"Goddamn it, someone answer me!" Letty coughed hard into her shirt, now wrapped around her face. "We need help!"

The smoke had only grown thicker in the time that'd passed since they heard of the Shaws being shot. How long it'd been, she couldn't say. All Letty knew for sure was the air was a hell of a lot more contaminated than earlier, and the smell of leaking gasoline much more pronounced.

"Save your breath," Eric said, lowering himself to what was now the floor of the SUV. "We don't know how much longer we'll be in here."

Or if they had enough oxygen left to still be conscious when they were hopefully rescued. He'd kicked the door, pushed as hard as he could with Letty and Ramsey in an attempt to shift whatever rubble was trapping them. Yet it didn't matter. The door was jammed shut and there was probably half a wall's worth of bricks above their heads right now.

Eric groaned into his hands, cursing himself for thinking taking shelter behind a building was a good idea. In retrospect, it had been, but that small fact didn't stop him from beating himself up given their current situation.

"...Let...?' The radio crackled weakly. Static hummed on every channel that still worked, but occasionally they made out voices and fragments of conversations. "Wh...kay?"

"Dom?' Shit, she would've been happy to hear Rico and Santos arguing like an old married couple right now if it meant they were safe. "We're west of the warehouse. Fourth street along, maybe the fifth." Fuck, why hadn't one of them thought to count as they were driving? "We're trapped in Hobbs' SUV. We can't get out! There's rubble piled up on the car."

Was anything she was saying even getting through? For all they knew, the interference was bad for everyone, but Letty couldn't think about that right now. She had to focus on staying conscious, keeping them all alive. Hobbs had saved their lives by hitting the alarm, after all. She wasn't going to roll over and die now just because of some bricks and mortar.

Gisele and Han wouldn't let her live it down the day they finally saw each other again if she did. God willing, that day would be sixty years from now when she was old, grey, and finally ready to meet her maker.

"Can you..." The signal seemed to clear up a little, like whoever it was had moved closer, allowing for less interference. "...lights?'

Letty moved sideways, reaching for the wheel. The engine had gone quiet when the warehouse exploded and the shockwave struck, but she didn't know the extent of the damage given the Gurkha's armor. Who knew, maybe they'd get lucky. Glancing up, Letty murmured a prayer and pushed the headlight stalk forward. Dust and ash had long since formed a thick layer on the windows, stopping her from learning if the bulbs were still intact, yet it didn't prevent the radio from working.

"Letty!"

Brian.

She sank back against the passenger seat in relief, closing her eyes as the sound of car engines came within earshot. They were muffled but audible. Oh, thank God. She wouldn't have to explain to Gisele just how she'd gotten herself killed after Gisele went to the trouble of saving Letty's ass in Mexico.

"Dom, we've got her! She's—"

"Letty!"

Dom. Never again would she complain about his occasional snoring at night, or the way he stubbornly refused to put his keys anywhere other than his pocket. How the fuck was she supposed to borrow his car in an emergency if she had to chase him down and search two goddamn houses because he wouldn't use the hook on the refrigerator?

It was absolutely ridiculous.

Yet at the end of the day, Letty had chosen him, married him, just as Dom had chosen her.

Forget what had happened in the Dominican Republic. Forget everything that followed and the Hell she'd put herself through for his sake. Dominic fucking Toretto was hers, and nothing short of death would ever change that.

The growl of that familiar engine grew closer until it was all she could hear, accompanied by two others. Then once again the world went silent.

"Ramsey?" Letty looked toward the rear of the car. "Hey, you good?'

"Mm-hmm." She struggled to lift her hand as if to give a thumbs up. "It's getting a little hard to breathe, though."

Shit. Climbing over the seats, Letty made her way back to Ramsey's side where she sat against a seat. "It won't be long. I promise. The team's here. They'll get the door open. You just need to hold on for me, Ramsey."

"Yes, Mum," Ramsey chuckled, giving Letty a smile. "Anything else you want? A cup of tea, maybe? Chip butty?"

Actually, Letty thought, that sounded kind of good. She hadn't eaten one of those in years. Not since she and Ivory borrowed a truck and drove into London to pick up supplies. "With brown sauce or vinegar?"

Ramsey wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Gravy, please."

Well, at least she hadn't said curry sauce. Hot fries on a buttered bread roll was one thing. Ivory's penchant for slathering everything from fried eggs to fucking meat pies in curry had been something else entirely.

"...Letty?!"

There was a sudden note of outright panic in Ramsey's voice. Why, she didn't know. Letty felt fine. She was fine...or maybe not. Darkness seemed to be creeping in at the edge of her vision, and her head had started to feel a little heavy. "Shit," she groaned, "I think I need to lay down for a minute. Eric, check the radio, will you?"

There was no response.

"Hey, Little Nobody?" He hated being called that. Letty turned her head to look and found herself staring at him collapsed against the car's side, unconscious. Oh, shit. "Dom!"

The scream she managed surprised even herself. They needed to get out now. Not in ten minutes when they were dead from lack of oxygen but right fucking now. Letty stood, taking the headrest she'd pulled free from one of the seats and slamming the metal prongs against the side window. It did nothing, but hey, if she was going to go down, at least Letty would put up one hell of a fight first.

"Break, you piece of sh—"

The entire door seemed to give way in an instant.

Light flooded the SUV, illuminating everything. She gasped at the sudden flood of air only to cough and splutter, crumpling to her knees right there.

A pair of arms reached down, pulling her up and dragging her over the dust-covered exterior of Hobbs' car. Letty could barely make out a thing except for the arms holding her—kissed by the sun and thick with muscle.

"Letty, look at me! Come on, baby, look at me. You stay with me, mami."

She wanted to laugh. Instead, she could only smile. Dom knew how much she hated being called that, but if he was going to bepapi then she sure as shit could put up with the occasional ay, mami, you got a boyfriend?when Dom had one too many beers and was feeling especially stupid.

"Ramsey," Letty groaned. "Eric. Save them. You have to save…"

Something uncomfortably warm and plastic was pressed to her face as she found herself laid out on the back seat of someone's car, then a flood of pure oxygen filled her lungs. Letty breathed deep, coughing with each gasping inhale and exhale.

"Owen. Jakob shot…Owen. Where—"

"Just breathe," Dom said, squeezing her hand. Shaw? That was who she was worried about right now? God, of course she was. As much as he hated it, there was something between them that Dom didn't think would ever go away. He was living proof of her other life, after all. Letty's only existing connection left to a world that didn't quite exist anymore. "Come on, baby. Breathe for me. Don't you leave me again, Letty!

He couldn't bear the thought of living in a world where she didn't exist again. One in which there was no chance of her coming back. When Hobbs showed up with her photo that day, it'd felt like God had taken all of his prayers, his begging and pleading and bargains, and finally listened to them.

"I'd rather die," she said, struggling to speak under the mask, "than leave you."

Dom squeezed her hand again. This time, she managed to return the gesture. Only a little, but it was something, which right now was a lot better than nothing. "I got a better idea: how about you just ride with me this time?"

Ride or die, without the dying. Yeah, Letty thought, she could get behind that. "Okay."

"Come on, baby," Tej's voice came from somewhere behind them, "you and me? We ain't over yet, you hear me? I still gotta meet your mom."

"She'll love you." Ramsey's attempted laugh turned into a cough. "Wait. Letty. Where is she? How is she?"

They'd saved her life that day up in the mountains, and not once had Dom regretted it. Ramsey was proving herself to be as loyal as them. The kind of family they needed, even if she had some strange ideas now and again about inviting Deckard Shaw to the Sunday barbeque.

"Ramsey?" Letty pushed at his arms, but Dom kept her flat on her back, oxygen tank laying in the car's foot well. "I'm here! Where's Eric?"

Dom glanced over his shoulder, towards where Little Nobody lay flat on his back with Brian working on him. It wasn't good, and the base's medics were still minutes away. Yet he knew O'Conner had it handled. There was no one Dom trusted to fight like hell for their family than the Buster.

"Let's just worry about you for now." Tears had welled in the corners of his eyes, like a sign that Dom was at his absolute breaking point. "You know, Elena is going to kill me when she finds out what happened to you."

Letty laughed again, grinning this time. She, him, even Hobbs, would be in so much trouble when Elena found out what'd happened. Her immediate reaction would be abject horror, but soon enough she'd grow pissed off and ready to knock some sense into all of them.

That was Mama Neves for you, though.

"Hey," Dom said, lifting her upper body so he could slide onto the rear seat, "it's going to be okay."

He cradled her against his chest, holding Letty as if the world might try to rip her away at any moment. No matter what came next—whether it was Jakob, Cipher or the Fed himself—nothing would stop Dom from keeping his wife safe.

Even if that meant he had to take down Luke Hobbs with his bare hands.

"You want to kill Toretto? Then all this," Jakob gestured at her, "has to be perfect."

There was no room for error anymore.

With her brothers out of the way, they now had the clearest shot at Dom that either of them were likely to ever get. It was game time for Elizabeth, no matter what she might be feeling or thinking.

"Keep your arms tight," he added. "Don't extend them until the sight and your eye are on the same level."

"Remind me, who invited you to the party?"

"Oh, you didn't know? I'm the birthday boy today." Shaw looked at him as if to ask whether he was serious or not. "And tomorrow, and the day after that, until Dom is buried six feet deep and I don't have to look over my shoulder to see if you're still playing minor leagues."

"Does that mean you're done putting a gun to my head?"

"No. We aren't even close to done with that."

Whipping someone into shape in only two weeks was not an easy task, but he'd give Elizabeth this—she was ready and willing. Ready to put everything on the line and willing to all but fucking destroy herself just so Cipher could build her up again.

"Fine." Elizabeth's hand shook as she wrapped her fingers around the pistol's grip. There was no hiding just how much her body's response was driven by pure unconscious fear, or how much pain she was about to endure. In comparison to a couple cracked ribs, this would seem like a nightmare. "You still haven't told me where Hobbs is."

"He's busy."

Sure, he was. Most likely, the Fed didn't even know Jakob had intercepted her and diverted her upstairs. Lesson two was supposed to be with Hobbs, not the arsehole standing five feet to her left.

"Hobbs is talking to his kid."

The skepticism must've shown on her face for Jakob to fill in the blanks like that. Whether it was true or not, she didn't know, but the moment Elizabeth laid eyes on the Fed, she would. There'd be no hiding how much Sam's presence affected him.

"Okay."

"Elizabeth."

Don't you use my fucking name, she wanted to scream. Not after last night.

Admittedly, the distraction was genius in the way of tactics. It made sense that the only way to get her brothers vulnerable would be to throw a spanner in the works.

Yet the fact Jakob had even thought of it made a certain amount of unapologetic hatred rise up in the back of Elizabeth's mind, regardless of how much respect she had for him.

"What?"

The sound of Hobbs clearing his throat came from behind her. "You cheating on me, woman?"

There was a certain playfulness to his voice. As if something about Hobbs had changed since she saw him at breakfast. His mood had been nothing short of bad then, and now it was like he'd gone and gotten laid…

Or talked to his kid.

"Let's just get this over with," she said.

"Alright. Downstairs. Now."

Jakob gestured over his shoulder. "The range is up here."

"I wasn't talking to you, Peter Pan."

If Hobbs so much as began to say the name Tinkerbell, Elizabeth would take the Glock in her hand and beat him with it.

"Hey," the Fed said, his steps sounding behind her. The door groaned as he opened it, boot tapping audibly against the carpeted floor. "You coming, Odile?"

Elizabeth turned around to bite his head off and faltered. She didn't know if it was better to be insulted or amused right now by Hobbs' off the cuff Tchaikovsky reference.

"Odile," she repeated.

Luke looked at her, more serious than ever. "You know the original ending?"

"Yes."

And apparently he did, too.

Swan Lake was a story of love, betrayal, and death. There was no happily ever after for the Swan Princess, Odette. No, she was killed by Siegfried, the man she trusted to save her. A sick fucking irony given it would be either Hobbs or Jakob who killed her if she failed to pull the trigger.

Elizabeth followed him down to the cargo hold without another word, paying Hobbs no attention when he locked the door. Yet again she was stuck in a room with him, but this time she didn't mind so much. There was a sense of safety in the back of her head. Right then, Hobbs stood between her and the door, and anyone who might come through it.

"I told you if we do this," Luke said, "we do it my way. Now take out your gun."

He'd thought it over in his head a few times since last night. Elizabeth was a runner. She couldn't help but move, even if to just tap her extremities. Why not use that to their advantage?

Shaw took a breath before drawing it, keeping her arms close to her body, and getting the pistol level with her eye before stretching them out.

Huh.

Clearly Jakob had taught her something right, even if Elizabeth's movements had been awkward and uneasy. Instead of commenting on it, Luke drew his own sidearm and took up position next to her.

"If you can't sweep a room, you'll be dead before you get off a single shot."

So would he. Much as Luke was loathe to admit it, he was going to have to put some level of trust in Elizabeth. She'd be the only person between him and some asshole with a bullet, and if she couldn't spot them first, Luke would likely be dead before his daughter was ever safe in his arms again.

"Uh-huh."

Two days ago, Hobbs might have asked the question of whether she was even listening to the words coming out of his mouth. Now, he didn't need to. Like a goddamn cat, her head was tilted slightly to the right, ears all but perked up.

He'd first noticed the movement when she was watching a movie and someone mentioned dinner in passing. Then any time someone talked after that, her head tilted again and again. It was subtle, yet a clear indication Elizabeth was paying attention to her surroundings.

"I'm only showing you this—"

Shaw stepped forward, walking down the side of the SUV, and stopped. Back pressed against it, she turned and took the corner, going out of sight before coming around to face him. Her head was on a swivel, grip tight on the gun and lips pressed together the way they always did when she was focused.

Luke had noticed that over a week ago.

"You can sweep a room?"

"Sweeping is just checking it's empty, right?"

"Yeah."

Elizabeth nodded. "Then I can. It was the second thing I learned in prison."

He wanted to ask exactly what else she'd learned in prison, but delving into her past seemed a waste of time. Not that it would stop him. "Why?"

"So the boss wouldn't get shanked in the shower."

"What the hell did you do in prison?"

Shaw's shoulders sagged and she looked away, taking a breath before returning her attention to him. "I took the girl who killed Yuri Makarov and turned her into a woman."

And put on close to fifty pounds. Luke remembered the photo of the wide-eyed twenty-one year old, arrested for murdering a so-called respected businessman. She'd been skinny and scared, not someone who seemed likely to commit murder. The contrast between her then and the woman he'd arrested in Moscow—the woman standing in front of him now—was stark.

"Alright. Let's try it in tandem."

They went through the motions, with Elizabeth taking the lead until he decided to switch things up. Her reaction time wasn't nearly as fast as his own, but Luke had two decades of experience on her.

The truth was he hadn't been expecting much, yet what Hobbs found himself working with was better than he'd thought it'd be. Despite Shaw having no military experience, her time in Russia and Cuba had clearly provided some much needed compensation.

Or not. It all seemed a little too convenient when he thought about it. A little too good for someone who couldn't handle herself in a fight, allegedly.

"Elizabeth." She looked up at him, now seated on the corner bench with a bottle of water he'd fetched from the galley. A ten minute break seemed in order after being in there for nearly an hour. "Why the fuck are you wasting my time?"

"Excuse me?"

"I don't need to teach you how to use a gun, do I? Hell, if I had to guess, you're screwing with me right now." How much of her story was even real? That was what he wanted to know. "Did you ever step foot in prison? Or did they ship your ass to some military bootcamp? You don't learn to sweep a room like that playing bodyguard for some old babushka."

Shaw didn't respond at first. Instead, she drank the rest of her water and set the bottle aside. The longer she sat there, the more likely it seemed Elizabeth's entire history was a load of bullshit. Then she peeled off her shirt, slid off the bench and walked toward him.

"I woke up in the middle of the night to Yuri trying to carve me open," Elizabeth said, fingers tracing the messy scar that slashed across her stomach. "He was drunk or high, maybe, so I killed him sooner than I'd planned to."

She turned, exposing her left side and a thin line that ran horizontal just above the side of her bra. "This? They knew who I was and what I'd done when I landed in prison. I guess they thought killing me would earn them points with the mob. They would've finished the job if the boss hadn't stepped in. I got another scar here," she touched where her heart was, "for refusing to be someone's doormat."

"Shaw—"

"First and only time I ever did meth. The boss let me come down before she beat me so hard I passed out from the pain," Elizabeth continued, holding up her right arm, "only to beat me again after I woke up and tell me if I didn't get my shit together, she'd kill me herself. So I got to work and became Baba Marya's bitch. Attack dog, guard dog—whatever the boss needed, I was it."

He'd never heard the kind of honesty that was in her voice right now, and Luke doubted he ever would again. Shaw fetched her shirt, wiped the sweat from her face with it, and pulled it on.

"Don't insult me by implying I'm some princess who got a slap on the wrist and sent to the naughty corner. I killed a man, I served my time, and if things had gone differently, I'd be locked up again right now for killing you."

Despite the thinly veiled threat, there was something about her words that struck a chord with him. Or maybe it was the look in her eyes that said Shaw had completely and utterly let her guard down for all of one very brief moment.

That right now, she was as vulnerable as she'd ever allow herself to be. Then Shaw picked up her Glock from the bench with those unsteady hands, squeezed the grip tightly, and the goddamn walls of Jericho rebuilt themselves around her.

"Break time's over. Let's get back to work."