In Kyoto, Japan, a fifty-one year old foreign woman turned on the television in her small home. She had no bedrooms, one window, a kitchen practically straddling her small living space which doubled as a bedroom with a pull out futon and a small bathroom with no tub, requiring her to use the public bathhouse at least twice a week.
She listened to the bubbly newswoman ramble on in Japanese—which she'd come to understand in her time in the country—and made her dinner, quietly. She passively listened to the weather and traffic, and then a report about a murder started.
She didn't pay it much mind. People were murdered all around the world, all the time, in this day and age. She caught a few words like "powerful" and "possibly connected to Yakuza" as she spread some mayonnaise on a piece of bread and that got her to look up at the screen.
Her eyes widened.
"—this young woman might be connected to the Katsumoto's murder," murmured the bubbly newscaster in Japanese as they showed a picture.
Next to the picture was the name Leticia Ortiz.
"A fax with this picture and name were found near Katsumoto's body in his Tokyo home with a note scribbled on the back, reading….'I'm coming for you.' If anyone has any information about this young woman, please contact…"
The sound of the newscast seemed to flutter away as the woman placed her bread and knife down. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute and she pressed her fingers to her forehead. This was her worst nightmare come to life.
"Letty…" she whispered and then stood, grabbing up her bag and her train pass and then rushing out the door.
Blanca Ortiz—alias Belita Sanchez and now known as Consuela Ramirez after she'd run away from Witness Protection—was going to Tokyo.
Her daughter, who she had not seen in twenty-three years, was in trouble and something inside of her knew that Letty wasn't responsible. She had to try and save her.
After all…
Letty was the only family she had left.
-*-
Agent Johnson gulped, stressfully, at a glass of scotch that a flight attendant had brought to him. He and a team of seven agents, including Manson, were on their way to Tokyo, Japan on a red-eye flight. This was his second scotch in half an hour so it was quite obvious he was anxious.
Yes, definitely anxious, noted Manson, as she typed away at a laptop, trying to comprise all of the files on Leticia Ortiz into one concise document. There were plenty of things to look through, that was for sure. Assaults, prior arrests, misdemeanors.
She had sure gotten herself into a lot of trouble.
Manson was almost sure most of it was connected to Dominic Toretto.
Still, she had to wonder why Leticia stayed with the man if all he did was cause her problems. Even most of her recent problems could somehow be traced back to Toretto. Yet, for some reason, Ortiz stayed with him and stayed faithful as far as Manson could tell.
She wondered if he'd stayed faithful too.
Something inside her—maybe woman's intuition—told her he did.
In fact, something told her he still was. Manson actually believed—though she'd never tell Johnson this—that having Toretto involved would be most beneficial in trying to save Leticia. But perhaps it was the hopeless romantic in her conveying that. After all, if a woman is willing to rack up all these criminal charges for a man, she was obviously head over heels for the guy.
And if he was willing to risk being caught again by feds in order to keep her alive, obviously he felt the same.
And Manson really thought that was incalculably romantic and yet bittersweet at the same time. They were doomed to fail, in Manson's eyes. Maybe not their love, but if either one was to end up caught or dead…
But then, to Dominic Toretto, Leticia had been dead, hadn't she?
And yet, he was in Tokyo, willing to believe with all his heart she was still alive, and that she needed his help.
Manson sighed and saved her work, closing her laptop and looking at Johnson as he sucked down a third scotch.
"Slow down, Ackland, we're still on duty, technically," murmured Manson, placing her computer into her bag. She frowned at him, worried for his psyche and his liver at that moment. He was really stressed out.
He really wanted to save this girl.
Johnson placed the empty glass down and looked at her. "Sorry. I'm just…"
"I know, Ackland, I know. I want to help her too."
"Did you learn anything new?"
Manson leaned back in her seat and looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking her head. "Nothing much really. Just that she has a lot of prior criminal offenses, mostly tied to Toretto and his gang. As Anabella Gonzalez? She lived with Han for a while, then lived with Sean Boswell and worked at Yamada's Garage in Tokyo. You know, all of the things we already knew."
Johnson sighed. "Wonderful."
"Hey, boss," called one of the agents, standing up and coming over to him. "I've been scanning news and radio stations from Mexico to Japan, trying to find out any information about this Ortega fellow, wondering if someone maybe saw him cross a border somewhere."
"And?"
"And a news story just ended in Japan about the murder of an alleged Yakuza boss, which could possibly be tied to a young woman named Leticia Ortiz."
Johnson's eyes widened and then he cursed. "Damn! This just keeps getting worse. Wait…who was the Yakuza boss?"
"Um. Katsumoto. Ichirou Katsumoto."
"Dammit!" Johnson barked.
"What is it, Ackland?" murmured Manson.
"The boy that Blanca's daughter Retsu was dating when she was murdered was Teiichi Katsumoto, Ichirou Katsuomoto's son," Johnson replied. "Ortega's making every connection he can to Letty and then he plans to use them all against her. Whether he knows he's doing it or not I don't know, but he's going to break out all the stops to make her uncomfortable, try to draw her out of hiding."
Something dawned on him then and he looked at Manson. "What was the name of that garage?"
"What? Oh, Yamada's."
"Kazuki Yamada?"
"I believe so…"
"Dammit."
Manson's brow furrowed. "What, now?"
"Kazuki Yamada was Belita Sanchez's husband. Retsu's father. Letty's stepfather, technically." He frowned. "Letty looks just like her mother…I wonder…"
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts before: "I have a feeling the garage will be Ortega's next target. We need to get to that garage as soon as we land."
Manson pulled out her computer again and turned it on, connecting to the airplane's wifi uplink. "I'll have a taxi waiting for us as soon as we get there."
"Good." He looked at his team and told them the situation before sitting back against his seat and ordering another scotch.
This was going to be a long trip.
-*-
Dominic Toretto's Plymouth Roadrunner pulled up to Yamada's garage and stopped his engine. Mr. Yamada had called one of his temporary mechanics to come and take Letty's shift and this man came out and began to speak in Japanese to Dom about his car.
Dom waved a hand at him and glanced around the inside of the garage. No Letty.
When Mr. Yamada noticed that Dom seemed overly curious, he stepped out himself and looked at him. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Anabella Gonzalez," replied Dom, his eyes still scanning the garage. Something caught his attention and he stepped around the older man, making his way into the shop.
"No! You no allowed going in dere! Hey! You come back!" yelled Mr. Yamada and then his eyes widened when Dom saw a sleeve from one of Letty's shirts hanging from one of the lockers and all but ripped the door off of it.
He picked up the shirt. It was hers. He could tell by the style…and the scent.
As he picked it up into his hands, something fluttered out from underneath it. Dom blinked. A picture?
He bent to pick it up and his eyes grew soft, memories and an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia welling up in him. He looked at the young woman in the picture, smiling and hugging the photographic version of himself.
He dug through the locker, carefully. In the end, he was able to retrieve a full outfit, the photograph and a stick of deodorant. She obviously hadn't changed. She use to keep deodorant in their old shop too.
He tossed the plastic container up in the air a little, smiling, distantly. "She didn't like smelling bad at the end of the day. Even though we'd just worked on cars all day and our house wasn't very far from the shop, she just couldn't stand it. I think it's the only thing about her that was even kinda girly."
He looked at the old man, holding up the items.
"Where is she?"
Mr. Yamada shook his head. "I no, no. I no, no where she go. She just say it urgent and she go. I sorry."
"I need to find her. She's—"
The phone rang.
Mr. Yamada answered it. "Moshi, moshi, Yamada no shako desu!"
"Mr. Yamada, is Anabella Gonzalez there?" said a voice on the line.
"She no here! Why everyone ask for Anabella Gonzale—hey!"
Dom yanked the phone from Yamada's hand and pushed it to his ear. "Who is this?!"
There was silence and then: "Agent Ackland Johnson of the US Marshals."
"US Marshals? You mean you're the bastard who put Letty into witness protection?" growled Dom, careful not to break the phone in half with how hard he was squeezing it.
"Dominic Toretto, I presume."
"Hell yeah," replied the deep, angry voice. "Why didn't you let us handle it? We're her family. We—"
"If I recall, you left her stranded in the Dominic Republic, right?"
"That isn't the—"
"And the only reason she got into this mess was because she was trying to save you, isn't that so?"
"Don't try to—"
"Look, Toretto, I don't want to argue with you. It's probably a good thing I caught you," Johnson's voice stopped and then there was a shuffling, some heated whispering and then, "because, as much as I hate to admit it, I think you can help Letty."
Dom pursed his lips. "I'm listening."
"There aren't many people Letty trusts. But she trusts you more than any person. Your cooperation with us would show her we're not her enemies. It would give her incentive to trust us so we can help her. Because I'm sure her previous faith in us is lost since everyone she was trying to hide from has suddenly found her all at once."
Dom snorted and rolled his eyes. "Got that right. Why should I lead her back to that?"
There was another pregnant pause. "Because she's in bigger trouble than you think."
"What kind of trouble?" asked Dominic, pulling his jaw tight.
"A man named Ortega from Arturo Braga's organization is in Tokyo right now. He wants her dead. He already killed someone connected to her once."
"What?!"
"Listen, Toretto, listen! If you get her to trust us, the ball's in our court. Ortega will come to us to try to get to her. And we'll take him out."
"No, I won't put Letty in that kind of danger. I won't risk losing her again!"
"Will you protect her?"
"What?"
"I'm asking a general question: if something came along, be it druglords or overlords, and everything in between, would you protect her, yes or no?"
"Of course I would. She knows that." Stop making that promise. To protect me. You never keep it. Dom ignored the words from earlier, gritting his teeth.
"Then…" Silence. "…if this goes according to plan, we will give Letty her identity back and let her return to…wherever it is you are, currently…stationed so to speak….with you."
Dom's eyes widened. Letty would be Letty, again? She'd be alive? She'd be alive! She'd be…she'd be with him.
Be with him.
-*-
"I want to be with you," said a sixteen year old Letty as she stood in the entranceway of Dom's garage. She watched him turn his head and look over his shoulder from under the hood of the car he was working on at her.
His brow was furrowed. "What'd you say?"
"I want to be with you," she emphasized the words, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him like he was an idiot for not hearing her the first time. "Mia told me how you feel. I know you want to be with me too."
Dom stood up and picked up a rag, wiping his hands on it before placing it to the side. "Mia says a lot of things."
"Oh, stop being a cabron, Dominic, I know you want to be with—" She gasped, suddenly, when he came toward her and pressed herself against the wall as two large hands suddenly landed, hard, on the wall next to her head.
"Can you handle me, Letty?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Can you handle the trouble being with me could cause? Someone like me, who did time. Someone who just radiates trouble. Could you handle it, little Letty?"
But Letty's expression came back to determination and a little bit of sarcasm, and it never wavered. In fact, the next moment of their life would be the moment that defined everything for them as a couple.
She kissed him.
She kissed him long, hard and frantic. Tongue, teeth, lips. Need, passion, perhaps the beginnings of love.
And when she broke off, she smirked. "Can I handle it? I already told you that I want to be with you. Isn't that enough of an answer?"
Dom grinned, and the expression was a little playful.
"Yeah. Yeah, it is."
-*-
"You'll let her be with me?" Dom asked into the phone receiver, finally.
"Yes. No strings attached. We'll even give you a headstart to get out of the country and find new lodgings."Dom barked out a laugh. "How good of you."
"Do we have a deal?"Dom chewed on the inside of his cheek, thoughtful for a small moment, before he replied, "Yeah. We got a deal."
"Good, now listen, this is where I need you to g—"Their conversation was cut short when Dom saw a car driving by at high speed. As if in slow motion, its windows rolled down and Dom got a glimpse of a Latino man, sitting cross-legged with a hat pulled low over his eyes, smirking before a few other men pointed their guns out of the windows and started to shoot.
"GET DOWN!" Dom bellowed and pushed Mr. Yamada down covering the man's head as well as his own as the shots fired rapidly, breaking glass jars of nuts and bolts, making swiss cheese out of canisters of oil and antifreeze, and completely riddling any cars that were getting work on at the time with bullets.
The car was gone as quick as it had come and Dom sat up, pulling small pieces of glass out his arm and his head, wincing. "Fuck. You all right?"
He looked at Mr. Yamada.
"I okay," murmured the man, shaking with fear. "This have to do with dat girl, huh?"
Dom frowned, rubbing a hand exasperatedly over his head. He nodded.
Both men stood and Mr. Yamada sighed. He knew why this man was trying to hard. Even having just met him, he could see the devotion in his eyes. He loved that girl.
Mr. Yamada placed a hand on Dom's brawny shoulder and held up the phone which was miraculously still intact. Johnson's voice could be heard yelling for Dom to respond, asking if everything was okay, and Mr. Yamada smile.
"You talk to them. You make plan. You save dat girl."
Dom took the phone, gingerly, and then pressed it to his ear. "All right, Johnson. What do I have to do?"
-*-
AN: Sorry for not updating yesterday. I got caught up in something else. But here it is, my chapter for today! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Beta'd by MoonchildDJ