NOTE: Just want to let you know that for some reason, I've really immersed myself in this story more than I thought I ever would. I've got the outline to how this story's gonna play out and I'd like to hear if you're pleased with it. Review and above all, enjoy! :-)

- Chapter III -

Memories

When Lance woke up, he could instantly smell the dampness and odor of the dimly lit room he was tied up in. The abandoned building was obviously not a friendly place to be in and when a male voice boomed out from the dark, Lance jumped in his seat.

"It's been a while, Lance. Not so much the sidekick anymore, huh? You've taken control. I like that," it sounded off in a gravely tone.

"Who are you?!" Lance asked in panic.

"Oh, just a replacement for the man you were meant to meet. Who was that again?" the man asked.

"What's it to you?" Lance asked teasingly.

TZZZZZZZ!

"AGGGGGHHH!" Lance yelped as the man pressed an iron to his face.

"Now, now. That's no way to treat a host, is it? Don't you like my hospitality?" the man teased back. This time, Lance knew better than to answer.

"Huh. Good. Because I could have swore you had something to say. What was it again?" the man asked.

"It was some rich kid! His uncle set him up here to try and make a name for himself!" Lance admitted.

TZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

"Name!" the man demanded. Lance squealed in pain.

"Takashi! His name was Takashi!" he said through his tears. Suddenly, the man started laughing menacingly.

"What's so funny, you damn psycho?! My face... my face is ruined!" Lance screamed.

"I knew that. Takashi's in my posession, and his daddy ought to pay big bucks to get him back. I just wanted to see what kind of a man you were, before I... proceed," the man revealed.

Lance was now utterly still, as if he had walked into a minefield.

"You... knew?" the hostage asked in a dazed voice.

"There's a lot I know, Lance. I thought if you turned out to be a loyal man, I wouldn't make it so hard for you. But now that I know what a coward you are, I realize there's no room for any breaks," the captor noted, stepping into the light. A tall, muscular man with a goatee and sporting multiple tatoos under his leather trenchcoat. He fidlled with the iron he was carrying.

"You and your late boyfriend, Johnny Tran, killed one of the most innocent kids in the world," Vince recalled, slowly walking around Lance like a lion waiting to pounce.

"Who are you talking about?" Lance asked, obviously bewildered.

"A kid whose only fault was being scared to death of giving up his father's Jetta," Vince pressed on. Lance's eyes widened. The sudden realization of who the captor was talking about distracted the criminal from the fact that his feet were placed in a bucket of water. He started laughing.

"You mean that little shit? The one Tran smoked during Race Wars? Is that what this is about?! Fucking James or whatev-"

And then Lance began twitching rapidly as Vince dropped the iron into the bucket of water and watched his prisoner die a painful death.

"His name was Jesse."

The lights of Tokyo mesmirized the trio as they left the airport. Brian saw all the imports anyone could ever ask for. His Skyline R34 GT-R might be a rarity in the United States, but out here that was hardly the case.

"So what now?" Mia asked nervously. Brian's eyes glistened with excitement.

"We need a place to crash," he noted, casting a look at Toretto who was still taking in the enviroment.

"Got any ideas?" Brian asked. Dom was obviously concerned.

"What's wrong?" Mia pressed on.

"I sent Han a message to pick us up, and he's not the kind who breaks his word," Dom explained.

"You know where he lives?" Brian inquired, becoming a little unsettled himself.

"He has a garage in Shibuya that he used to talk about setting up while he was rolling with me," Dom said with a smirk.

"Said he'd left me a present there, for old time's sake."

When the three of them finally arrived at the location they'd given the taxi driver, all they could see was a building closed off by yellow tape. Dom's suspicions turned out to be true. Something went down here. They paid their fare and got out.

"Stay here, Mia," Dom told his sister, making his way into the garage. She gave Brian a worried look.

"Take care of him," she pleaded, but Brian knew full well what his responsibilities were.

"You don't need to remind me," Brian and followed Dom.

"What a mess..." Brian mumbled at the ruckus that had been left inside the structure.

Cars were banged up, furniture was overthrown - definitely a sign of a forced entry. Dom wordlessly started to explore the remains of what was surely once a great place for gearheads.

Brian stopped in his tracks to look at a wall of photos that included Han and the people he hung around with during his stay in Tokyo. One of them included a group shot signed by the people featured in it - Han, Sean, Neela, and Twinkie. Then, Brian froze as he saw another picture of Han and an apparent friend of his.

"Dom... Dom! It's the guy from the airport," Brian noted and Dom paced over to take a look. His cheekbones twitched in worry as he realized that its frame was broken. Looks like they weren't on very good terms recently.

"Are you sure you don't know who that is?" Brian asked, trying to hold back his curiousity as much as possible. Dom didn't respond, reaching into his pocket and taking out a car key. Brian took one last look at the shelf, spotted a phone, and took it.

Pressing the lower most button, Dom caught sound of a car beeping in the distance. It led them to a wall, and though it was of very weak structure, he knew they would need equipment. Dom and Brian grabbed two shovels nearby and started to plow their way through it. After a while, their labor paid off and the two men entered the secret room. What waited inside was a sight for sore eyes.

"Damn," Brian exclaimed at the sight of the silver Plymouth Road Runner inside. Dom smiled despite himself.

"Oh, Han..." he muttered in appreciation, caressing the car's body as he made his way into the driver's seat.

"I got this phone back there. I don't know who it belongs to but it could be a lead," Brian noted as he gave the device to Dom. Clicking 'redial', Dom noticed that the last person Han had contacted was a guy by the name of Sean Boswell. Pressing the phone to his ear, Dom waited too long for an answer for it to be any good news.

"You called this number on a dead man's phone. Who are you?" Sean answered on the other side. Something fell in the pit of his stomach and his vision became blurry.

"Hello? Hell-"

Dom ended the call without any words. Brian waited a moment or two to soak it in.

"I'm sorry," Brian said in a low, sympathetic tone.

Dom stared ahead, memories of happier times engulfing his senses. He put the phone away and started the car. After a moment, he turned to face Brian. The fire in Dom's eyes sent chills down the ex-cop's spine.

"Not as much as the person who's responsible for this is gonna be," Dom said coldly.