days from being finished, her own needed the wheels replaced and the chassis protected — and yet here Hobbs was, telling them things had changed.

She understood Dom's concern. Letty had seen the aftermath of Deckard's fury, experienced Owen's first hand, but Cipher? All she had was…nothing. The bitch couldn't plot her way out of a paper bag. Her plane and computer were locked up, secured by Ramsey herself, but one 'message' had Hobbs and Dom running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Once the meeting was over, the plan set in motion, Letty left the group to talk amongst themselves and made her way upstairs to the kitchen. She needed a drink, something stronger than water, and a moment away from this bullshit.

No one, not even the sly English bastard to her left, had mentioned what the rest of the team would be doing. She hadn't wanted to bring it up at the table, but Hobbs had conveniently avoided the obvious question: would it be the eleven of them leaving? Or just nine?

Letty had left people behind before — if Ivory's dead, he made a mistake — and the consequences were less than pleasant. She'd also been on the other end of the situation. When Dom had abandoned her in Mexico, she'd been furious at the idea that he could look her in the eye, tell her it was ride or die, then throw her aside like she was no more than a dirty rag.

"Goddamn you, Dom," she muttered. Letty swung a cabinet door open, withdrew a bottle of bourbon set aside for 'cooking', and popped the lid. The first sip burned her throat, made her cough and splutter. The second went down a little easier. She fixed the lid back on and shoved the bottle back into the cabinet before anyone saw or asked if she wanted to share. "We didn't renew our vows so you could throw them back in my face."

If they hadn't said anything, Letty wondered, would Dom have just upped and left with Hobbs and the Shaws during the night, and not told them about Cipher's message? Would she have found out tomorrow morning once he was gone and yet another note sat on her bedside drawer? Shit. Letty seated herself on a chair and braced her arm on the back of it, resting her head in her hand. Where's a phone when you need one?

A call to Mia, or Elena, might have pulled her out of this funk. Hearing Marcus's incessant laugh and that high pitch giggle would've brought a smile to her face, but Letty wasn't allowed to have that much. No contact meant no contact, not so much as five seconds to hear her son's voice for the first time in days.

Being stuck here, not knowing if Elena, Mia and the kids were safe, was already pushing her towards breaking point after only a few days. Yet the way Hobbs had talked in the beginning suggested he expected them to be there for weeks, possibly months.

"You look like shit, dyevushka."

Letty looked up to see Elizabeth standing in the kitchen doorway. Had Shaw come from the bathroom, she wondered, or been standing in the corridor, watching as Letty dulled the ache in her chest with alcohol like some pathetic teenager? "Did you really just call me—"

"Sorry." Shaw immediately held both hands up. Most women (in Moscow) would've gone along with it, but not her. No, she couldn't be charmed by complimentary nicknames and sweet-talking. "Old habit."

"Just 'Letty' is fine."

"Sure." Beth scratched the back of her neck with her left hand, right shoulder resting against the door jamb. Gaze focused on the countertop behind Letty, she asked, "…What's got you sitting in the dark then?"

There were so many things that it was hard to pick just one. She was tired of the bullshit, the lies, the fear she'd wake up one day and find Dom had walked out on her. Scared that in a few months, this thing that might very well be inside her would grow and everyone would notice. Worse, they'd all walk on eggshells around her like she was some fragile princess.

"…I'm two months late," Letty said quietly. Everything was coming back to the forefront of her mind. Her conversation with Mia, the note from Elena, Dom asking her where all this was coming from on the plane.

Shit. "Have you told anyone else?"

"Dom's sister. Ramsey. " She paused, hesitant to go on as if one more word would somehow summon her husband into the room. Right now, it wasn't real yet. That double line didn't exist. Without a finite answer, there was no reason for Letty to pretend she felt anything but indifference. "I was planning on getting a test but now we're leaving tonight, it's like, what am I meant to do, y'know?"

Leaving? Tonight? Were they making a move before the pieces had so much as been assembled? If Hobbs charged head first into this, he'd get everyone killed. While the odds leaned in favour of her brothers surviving, Letty and the rest would find themselves smeared across the highway.

"You could just duck out." Elizabeth hesitated, glancing at the emergency exit she'd entered via. "My car's outside. There's got to be a pharmacy somewhere."

Letty shook her head slightly. Dom would notice if she disappeared for several hours; sooner or later, he'd ask questions and she really didn't want to lie to him, or dump further disappointment on his shoulders. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Yo, Letty!" Roman's voice carried from the base of the stairs. "You need to come teach your husband some manners. He's talking shit about my car."

"God. I—I gotta deal with this." She sighed and stood, pushing her chair back into place. It was better not knowing the truth, right? If something went wrong, Letty didn't want to have an attachment to this…whatever. "See you around, Shaw."

"See you." Elizabeth fetched a water bottle from the freezer as Letty disappear down the hallway. It seemed they really were leaving just like that. No word of warning, no goodbye. Had that been what this morning's meeting was about? Them deciding that going on a suicide mission was a good idea?

She left the kitchen, elbowed the emergency door open and stepped outside. Let it slam shut behind her while she slipped on a pair of sunglasses. Unless they'd reset the security settings, Beth thought, the open port in their system would still act as her back door, and from there…

Elizabeth climbed into the idling Marussia, tossed the bottle and her shades on the passenger seat, and peeled away from the kerb. Two klicks west, there was nothing but empty buildings in every direction. No visible external security cameras nor any signs of patrols. Twigs lay undisturbed on the road and footpaths while cobwebs gathered dust in the corners of disused automatic doors.

After adjusting the GPS on her dash, it lit up when the satellite connection was secured, and again once the secondary network was found. She did her best to type the message one letter at a time, scowling at the screen whenever it misinterpreted her touch.

Talk? Mic on.

Perhaps it would take Cipher minutes to respond, or hours. Maybe not at all. That bastard's message had been clear — back off — but lackeys didn't speak for their employers.

Instead, it took seconds.

"I've encrypted the connection. What do you want?"

"No pleasantries, huh?"

"It's—"

Cipher didn't do 'hello' and 'goodbye'. It was part of the reason she'd actually enjoyed the work — professionalism was expected, sans the caring family vibes and heart to hearts. "Good. I'm not here to kiss your arse."

"Succinct as always, Elizabeth."

"They're planning to—"

"Attack the convoy?" Cipher interrupted. "I know. I listened to the discussion myself. Ramsey's impressive as ever."

Shit. The open port functioned as a doorway: one that led right to Nobody's own system. If the team stayed on base, that error in judgement would have to be corrected, along with certain others.

"It already left Nevada. However," Cipher continued, "in the off chance they do find it, I've made certain there won't be a repeat of last time."

"…What happened last time?"

"They tipped a multi-million dollar vehicle over a cliff."

Beth clapped her hand over her mouth, suppressing as much of her laughter as possible. "Over a—I'm sorry, why exactly was there a cliff involved?"

"I made the mistake of hiring help."

"You've made that mistake a lot these past few years."

"Elle."

"Yes?"

"Don't push your luck."

Through the windows, Beth watched, eyes constantly shifting over her surroundings in case of movement, though the shadows changed only with the sun and breeze. Elizabeth muttered, "Well I can't push anything else, right now, can I?"

"I heard that."

"S—" The unnecessary apology died on her lips as a shadow extended from between the buildings. Roughly humanoid in shape, it stretched across the pavement like a warning. "I think someone's here."

"Relax. I thought it was about time you two met properly."

Met? Oh for the love of God. This wasn't the arsehole from last night, was it? If so, she was going to kill Cipher. Elizabeth had been glancing over her shoulder all morning, wondering if he was going to pop his head up again, and now he was here, lurking in the shadows.

"Are you certain it's him?" Beth asked. As far as she knew, no one else had followed her but there'd always been the opportunity for Owen or Deckard to tail her. Or Hobbs, though the shadow seemed somewhat smaller than one cast by the Fed should be. "The last thing I need is more problems."

That cold voice came from the speaker of her GPS, as if the bastard were right there in the car with her. "But surely you could solve them all on your own."

"Step out from between the buildings," Beth asked, "will you?"

"I'd rather not. It's a little warm today if you haven't noticed."

More like scorching, but she wasn't about to complain. "Either it's you or I've been tailed. For the sake of not ending this conversation prematurely, wave your right hand."

The figure stepped out from the shadows; a tall white man, dark-haired, with the musculature of someone who worked out. He raised his arm and waved.

"Now you do the same."

She wound her window down, stretched her arm out and flipped him the bird.

A laugh. "It's lovely to see you too, Miss Shaw."

"Can we proceed now?" Cipher's voice was filled with irritation. "I wouldn't be speaking with the both of you if I weren't certain the location was secure."

"So you say Toretto is making a move tonight?" he asked.

Cipher huffed. "Yes."

"Then I'll make mine."

"No, you won't," Beth snapped. Blowing up a building full of cars, full of explosives, would be akin to lighting a signal fire and drawing the attention of the entire U.S military. "Hobbs extended an olive branch but it doesn't mean he trusts me. If you do something, it'll be my arse that's caught."

"I didn't say what I'd be doing would affect you." His voice seemed to deepen, as if something had crossed his mind. It was the same tone Owen took when he was ready to swap a piece out. "My only interest is Toretto."

"Everyone's interest is Dominic fucking Toretto. Tell me something I don't know."

"He's my brother."

Well that was interesting. Elizabeth smirked, crossing her arms and sinking into the plush leather seat. She couldn't imagine Owen and Deckard turning against each other, not like that, yet Tall, Dark and Mysterious claimed to have done so. "I assume you verified this, Cipher?"

"I've seen the photos. Yes."

Nothing in the files indicated there was another sibling, although the same could be said of her brothers' as well. "How dead would you like him?"

"Cut Hobbs' heart out if you want, make Dom watch his wife suffer, but he's mine. Is that understood?"

"I suppose you'll have to get to him first then." Elizabeth reached for the power button on the GPS and flicked it up, turning the device off. This guy was serious, wasn't he? Well so was she. Just because he had an old grudge didn't mean Elizabeth would let him cut in line. "Oh that's not good," she murmured, turning the Marussia around and leaving Toretto's brother in her rearview. "…You've really gone off the deep end, Cipher, haven't you?"

Now only one question remained: if the truck wasn't in Nevada, where was it? Better yet, what had it been replaced with? How big of a trap were her brothers about to walk into, and how deep a hole would she have to dig herself before Hobbs listened?

"Bozhe," she murmured, unconsciously pressing the accelerator down. The needle rose higher as she drove, eyes fixed on the road, her mind elsewhere. "Running is only going to prolong this. Take the money and she's crippled, but the money's only exposed if you have the—"

Elizabeth didn't see the Gurkha at first. It was little more than a blur in her peripheral vision. When the world tilted, however, it filled her line of sight. One moment everything had been fine, she thought, the next it wasn't. Why? And why did the road suddenly appear so close?

Glass cracked yet held in place, the armour plating taking the brunt of the impact while the Marussia rolled like a pin. Side over side, the exterior panels tearing open; chunks of asphalt flung into the air, side mirrors strewn across the road like breadcrumbs.

Her head smack against the side window once the car landed on one side and everything finally stopped spinning. Beth groaned, body throbbing with pain, hanging upside down in her seat. The GPS on her dash was shattered, the water bottle cracked and spilled across the seat and footwell along with her shades.

"Nngh." This wasn't good, was it? She reached up, fumbling for the belt button. They needed to know. Needed to…Elizabeth released the clasp. Felt herself fall and her legs come tumbling after. Her back hit the floor — roof? — while her eyes adjusted to the change in orientation. "Ow." Beth winced. The seatbelt had done its job, but if she had to guess, her body would be purple come sunset. She reached out with one hand and patted the steering wheel, mumbling, "I'm sorry, dushka."

"Shaw!"

Someone calling her name? Maybe. Might be that knock to the head had done some serious damage. With one arm, she rolled herself over onto her stomach. Pain spread like lightning; molten lava surged through her abdomen and set every nerve ending alight.

Her eyes were open now. Mind alert, heart pounding as adrenaline flooded her veins. Everything was sharper, clearer. The sun reflecting off the road made her squint but it gave her a target to crawl towards. There was just one problem: the door. She'd need to push it open, provided it weren't stuck.

"Goddamn it, woman, answer me!"

Wait. What was he doing here? No. No, she'd been alone. She'd driven out here so no one would find her, yet that voice… "Hobbs?"

"Jesus Christ. What the hell were you thinking?" Hands on metal. Metal scraping on road. The door screeching in her ears like a howling chihuahua. "You could've killed yourself!"

"Hobbs! She knows."

"Who?"

"I screwed up. I let her in the system."

"What're you talking about?"

His boots on the ground. Black, thick-soled steel-capped shit kickers. The man had good taste in footwear, she'd give him that much. Elizabeth pushed herself up once more, flopped onto her back. Anything to take the pressure off her stomach.

"Cipher. When Owen opened the port, I didn't think…"

"Cipher did this to you?"

"No!" His arm reached into the car. Elizabeth grabbed ahold of his wrist and held tight, let him slide her out one inch at a time. "Cipher knows. She's been listening. The truck isn't in Nevada, and…"

"And what?"

"We've got another problem." Still, Hobbs dragged her, pulling her straight towards the Gurkha. "Cipher's working with someone."

"Who?"

She flinched as her head came to momentarily rest on the hot road. The rear door of the Gurkha swung open, and then Hobbs was lifting her like a rag doll, setting her down on a side seat. Flat on her back, Elizabeth stayed as still as possible; there was no chance in Hell she'd let him take her to the warehouse, but the motel room was ideal. A week, maybe two, and she'd be as good as new.

"I'll tell you if you take me back to my room. One medic only. And you don't tell anyone."

"You just crashed your car going seventy miles a goddamn hour, and now you're blackmailing me to save face?"

"Deckard and Owen work better if they're focused. They're gonna need to be."

"Why? Who's Cipher working with?"

"Motel. Medic. Yes or no?"

"Yes. Now answer the question."

"He's Toretto's brother."

"Dom doesn't have a—" If there was one thing Luke could recall, it was that file. Parents divorced, father deceased, one sibling. If Elizabeth spoke the truth, could there be a black sheep? A Toretto they didn't speak of. One who apparently had a hatred so great that he willingly worked with a psychopath. "You're sure about this?"

"He told me I could cut your heart out if I wanted. Make Toretto watch Letty suffer…but Dom was his. I told him to get in line."

"Anyone can spout bullshit." Surely she knew that better than anyone. "I've read his file repeatedly."

"Cipher says she vetted him. That's as close to a guarantee as you'll get without asking Dom."

And why exactly had she been talking to Cipher? Actually, no, he already knew the answer to that question. Shaw had been speaking to Cipher because he'd allowed it. Because he'd turned a blind eye to her antics in the hopes she might succeed and empty Cipher's accounts. Instead, she was laying in his car, about to be bedridden for as long as it took her to heal.

"You know this means she's waiting for us," Luke said. He'd told Shaw he'd take her to the motel, and he would. No matter how stupid, how risky it was, the team needed to keep their attention on the task at hand. The last thing Luke wanted was them getting any ideas about personal safety after learning of Cipher's so-called message. "I'm sending those people into a shitstorm. Unprep—"

Of course, Luke realised. The enemy was listening, but she couldn't watch. That was the reason why they'd refused to install security cameras within the warehouse. Their tactics, their entire approach could be changed, so long as Cipher heard they were sticking to the original plan.

"Shaw?" Luke afforded himself a glance over his shoulder. Her eyes were still open, one hand resting on her stomach. If she'd been going a few miles slower, he would've t-boned her car directly instead of clipping it. Her Marussia fighting his Gurkha. A nightmarish collision between two vehicles designed to take multiple hits and keep on rolling. "Anna, talk to me."

Was he really doing this right now? "I told you not to call me that."

"Then keep yourself conscious, Green Gables."

"Believe me, I'm trying."