Author's Note: Well I wasn't intending to take so long to update, but I ended up having to serve on jury duty the week after finals were over. Go figure. So now that I've participated in our lovely justice system, here's a short chapter for you guys! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5: An Old Face in the Game

I'd kill for an adventure
Just you and I in the Curzon Bar
Dancing till we knew
So all that we've learnt disappeared

"Flux" – Bloc Party

After some time speeding down the paved streets of Sao Paulo the truck had taken a sharp turn onto what felt like a road riddled with potholes or perhaps made of gravel. Stones crunched loudly under the wheels and it shuddered and jerked often, leaving the passengers in the back wincing from where they sat on the hard metal.

They'd arranged the boxes so that they had something to lean against and sit a little more comfortably, without the threat of one of the containers falling down on them. It was hot and stuffy in the truck and both women were coated in a fine sheen of sweat. Syd reached up to push strands of hair from her forehead, sighing softly.

"Where do you think they're taking us?" Letty asked, breaking the long silence that had fallen.

"To their drug dealing headquarters," the other girl muttered, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Her sight had adjusted to the darkness of the truck and she could easily make out shapes now.

"Well they're definitely going to have an unexpected surprise in this shipment."

"I really wish I hadn't left my purse and my cell phone in the car," Syd complained.

"Yeah, that definitely would have been handy to have," was the dry response.

They fell silent again, and the sounds of the truck rattling and rocks being kicked up underneath were the only things they heard.

"Do you think the boys are coming after us?" Sydney broke the silence again, moving her fingertips in circles over the metal floor.

"I think they're looking for a way to get us back. But I hope they didn't come driving after us like a pair of maniacs. Right into the drug lord headquarters?" Letty laughed, rubbing a hand over her face. "Fuck, I can actually see them doing something that stupid. Then we'll all be in trouble."

"Well I haven't heard a car following us or anything. Maybe we should assume they didn't do something stupid. For now, we should just worry about keeping ourselves alive. We have no idea what we're going into."

0000

"Start talking," Dom growled, grabbing the man by the collar of his faded t-shirt.

Leon had found the truck's ignition key and a large roll of bills in his pant's pocket. It was still a good hour before the warehouse opened but they didn't plan to stick around for that. Dom glared and hauled the man to his feet when he trembled instead of speaking.

"Look, if you don't start saying something I want to hear its only going to end up painfully for you."

The man shook his head, looking at him helplessly. "Eu não falo o inglês"

"Shit, Leon, get over here and find out what this guy knows."

Leon came over, knelt down next to the guy and started talking in badly-accented Portuguese. Dom pushed away from the side of the truck, running a hand over his face as he listened to the sounds of their voices behind him.

After several minutes Leon approached, keeping one wary eye on their hostage.

"Says he and another guy are drivers. They leave their car at the hotel in the city and walk here to pick up the trucks. Drive them out to… I was fuzzy here… a fancy house up north to make delivery. Get the rest of their pay there."

"Did you ask him about the security?"

"Yeah. Said there's guys with guns all over, Dawg. We'd be dead in a minute if we just showed up."

"Well it's a good thing we got something they want."

"What? The driver?" Leon looked doubtful.

"No. The other truck. They only got half their shipment. Let's see if we can get a contact number out of our friend there. Talk to the guy in charge."

0000

It wasn't like he had many visitors, so Vince was surprised when one morning the guards came to collect him from his cell. Wrists cuffed, he'd been led down the bar-lined hallways towards one of those rooms. You know the kind you always see in movies or on TV where the criminal is allowed to meet with his lawyer. Only this time when the door opened it wasn't state-appointed defense lawyer Abraham Santos on the other side. This time when Vince looked up he looked into blue eyes, familiar eyes that bore expressions of guilt and wariness. Brian O'Connor, Cop. Oh, on second thought, his eyes flickered to the glossy ID pinned to his suit jacket, Brian O'Connor, FBI Agent.

He watched as the man sat down across from him and they stared silently at one another for a long time.

Finally Brian spoke. "Vince, I have a proposal for you."

Vince said nothing, waiting for him to say more. Honestly he was tempted to tell him to fuck off, but he wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Have you heard the name Braga?"

Vince nodded. More than half the bastards were in this joint because of drugs and Braga was the biggest supplier between Mexico and the US, in particular California.

"He's recruiting drivers from the street races. Have you heard that?" Without waiting for a response Brian went on. "The FBI is set on bringing them down. But we need drivers to do it."

Vince raised a brow, leaning back in the ugly plastic chair. "Why don't you do it? I seem to recall you can race, or at least you think you can race."

Brian, apparently having matured in the last five years, didn't rise to the bait. "We tried sending a man in alone. He ended up dead. So we thought two might be better."

"And you want to work with me?"

"I thought this way it could benefit us both. You agree to help me and the remainder of your sentence in considered served. You can go home today."

Vince was silent for a long moment. He knew that this was a good deal for him. Because he'd taken the full blame for the truck-jackings rather than give up his friends he'd been sentenced to life in prison. Sure they hadn't killed anyone and they hadn't even used weapons when taking the trucks, but the shipments they'd taken had been worth so much that he'd been convicted of a felony in the LA courts. He considered, rubbing his hand over the scars that wound around his forearm.

"You're serious? Just for doing this?"

Brian smiled slightly. "I'm not going to lie to you Vince. This is a dangerous position you'll be getting yourself into. We could both end up dead."

"Yeah well," he sniffed slightly, shifting in his seat. "Dead or here. I don't know what's worse."

The two men sat in silence, regarding one another. There was certainly little trust between them, but despite the fact that Brian had been lying to all of them all those years ago, he had saved Vince's life.

"Okay, I'll do it."

0000

All Portuguese was translated online

Eu não falo o inglês - I don't speak English