I do not own the characters, setting or anything to the Fast and the Furious and Martial Law movies. This is a fanfiction written strictly for enjoyment.

Chapter 2:

Two hours later, Orson found himself on a plane to Brazil. It had been a very simple task for Dunning to alert the Brazilian authorities to Orson's arrival and what he'd be doing there, and also securing transportation. Though they didn't have unlimited funding, they had a substantial amount. The only thing that Orson found odd was that he wasn't part of a task force for something this major. Well that was wrong, he was part of a task force but it only consisted of him and Branford.

Orson started to ask why there was no major task force set up for an assignment of this magnitude but then caught himself. When Dunning voiced his suspicions of Hobbs had possibly let Toretto and company go, that was all that needed to be said. Since Hobbs worked for the DSS, he had access to virtually unlimited information. A major investigation into the Rio caper would send up major red flags, giving Hobbs time to alter or destroy evidence.

Not only that, the FBI was not immune to leaks or security violations as recent history had painfully taught. It would be tricky enough investigating this case. Add the possibility of investigating somebody that was part of a completely different branch of the government and the chances of success decreased exponentially. No, an investigation of this nature would have to be kept highly secret, something Orson had come to appreciate during his time with IA.

He wondered how well the Department of Justice and the Department of State worked together and his knee-jerk reaction was, not very. Though he had never been part of an inter-agency task force himself, he had heard horror stories from others who had. That was reason enough to not contact the Department of State for assistance in this matter.

Branford insisted on talking on the flight down even though Orson tried to sleep. The senior agent was naturally a chatty sort. No doubt about it, he was friendly but Orson wished he'd just shut up for a few hours. After awhile, the young agent just gave up trying to sleep with a resigned sigh.

They talked about a variety of subjects; actually Branford talked and Orson just listened, nodding intermittently.

"So, you really slapped the cuffs on your old man huh?" Branford asked which made Orson wince. "I'm sorry, I guess that's out of line." The older man immediately apologized.

With a sigh, Orson shrugged. Well we're going to be working together so why not? He thought. "Yeah, I arrested my dad" he replied, then went into the story. "For years, ever since I was a kid actually, he had been collecting protection money from shop owners on his beat. He never made it past Sergeant; my dad was a resentful sort so I figured he felt justified for doing it.

"Anyhow, I had no idea about all this growing up. When you grow up in that, you never really notice the little things that indicate corruption. Its not like my dad bought expensive cars or houses or anything like that, but there were little things that if one paid attention, you could tell he was on the take. I didn't notice this until afterward of course.

"The case came across my desk and of course I took it. I had no idea that the evidence would lead toward my dad." Orson paused for a moment, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. "I didn't want to believe it of course. I was tempted to turn the case over to somebody else. Hell, I was even tempted to doctor the evidence to point the suspicion away from my dad."

"Why didn't you then?" Branford asked, his voice showing he was highly intrigued.

"Because I got pissed off. You see, all my life, my dad told me and my brother that to be a man you have to be good and honorable. I took those words to heart, I really did. To find out that he was telling me this, all the while he was on the take really angered me. I wasn't all of a sudden, angered at first either. It took a little while but when it finally sunk in, I went after my dad with everything I had." Again he looked at his hands. "Needless to say that I'm not invited to dinner at the house much anymore."

That was an understatement. His mother had a major stroke soon after his father's arrest and his brother who was also a cop, refused to speak to him. Things had been tenuous when he first joined IA to begin with, when he busted John Willard, their father, the family completely disintegrated. Orson had become a pariah amongst his fellow officers; there was a line that even IA officers should never, would never cross, and Orson had crossed it.

Because Orson had crossed that invisible line between crusader and vengeful angel, he found that his case load began to shrivel up. He was posted to desk duty more and more despite his spotless record. The few friends that he had gained in the department including his partner, Dwight Scott, drifted away from him. Not that he had lot of friends left in the first place after he joined IA; that was a fast track to losing friends since they saw everybody who worked for IA as "rats" and traitors to the badge.

Knowing that his career was pretty much dead ended in the LAPD, he sought employment elsewhere. Thanks to his law enforcement experience, he was able to easily meet the requirements to be an FBI agent. The surprising thing was, what made him a shoe-in was the fact that his former commander sent him a glowing recommendation letter.

Considering the circumstances, he wasn't sure why he had gotten the letter. It could have been because the department wanted him out of their hair but he wasn't so sure. He never got around to asking, he just thanked his commander and gracefully bowed out.

Branford leaned back in his seat and again whistled lowly. "Wow," he muttered with his voice solemn. "I'm really sorry to hear that. Are you...alright?"

At first Orson raised a quizzical eyebrow but then he understood what Branford meant and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good now I think. I've since made my peace with the whole thing. I know I can take solace in the fact that I was right. There is no invisible line to cross. If I didn't do my duty I would've been just as wrong as my dad was. Besides, my job was...is to enforce the law, not to interpret it." He paused and turned toward Branford. "Thanks for asking though, by the way."

His older partner nodded and settled back into his seat. Orson let out an inaudible sigh of relief when it looked like Branford had finally decided to stop talking and let him get some shut eye. "You know, the Brazilian police do have a major problem with corruption." Branford said, making Orson open his eyes; he tried not to show how annoyed he was. "We should be prepared for...snags."

Merely shrugging Orson said, "It's possible. But corruption or not, if what they sent us is the straight goods, then our job is going to be pretty easy. I've found that no matter how evil somebody or something is, the truth does far more damage than a lie."

Content with that or at least to Orson he was, Branford shrugged and settled back into his seat and closed his eyes. Orson smiled and shut his eyes too but after a few moments, found that he couldn't sleep. Branford's loud snores didn't help things any. To Orson, it sounded like a busted chainsaw. Thanks a lot Branford! He thought furiously. With a low sigh of frustration, he resigned himself to studying the case file. Plenty of time to sleep later when this case is over.