"Man, I can't," Letty groaned, resting her head against the cubicle's side wall. She bounced her foot repeatedly and tapped her leg with the cardboard box. Anything to keep her mind off what was inside said box. "How about you pee on it for me, Ramsey?"

"I would if I could." The addendum of 'but I'm not the one who's possibly pregnant' went unspoken. "They still won't patch me through, although getting an answer out of Hobbs is like..."

"Getting Roman to shut up?"

Ramsey chuckled and nodded. Arms braced on the metal sink behind her, she sighed and looked up from the floor. "This is not how I imagined things would happen, you know."

Tell me about it, Letty thought. She'd hoped to be home already. Laughing and chasing Marcus around. Eating waffles and sitting back as Elena made coffee. Swapping stories with Mia. Instead, their family had been forced apart.

Wearily, she stood up off the toilet, unlocked the door and shoved the test in her pocket. Delaying it until later wouldn't harm anyone, but neither would the sinking feeling in Letty's stomach go away just because she had an answer.

"Alright," said Letty. "Let's do this thing. You ready, Ramsey?"

"No."

If there was one thing about Ramsey that Letty liked more than anything else, it was her honesty. Ramsey called it how she saw it and didn't pull a single punch. Right now, that knowledge was the only thing keeping her going. And the feeling of there being someone she could talk to about the shit Letty normally only broached with Mia and Elena.

"Letty, I don't mean to rush you," Hobbs shouted, "but we need to go. They're at the forty mile marker."

They'd left their cars parked onboard the plane for this exact reason. Why unload them when a moment's notice was all they had? Luke adjusted the straps of his flak vest, checked his revolver was loaded once again, and walked towards the open hangar doors.

"Nervous?" Deckard asked, falling into line with Luke. Walking parallel to the Fed, he adjusted the collar of his kevlar jacket. Strapped to his right thigh was the pistol he'd brought; to his left, a combat knife. "Or are you worried someone's going to get hurt?"

"Someone already has been."

"Who?"

Luke glanced over his shoulder. No sign of Owen, Letty or Dom. Good. The last thing he needed was one of them learning that something was going on. "Your sister went rogue," he said. "Killed two people last night. Put three more in the ICU."

"Hattie?" If she'd killed someone, then there was a pretty good reason for it.

"The other one."

Deckard paused mid-step, pivoting on his feet to look directly at Hobbs. "Elle doesn't kill people."

"Her criminal record says otherwise."

"If you're done gossiping," Owen said as he passed the pair, "we've got a terrorist to catch."

"He's right." Letty couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth, but Owen spoke the truth. Carrying Ramsey's laptop, she rushed towards the transport plane that awaited them. "You coming or what?"

The team loaded themselves and their gear inside of ten minutes. As the pilots ran through the checklist, Deckard found himself standing at the base of the ramp, staring into space. Hands tucked into his pockets, he listened to the plane's engines hum, and a set of footsteps thudding behind him.

"Hobbs says the truck's empty."

"You really believe that?" Deckard said. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting Dom's gaze for a moment before returning his attention to the afternoon sky. "Yeah, me neither."

"Look, I don't know what you did as a soldier," Dom said, "but if this goes bad, don't let Cipher walk away."

"She won't. We've still got unfinished business."

"So do we." Brian descended the ramp, coming to stand beside Dom. "Helping us doesn't erase the past."

"I made my choice, O'Conner. You made yours. We each have to live with the consequences."

The ramp lifted beneath them with a clunk. It was time to go, it seemed. Deckard turned around and returned to his car without another word, giving Owen the smallest of nods as they passed each other. His brother returned it with a calculating smile.

"Alright, listen up!" Luke said once the team was assembled in front of him. "Our window of opportunity is closing rapidly, so let's do this."

"They're well armed," added Little Nobody, "and we don't know what's beyond the mountains. This could be one big ambush."

"That's what we're relying on." Brian looked around at Dom, Little Nobody, Roman and Tej. Ramsey stood next to Tej's car, focused on her open laptop. Letty, on the other hand, had inched her way towards the smug English asshole with his ramp car. "I'm thinking if we can crowd around the truck, block them from accessing it, they won't be able to stop us."

"Except for whoever's onboard," said Roman. "You don't leave something like that unprotected, right? She's gotta have a couple dudes in there waiting for us."

"Or maybe it's empty," Luke said. "Whether it's loaded, a decoy, whatever, we've got sixty miles of road on which to find out."

"Letty, you good?" Dom called out. He'd been unable to make out what she was saying to Owen, but outright interrogating his own wife would be a step in the wrong direction. God knew it had nothing to do with his trust in Letty, yet that was probably how she'd take it.

"I'm fine." She waved from where she leaned against the ramp car's roll cage, staring at Owen. There was something about his demeanor that made her want to strangle him or worse. He acted so casual, like nothing had changed in the past few years. "So you understand what I'm saying?"

"No, I don't," said Owen, looking up at her. "There's no 'us versus them' anymore. We'll do whatever's necessary to survive. I expect you'll do the same. We're a team, aren't we?"

Coming from him, those words meant nothing. There would always be an 'us' and a 'them' for Owen Shaw. After all, he wasn't exactly the kind of guy who let bygones be bygones. "Just stay on my ass and wait for a signal."

Jakob groaned as he walked, stretching his arms and working the kinks from his shoulders. Despite the overall comfort of his bed, the size left something to be desired. He'd rolled off it twice last night, hitting the ground with a thump. Once, Jakob had even woken to loud arguments coming from the corridor.

In stark contrast to the sleeping quarters, the cargo bay was silent, save for the faint scratching of pencil on paper. All of Jakob's tools were exactly where he'd left them. Nothing had been disturbed, touched or otherwise moved, bar whatever had been taking up space on the workbench.

He approached the hunched figure of Elizabeth — head in her hand and dark hair tied up in a bun, earmuffs on to block out the loud rumble of the engines — and planted his hands on the bench either side of her own. Jakob loomed over her, casting a shadow across the paper, and waited.

It didn't take long for her to notice he was there.

"What do you want?" Elizabeth slid one earpiece back just enough to hear him. "And don't start whinging about me not being in bed. This is more comfortable."

"I thought the doc prescribed you meds."

"He tried." And failed. "I told him to keep them. He'd need them if he kept pushing the issue, as will you."

Well, that was more or less what'd happened, albeit she'd been polite about it. The pain was manageable, and despite the discomfort it caused her, she didn't feel a need to dull it further. Or put herself on a one way path to an opioid addiction.

"Has anyone told you how lovely your disposition is?"

Carefully, she tilted her head back to look up at Jakob, meeting his gaze. It wasn't hard to read between the lines with a guy like him. At least that was how things usually unfolded. People like Jakob Toretto — or her siblings — didn't dish out compliments without provocation. "You have five seconds to tell me what you want."

"Yes, ma'am. Theoretically speaking, what's the smallest bomb you could build?" Jakob forced a smile as if to assuage her suspicion. The scepticism in Elizabeth's eyes said she wasn't buying it. "Again, we're talking wholly theoretical."

"Small enough."

Something close to the size of a grenade was difficult to build without the right equipment, but not totally impossible. Truthfully, it all depended on whether the explosive material itself was a solid or liquid. Each bomb had to be designed from scratch, the pieces given their own space - one couldn't just cram things in and hope for the best. Not that this place was sterile or stable enough for manufacturing such things anyway.

"But before you ask me to do something, I would think extremely carefully about who you want to use it against," Elizabeth said. Her accent shifted as she spoke, effecting a soft Russian lilt. "Because if you do what Dom did and put my brothers in the hospital, I will put you in the ground. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." The harsh look Shaw gave him was at odds with the fluffy lavender bathrobe she wore, but it didn't lessen the seriousness of the voiced threat. "You want something to eat? Galley's open."

"Just had breakfast," Elizabeth gestured to an empty foil container shoved behind a sheaf of paper, "but thanks."

"Alright," Jakob said, and moved as if to step away. "Buzz me if you hear anything about Dom."

"...Bzzz."

He planted his feet and cocked his head to the side, hands coming to rest on his hips. "What?"

"Nothing. I was just testing the system."

"Oh? Is that all you were—"

The entire plane suddenly tilted at a downward angle, beginning a rapid decline in altitude. Their cars, Marussia and Mustang parked in tandem, strained against the chains and straps that held them in place. The stool Elizabeth was sitting on slid out from under her, sending her toppling to the floor. She thrust her arm out and hooked it around the workbench's front right leg while Jakob grunted, thrown completely off his feet. Elizabeth reached out and managed to catch his left wrist when Jakob landed flat on his stomach.

Carefully, he leveraged himself closer to the workbench and out of range of his own car. Any moment the rigging on either vehicle could fail, then they'd both become freshly made human hamburgers. "Hold on!"

"This is exactly why I don't like flying." Elizabeth's voice cracked when she spoke. "Everything's fine until an engine fails and suddenly you're falling out of the sky."

"Actually, I think we're in a controlled dive," he groaned. The angle wasn't steep enough to suggest engine failure. Neither had they begun titling from one side to the other or spinning wildly. "But usually you get a little more warning. The pilots don't just throw the yoke forward like that."

"Jakob," Cipher's voice came over the P.A system, reaching every corner of the plane, "you've got one job to do."

That explained the suddenness of it all.

"Does she mean what I think she means?" She glanced down at Jakob, still desperately grasping his wrist. At the very least, if Beth fell again, he'd be the equivalent of a human anchor. "Oh you've got to be kidding me."

"In about forty seconds, we'll level out." Even if his math were off, the difference was negligible. "Then I need you to help me release the car, because the moment that ramp drops, I'm gone."

"God," Elizabeth groaned. Her earmuffs had fallen off and now sat cracked under the bench. She rested her head against her right shoulder, eyes closed and fingers crossed. Two thirds of a minute seemed like a long time when your body was equivalent to a tennis ball being thrown towards the ground. "Why did I agree to this?"

He pressed his feet against a metal shelving unit, bracing himself as he reached up with his free hand. The quicker they both got up, the better. Jakob didn't want to be in the path of anything when what'd been thrown down tried returning to its former position. "Plant your feet and get ready."

"Gonna need a minute."

"We don't have one," said Jakob.

After releasing Beth's wrist, he pulled himself free of her grasp and crawled closer. The plane's angle had lessened as they neared 500 feet, allowing Jakob to get on his knees. He wrapped one arm around Shaw's shoulders, gripped the workbench with his other hand, and lifted them both off of the ground.

"If all you wanted was a hug, Toretto," she muttered, straightening herself out, "there are easier ways to get one."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." Jakob planted one foot in front of the other, making his way to the Mustang. Once Elizabeth caught up, he began releasing the chains while she dealt with the straps. "Assuming you're still here."

She rolled the first one up, securing it under the opposite ratchet winch, and moved onto the next. "Are you insinuating something?"

"No." But the fact was, Shaws and planes didn't go together. He couldn't blame her if she decided to put her feet on the ground given the opportunity. The links rattled as he unwound each chain and drew it out from beneath the car, hefting it aside. "You done?"

"One second." The third strap was caught up in itself or twisted. No matter how many times she worked the winch, it wouldn't come loose. Elizabeth pushed the handle back and forth, tugged on the strap, all to no avail. "Shit. This thing's stuck. Give me a hand?"

"Sure." Jakob came to stand next to her. He gripped the lengthy strap with both hands and braced one boot against the ratchet. Carefully, he pulled, till a folded section of fabric popped out. "Okay. Try it now."

Wary of how taut it was, Elizabeth took her time adjusting the winch till the slack was noticeable. She slid the strap free only to toss it over the car. "Thanks."

He nodded and turned on his radio. "We're good to go."

"Alright. Five seconds to drop," Cipher replied over the P.A system. "Elizabeth, meet me in the comms room."

The ramp began to descend, creaking as it went; hot air gusted in and buffeted them both. Less than one hundred feet below, the ground rushed past in a black blur. With each second, it grew closer, till the plane almost skimmed it.

"Go on," Jakob gestured at the corridor, "I'll see you when I get back."

Beth waved her hand in reply while he popped the door of his Mustang open and slid in. The engine rumbled to life a moment later, and she watched as the car rolled towards then down the ramp.

The moment Jakob was out of sight, Elizabeth rushed for her Marussia and the box in the foot well. She tugged the rear door open, clambering in and over the seats. Her head bumped the roof as she went, till Beth reached what she needed. Stretching over the centre console, she lifted the box up onto the passenger seat and pulled the radio out.

Assuming they hadn't changed frequency, assuming they were even in the vicinity, she'd have a few moments before the ramp closed. Elizabeth turned it on, lowered the volume and depressed the transmit button. "I know you're there," she spoke in Russian. "Answer me, jeva."

"...That you?" Letty answered, adopting the language as well. Her tone was distant, like she were wary of this being real.

"Yes."

"Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter," said Elizabeth. The gears began to turn, and with them, the ramp rose. "You need to leave."

"Answer the question."

"Do what I say and I will."

"...Yo, you guys hearing this?" Roman interrupted. "Did someone hijack the frequency? Who's talking?"

"No, screw you. You don't get to show up only when it's convenient. Anyway, it's too late. We found the—"

Letty's voice became static when the ramp thudded into place, plunging the cargo bay into silence once more. Elizabeth sighed, turned the radio off and tossed it beneath the passenger seat. At the very least, the message had been delivered. Now she could only hope Letty listened to it.

Cautiously, Beth climbed out of the Marussia and made her way to the plane's comms hub. Everything was smaller in contrast to the last one, although the bank of monitors bolted to the side wall did the job. And the four computer geeks on the left paid little attention to Elizabeth, even when she said, "You summoned me?"

"Have a seat," said Cipher. The loose bootcut jeans and faded tank top she wore suited her. The short bowl cut did not. "This won't take long."

"I'd rather stand."

She waved Elizabeth off dismissively. "Whichever. I want you to call it."

"What?"

"This little tete-a-tete. What do you think Jakob's odds of winning are?"

Shit. She'd always found honesty to be the best policy when dealing with Cipher. Beth rubbed her chin and leaned against the wall behind her, staring at a display of red dots on a digital map of the highway. "…Slim to none. Jakob thinks he's safe in his little sports car, but it's shrapnel at best."

That and the fact Toretto really didn't have any idea about who or what he was up against. Reinforcements had been done on Owen's ramp car, from the roll cage to the hydraulics and the chassis itself. So unless Jakob's Mustang weighed as much as her own Marussia, it would be thrown through the air the instant his focus slipped.

"And if I shot a few holes in their engines?"

"Shouldn't you already know the answer to that question?" Elizabeth sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "You went up against the seven of them last time, with a nuclear submarine, and failed. Why should now be any different?"

"Anyway, it's too late." God, when she got ahold of that Anglo-Slavic bitch, Letty was going to rip her several new assholes. "We found the—"

The signal suddenly turned into a painful blast of static. Shit! Letty twisted the volume knob, quieting the noise, then slapped her hand against the wheel in frustration. There had to have been major interference for the audio to cut out like that, and Shaw's lack of interest in a conversation suggested only God knew what.

"Yo, seriously," Roman continued, "what the hell was that?"

"I don't know," said Tej. "Maybe some ham radio interference? We are pretty far from suburbia."

"It was Russian," Deckard interrupted. "I only caught a fragment. One telling the other to leave."

"You think it's a numbers station?" Tej sounded concerned. "I know the Cold War's over but, c'mon, you've seen the news."

"Whatever it was," Dom said, cutting in before anyone could say anything else, "it doesn't matter. We're…"

A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance that quickly transformed into the familiar whine of turbine engines. Letty stared out the window, scanning the sky till she spotted it. A large plane lifted into the air just a few miles northeast. As it did, she noticed a dust cloud and the car that'd likely kicked it up speeding towards them.

"Y'know, that doesn't look like much in the way of reinforcements to me, man," Roman said. "I'm just saying. If Cipher's trying to protect this thing, why only send one extra guy?"

"Never does, Rome. So are we doing this or what?" Letty said, looking out at the arid desert and the mountains that dominated the horizon. "Every second we waste sitting on our asses lets them get closer to Ely."

There was nowhere to hide out here. Nowhere to run. The next populated town was over seventy miles away, and this long stretch of empty road wasn't serviced by a single gas station.

"What do you say we show them the sky?" Owen's tone was both calm and sadistic, just as it'd been in Moscow during their escape. "For old times' sake."

She couldn't argue with that. As much as Letty'd tried to move on, those memories weren't going away any time soon. Besides, this had been the plan all along, hadn't it? Work in sync, get the job done fast. And she wouldn't have to so much as speak for Owen to know what she was thinking. "…Sounds good to me, Shaw."

A/N: Hey guys. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter. I'll be integrating canon from Fast & Furious: Showdown, so you'll see references here and there, like Owen and Letty's "show them the sky". Thanks for reading and stay safe out there.