"This is why. One of my other cases," Johnson said. "Blanca Ortiz. Leticia's mother."

-*-

"Mother? Her mother is—"

"Was."

"Was in the program? What happened?"

Johnson sighed and gestured for Manson to sit down. "Letty was three years old. Her mother was out shopping and witnessed a murder. Drug-deal gone bad. She testified against the guy but there was an assault on her house by one of the defendant's relatives. Her husband was killed and Letty was put in a coma."

He paused and sighed. "Blanca was devastated. She wanted to die, but we couldn't let that happen. We set her up in a very similar situation as Letty. A new identity in Tokyo, Japan. However, Blanca had no one to go to when she got there. Not like Letty. She was now Belita Sanchez, a Hispanic woman in a strange land and she was scared."

Manson frowned. "That's terrible."

"Letty awoke a few months later but she had no memory of her mother and very little of her father. When I asked why she remembered her father but not her mother, the doctors told me she connected the trauma to her mother so when she blocked out the trauma, she also blocked out her mother from her mind." He sighed. "I talked to her a few days later. She said she remembered what her mother looked like, vaguely, but nothing else. All she could do was talk about the few memories of her father she still had."

He stood up and pushed a hand through his hair, his back to Manson before he turned to her.

"After that, she moved in with her grandmother, who lived right down the street from Toretto."

"And that's how that got started," Manson concluded.

"Yeah." Johnson sighed. "There's more to Blanca's story though. I checked up on her a few years later. She had a two year old daughter with a Japanese man named…"

He looked at the file, "Kenichi Yamada. They named the kid Retsu. Cute kid. Tanned skin, slanted eyes, really exotic looking. Well, I stopped checking on her after that. She was happy and safe with a family. Then things went sour."

Manson leaned in as Johnson's voice dropped low. "I guess in high school, Retsu met the son of a Yakuza boss. They were head over heels for one another but it ended up getting Retsu killed. I thought, maybe, someone over here was exacting revenge on Blanca, that they'd recognized her and killed her daughter. I couldn't be sure but I relocated her anyway. But during the relocation, she dropped off the radar. I don't know, now, if she's dead or homeless or worse. But I wanted to help her daughter, make up for my mistake with her."

Johnson shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Ackland," Manson murmured, placing her hand on his shoulder, sympathetically. "But there's nothing we can do about—"

"Agent Johnson! There's someone from the FBI on the phone for you!" called an underling, peeking out from his cubicle and waving the phone.

Johnson blinked and picked the phone up. "This is Johnson."

-*-

"Hey, pops," called a nine-year-old Dominic Toretto from the driveway, where he was sitting on the grass, fidgeting with one of the motors out of one of his sister's baby toys. He knew the one-year-old wouldn't miss it. She was a baby, after all.-*-

Mr. Toretto looked up from his own work, where he'd been tinkering at the engine of his Dodge Charger. He wiped his brow. "Yeah, Dom?"

"Who's that?"

He nodded his head to the little three-year-old who was being escorted into a house down the street by a few men in suits.

He knew that house. It was Old-Lady Lopez's house. She was the one who sent homemade empanadas to each house on the block every holiday.

Mr. Toretto crossed his arms over his chest, a curious expression fluttering onto his grease-stained features. "Not sure, son. But by all those bags that man has, it looks like she's moving in with Mrs. Lopez. You'll be nice to her, hm? It can be scary to move from one home to another."

Dom put down the motor from Mia's toy and stood up, making his way over.

Mr. Toretto smiled and shook his head.

When Dom arrived, the men were pulling away and Mrs. Lopez was saying something to the girl in Spanish. When she finally spotted him, he waved and she hid behind her grandmother.

"Hm? Oh, mi hija, don't be afraid. That's Mr. Toretto's son from down the street. What's your name again, chico?"

" 'm Dominic. Dom." He smiled at the frightened girl. He noticed she was clutching a Hot Wheels in her hand at that point and grinned. "Nice car. I've got a lot of Hot Wheels. If you come over, I can show them to you. And we can watch my dad work on his car. He's got one just like the one in your hand, only it's real. Wanna come?"

She looked at her grandmother.

"He'll take good care of you, mi hija. He's got a little sister younger than you. He's a good boy," replied the old woman, smiling down at her granddaughter.

She was quiet for a long moment, contemplating whether she should trust the strange boy, before she nodded and shuffled her small body toward him.

He took her smaller hand, carefully and smiled again. "Don't worry. You can trust me. I'll protect you, okay?"

She nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Let--Let--Letty--Letic--"

"Letty is fine. You can tell me your full name when it's easier for you, okay? Besides, Letty sounds pretty. It's like my name. Dom sounds way better than Dominic. To me anyway. Makes me sound bigger, don't you think? Ha! Maybe it's just me."

Letty smiled then. She liked him from that moment on.

-*-

Letty blinked as she recalled the memory. What had caused her it to resurface? To be honest, it was one of the few memories of early childhood she still had. She could barely remember her parents, though she knew something bad had happened to them and to her.

But that memory of Dom…

Despite how young she'd been—a mere three years—it stood out to her as if it were fresh.

She placed her wrench down and wiped her forehead, looking at Mr. Yamada, the owner, with a frown. Had it been his story? Had his recollection of his own memories spurned some trip down memory lane for her as well?

She shook her head and continued doing her work, ignoring the tickle of memories in the back of her mind.

-*-

Rodrigo's plane landed in the Tokyo airport and he stepped off. There was a limo waiting for him when he arrived.

A Japanese man dressed as a chauffeur bowed. "Ortega-san, Katsumoto-san sent me to pick you up. He said he wanted to speak to you as soon as you arrived."

"How did he know I'd be here today?"

"He didn't." The chauffeur just smiled.

Ortega smirked. "Interesante."

The chauffeur opened the door and Ortega slid in. He pulled the slip of paper out of his coat pocket. "So what can you tell me about Senor Katsumoto?"

"He's a fair boss. Pays well. Doesn't tolerate failure or idiocy." He started the car and pulled out of the airport and started down the street toward Katsumoto's home.

Ortega listened, feigning pleasantness as he did so. He really disliked stories but wouldn't kill the chauffeur yet. He had other things planned, first.

They arrived at Katsumoto's estate and Teiichi was out front, shining the paint of his Charger with a rag. He furrowed his brow when the Latino man stepped out of his father's limo and stood up straight.

The chauffeur said something to Teiichi, in Japanese, causing the young man's furrowed brow to crease more and then he nodded, murmured something back, bowed politely to Ortega and went inside.

A servant came out and ushered Ortega inside and into Katsumoto's office, where the man sat, sorting through papers, his son standing behind his chair, looking astute.

Ah, so that's what he'd told him to do. Come and make his father look better. Ortega had to smirk at the cliché set up of this entire meeting. However, when Katsumoto offered him a seat, he took it, crossing his legs.

"May I smoke, senor?" Ortega asked, pulling out a cigarette.

"Please do." Katsumoto stood. "I am Ichirou Katsumoto. This is that son of mine I was telling you about. His name is Teiichi. Teiichi, tell Ortega-san what you told me."

Teiichi picked up the fax and showed it to him. "This is Leticia Ortiz?"

"It is."

He shook his head. "Her name is Anabella Gonzalez."

Ortega smirked and stood. "I'm sure you're a bright chico, si? You know that there are ways to change who you are to avoid certain…troubles. Surely, you're smart enough to realize that."

Teiichi's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he scowled.

"Teiichi, itte."

"Otousama."

"Ima!"

Teiichi looked at Ortega but nodded. "Hai, Otousama."

Katsumoto stood up and grinned. "So, you see, I wasn't lying to you on the phone. And my son even knows where she works and where she hangs out. He'd be able to take you to her in a heartbeat. That is, as soon I get my 25%."

Ortega got to his feet as well and clasped his hands behind his back, his cigarette dangling from his lips. "This is a nice office, senor."

"Thank you, now, can we get back to our dea—"

"Lots of nice trinkets. Certificates. Pictures of family. The Japanese, they really, really put a lot of weight on family, don't they?" His Hispanic accent was thick and dripping with ulterior motive.

"Well, yes, I suppose. Ortega-san, what does any of this have to do with—"

"Leticia Ortiz put a lot of weight on family too, did you know that? But she had a rather unconventional family. Until she was about sixteen, she lived with her grandmother. But then her poor abuela died of old age, and she started to live with her real familia. Do you know who her real familia is—or was—senor Katsumoto?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Has that chico of yours ever heard of Dominic Toretto?"

"It…rings a few bells. Yes, some…legendary American street racer, if I recall. But I don't think he's ever seen him in action. He's not sure what he looks like."

"Yes. Legendary. But not just for street racing. He's one tough cabron. Hijacked big rigs in Los Angeles. Hijacked fuel trucks in La Republica Dominicana. And guess what?"

"What is that?"

"Leticia Ortiz was with him for all of it. They were an item, you see. Inseparable. Senor Braga tells me that the whole operation to bring him down was all because of Toretto's insatiable urge to avenge Ortiz. Do you know where Toretto was last spotted, senor?"

"No."

"The Bahamas. Do you know where he is now?"

"I don't."

Ortega smirked, bitterly. "Neither does anyone. He's disappeared."

-*-

"What?!" Johnson barked, his eyes widened.

"You heard me. Dominic Toretto has dropped off the radar. We were following him closely in the Bahamas but he must've found a way to skip out without us noticing. He's gone."

"Are you sure?"

"We're sure. We had men scaling up and down those islands. He's nowhere. He's vanished."

Johnson sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "All right. Thanks." He hung up. "Toretto's in Tokyo."

"What?" Manson's eyes widened. "But didn't they just say he was gone."

"Gone for Toretto means an agenda. I get the feeling he knows Ortiz is alive and he's there." Johnson sighed. "I don't know whether to view this as a gift or a curse."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," murmured Johnson. "Toretto will make sure, above all else, that Ortiz doesn't get hurt. He loves her almost as much as he loves racing. Or…vice versa. Anyway, he'll protect her. But if we are able to get to her before Ortega does, and Toretto's in the picture, he might keep us from trying to relocate her if we're able to bring Ortega down."

Johnson pounded a fist into his desk. "Damn! This is so screwed up. Look, our priority is trying to help Ortiz. Get a team assembled, Carolyn. We're catching the next red-eye to Tokyo."

-*-

Dom had called almost every garage within a 100 mile radius of Sean's house and nothing. He had one number left. If this wasn't it, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

He dialed.

"Moshi, moshi! Yamada no shako desu!" called an older sounding man on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, uh…do you have an Anabella Gonzalez working for you?"

"Anaberra? Yeah, I do. She working now. You wanna talk, her?"

Dom snorted at the man's terrible English but murmured a quick 'yes.' There was a shuffling and then, "Sean, I'm not coming back. Look, you know why I'm living with you and you know Anabella's not my real name but I can't tell you anymore than that. If that guy came by, tell him I'm not coming back, so—"

"This isn't Sean."

Dom yanked the phone away from his ear when he heard the clattering of the phone being dropped and then placed it back against it in time to hear shuffling.

"I don't know you! Stop bothering me!"

"Stop lying to me, Letty. I know it's you and I know you're doing this because you're in trouble. Let me help you. Ride or die, remember?"

"Shh! Don't say that name over a phone line, tu idioto! You're going to get me killed. Is that what you want? And don't fuckin' start with me about ride or die, Dom. Don't you dare. You left me hanging in the Dominican Republic, wondering why the hell I even bothered with you and then realizing I couldn't live without you anyway. I stuck my neck out for you and now look where I am! Working at a garage in Tokyo fucking Japan, under a name that I hate!"

Dom choked out a laugh at the last part. "Yeah, you always hated that name."

"Dom!"

"Letty, I want to help you."

"No. Leave it alone, Dom. This is over. We're over. I'm not Letty anymore. Now stop saying that name and stay out of my life!"

"You don't mean that. You're just afraid. Let me protect you!" he growled, getting irritated.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone and then a murmured, "Stop making that promise. To protect me. You never keep it."

The line went dead.

"Fine," he mumbled, as he hung up the phone. "You won't compromise. Then I'll come and get you by force."

He grabbed his keys, used Mia's Internet accessible cell phone to get directions to the garage and left his room to go reclaim his girl.

-*-

"Let me protect you!"

Letty's eyes widened when she heard the words and the memory from earlier that day resurfaced.

I'll protect you, okay?

She was silent. Once upon a time, she'd believed him.

Her expression became hard. "Stop making that promise. To protect me. You never keep it."

Then she hung up the phone.

She looked at Mr. Yamada, blinking when he dropped the extra phone and blushed, sheepishly. He'd been listening in? Ugh, dirty old man.

"Look, I have to go. It's urgent."

"You real name is Letty? Dat short of Leticia?"

Letty shushed him but blinked, answering in a whisper, "Yes…why?"

"My wife. She want to name Retsu that at first. I say no, no foreign name. She sad. Later on, when Retsu older, I ask her why she want to name her dat. She tell me, she had daughter name Letty long time ago. She tell me, her daughter got hurt 'cause of her. She tell me she had to leave her hurt daughter 'cause it not safe for her if she around." Mr. Yamada shook his head. "You look like my wife. And you name is Letty."

Letty's eyes widened.

That's right. She couldn't see the memory but she could hear…

Gunfire. Her dad was screaming at them to duck.

Killed. Murdered.

She was grazed in the head. Coma.

…and when she awoke, she had no parents and no memory of them. She went to live with her abuela and met Dominic. She remembered visiting her father's grave before. But never her mother's.

Did that mean…?

Letty looked at the man, pushing her fingers through her long, dark hair and looking frantic.

Mr. Yamada frowned at her. "Go. Go, go. She would want me to help you. Go, go, go, 'fore I change mind. Go."

Letty blinked but smiled a little warily. "Thanks, Mr. Yamada."

She grabbed her stuff and Sean's keys and took off.

-*-

"Do you know why it's a bad thing that Toretto is missing, senor?" Ortega asked after a long moment of silence between them.

Katsumoto was silent, watching as Ortega circled his office—and him—like a hyena circling its prey, teasing it.

"No? Then I'll tell you. Toretto knew a man who lived here. Perhaps you know him as well. His name was Han. He worked for some of your constituents before his untimely demise. My sources tell me that Toretto left the Bahamas to come here and pay his respects to the deceased."

Ortega looked at Katsumoto. "And they tell me he never left."

"Ortega-san, I still don't understand what this has to do with our deal."

Ortega laughed. "Deal? What deal?"

"25% for finding Ortiz for you! For handing her to you on a silver platter!"

"Ah, yes. That deal. That deal is off," Ortega said.

"What, why? I gave her to you! My son knows exactly where she is, he can lead you right to her!" Katsumoto pounded his fist into his desk. "This is an outrage!"

Ortega turned finally, pointing an automatic pistol with a silencer at the man. "Because, although you did bring me here and have offered her up to me like a lamb to the slaughter, you've also put me in quite a situation. Dominic Toretto never left Tokyo and Han's funeral was some time ago. Which tells me, he's staying for a reason."

Katsumoto started to sweat.

"He knows she's here. Can't you follow any logic? I thought you Asians were suppose to be smart." Ortega cocked the gun. "He knows she's here and he'll protect her, tooth and nail. That makes my job harder. I dislike it when my job is harder."

"Ortega-san, I didn't know, I didn't—"

Fwip.

A bullet zinged, quietly, out of the gun and right into Katsumoto's skull.

Ortega smirked. "I really don't give a damn, cabron. Sleep tight."

He turned and that was when he saw him. Teiichi watching the scene, from the door which was propped open only slightly. Ortega took one step toward him.

And Teiichi ran.

-*-
Interesante = Interesting
Itte = Go (as an order)
Ima! = Now!
Moshi, moshi! = Hello (for phone only)
Yamada no shako desu! = Yamada's garage!

AN: I own nothing.

Beta'd by MoonchildDJ