Author's Note: Well I got a few asks on my other fic about this one. I had been planning on continuing it, but I was still in a bit of a block at the time. However, I think I recouped and I have a good direction to go to wrap it up now. I'm thinking maybe 3 more chapters after this one. I'm bringing some of the players together a bit now and laying the groundwork for Brian to come back to the fold. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5 (O'Conner makes his move)

"Still in the doghouse, eh?"

Dom looked up from where he was slumped when Mia came into the darkened first floor of the warehouse space. He'd pulled a chair over near a workbench. The single light he had on illuminated the scattering of engine parts across the top of it. No one else was around, the place dark and silent. She had to guess the others were asleep upstairs.

"Just can't sleep. Figured I could get some work done."

"Sounds like an excuse to wait up for me," she teased, crossing towards him. She leaned against the bench, looking down at his face. She could tell he was tired, could see the signs of strain, no matter how hard he tried to hide them.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Eh…. Brian can't really do anything to keep his superiors off us, I'm afraid," she admitted, giving him an apologetic look. "We can't stay here too long."

"I think we'll be ready to move soon," he said. "Even though I'd like more help to pull this off."

"I think Brian might come around," she said, then held up the burner. "He gave me this. To contact him and also…. He said there's another number in there of a woman who helped him out in Mexico. He wants me to call her."

"He thinks we can trust her?" he asked. "I'm not even sure if I trust him."

She gave him a wry smile. "We don't have a lot of options, and… he's helped us before."

"If you think it's a good idea…." he trailed off, hesitating, "I'll leave it up to you."

"Sure." She straightened up. "I'm gonna head to sleep."

"Goodnight, Mia."

"Night," she said, reaching the stairs and glancing back. "Don't stay up too late."

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The next morning saw Letty and Han sent out to grab breakfast while the others got to work on some car modifications. Dom had only been under the hood of his Dodge for half an hour when the door banged open with a slam. His head came up at the sound of Letty laughing hard.

"I think you're full of shit," she said. The smell of fried bread tickled his nose. She strolled through the door, shadowed by Han, who was carrying one large greasy bag. He was laughing too.

"No, come on," he said. "That really happened."

"I swear on my life," said the third man, who followed them in. He was carrying a large duffle bag and another large grease-covered paper bag. Dom would recognize the other man anywhere. Ever since they'd been inmates at Lompoc together, all those years ago.

He wiped his hands on a rag, rounding the car with a grin. "Leo!"

"Dom!" The man grinned widely, setting the bag down on a nearby table. He crossed the warehouse space to greet his friend with a clasped hand and a half-hug. "We came as soon as we got your message."

"I appreciate it. Where's Santos?"

"Oh he's outside with the cars. We brought you some gifts, brother."

Dom chuckled. "Should I be worried about that?"

"No you should be bowing down and thanking us!" Leo said, putting his hand over his heart.

Han had crossed the room to open the manual garage door so that Santos could drive in. They all wandered over to get a look, or maybe just to see Dom's reaction.

The engine rumbled as the black car eased into the empty space of the garage. It needed a little bit of work, but the long lines of the Barracuda were unmistakable. Leo nudged him.

"Found that for Letty. Think it might get you a little bit of credit?" he asked, voice pitched low.

Dom let out a brief laugh. "Dunno about that… I don't even want her to drive it," he admitted.

"Why? Girl can handle herself. You were fine with her jumping to and from those fuel trucks in the DR, yeah?"

"Things have changed," he muttered.

"Something tells me she hasn't," Leo said with a laugh. "Don't fuck that up again, hombre," he shook his head, then walked away, grabbing something from Santos while the two exchanged a few words.

He left his duffle and went outside. Santos pulled the Barracuda further into the garage to make more room. Then the big surprise came in.

Dom stared at it for a long moment, then laughed. "What the hell is this?" he asked, as Leo climbed down from the vehicle. It was old, and needed a paint job. But it was very clearly a garbage truck.

"Behold," Leo said, holding up his arm. "Our gift."

"A garbage truck," Dom said.

"Well," Santos said. "You said you wanted something for a distraction. I think this will fit the bill perfectly, no?"

Dom considered, looking it over. He laughed. "Yeah… I think it will," he agreed.

"So, you gonna fill us in on this job and your big plan?" Santos asked.

"Yeah, don't worry," Dom agreed. "But for now," he ushered them over to where Letty, Han and Vince were unpacking the bags that had been brought in earlier. "Join us for some breakfast."

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Brian looked down at the file in his hand for what felt like the hundredth time that morning as he approached the local police department building. It was a smaller branch, serviced by only a handful of officers who operated mostly in the Favelas. Like pushing a boulder uphill, he imagined.

Inside the phones were ringing. A heavyset woman with dark, curled hair was sitting at a desk, redirecting a call before she immediately answered another. He bypassed her, scanning the room.

Aside from the receptionist there was only one other woman in the building, making it easy to find his target. She was wearing a uniform and he caught sight of the firearm at her hip. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she had a severe look on her pretty face as she argued with a middle-aged man in Portuguese. He couldn't even begin to guess what the conversation was about, and hoped that he wouldn't have to try using his rather poor High School Spanish skills to communicate.

The man said something that seemed rather final, then stalked off and disappeared into an office. Turning away, the woman cursed under her breath, then looked up to meet Brian's eyes. She blinked at him, composing herself, and then asked him something. He stared stupidly, then produced his FBI badge.

"Elena Neves?" he asked.

She looked at the badge, confused. "That's me," she said in English. "What does the FBI want here?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you. I have some questions about Hernando Reyes."

She grabbed his arm, then pulled him into an empty interrogation room. "It's not safe to say that name around here. Does the FBI really want to do something about him?"

"We can't do anything without the government of Brazil asking for our assistance. Not technically."

"So, why are you here?" she asked, frowning. "I've been trying to take down Reyes for years, since he killed my husband. But you can't go against him when half your colleagues are on his payroll. And he practically owns the local government."

He paused, asking himself why he was there. He was supposed to be there for Dom. Then it clicked, and he smiled. "I think I know a way we can help each other," he told her. "There's a crew that's looking to take out Reyes. Are there any other police who feel the same way that you do?"

"I know a few," she said, looking dubious. "Why?"

"If you can get them together, and get access to a few police vehicles, I think we will be able to get Rio de Janeiro out from under his boot." He dug into his pocket, pulling out a small black flip phone. "This is a burner phone. There's only one contact in it. When you have the people together, use it to call me and we'll meet to discuss the plan."

She took it from him. "How do I know this is real?"

"All you can do is trust me," he said. "But it's at least a chance, which is more than you had an hour ago."

"I'll take that," she agreed. "How long do I have?"

"The sooner the better. The crew is going to make their move soon."

"Just who is this crew? Black Ops? Mercenaries?" She arched her brow in faint disapproval.

He laughed at the thought. "Not quite. Suffice it to say they're the kind of people who can't stand guys like Reyes."

She smiled then, nodding. She pocketed the phone. "And what does the FBI get out of this?"

"Well, I don't know if they'll get anything in the end. But…. sometimes you have to do what you shouldn't because it's the right thing."