O'Conner had just arrived and didn't even bother responding to Roman.
He saw what was inside the container.
Then he completely ignored Roman.
"You f**king...!" O'Conner cursed under his breath. "Are you planning to start a war?"
His reaction immediately drew everyone else's attention.
They turned away from the scattered parts and looked into the container.
The moment they saw what was inside, their expressions froze-just like when they'd discovered that Reyes's men were openly stockpiling cash inside a police station.
Shock.
Stunned silence.
"Don't exaggerate," Morin said with a laugh. "I'm on vacation. This is just a small modification."
"A fully automatic Gatling gun. Bulletproof body. Bulletproof tires. Reinforced heavy frame. The strongest engine available."
"Top speed is about one hundred and twenty miles per hour. It can run at full output for an hour or two without issues."
"Why only an hour or two?" Roman asked.
Morin glanced at him.
"Because after that, you run into a very serious problem."
"No gas."
Inside the container sat a tall, armored off-road vehicle.
External anti-collision plating.
Thick armor panels.
And most eye-catching of all-
A massive weapon system that would spew blue fire when active.
No one present had any desire to test how powerful that thing really was.
"An hour or two is plenty," Toretto said. "With this, we could probably just rush in and take everything."
He paused, then shook his head.
"But let's keep casualties to a minimum. Reyes's men are fair game. Police and civilians are not."
Even if some cops were dirty, that didn't justify a massacre.
They were here for money.
Not lives.
Morin had no intention of getting involved in the operation itself.
His role was simple.
Provide equipment.
Modify the cars.
Get paid.
Upgrade his title.
Open the next world.
After that, he planned to go straight to the Rio beach.
Unfortunately, trouble had other ideas.
Luke Hobbs.
Federal agent.
A mountain of muscle.
Played by Dwayne Johnson.
Affectionately nicknamed "The Little Rock" when standing next to Shaquille O'Neal.
...Something felt off about that, but it didn't matter.
What mattered was that Hobbs was looking for him.
Toretto's group had been far too high-profile when they burned Reyes's warehouse money.
Hobbs's team had identified them using facial recognition.
From there, it was easy.
They pulled everyone connected to Toretto.
Filtered by "recently entered Rio."
And narrowed it down.
Finding names was one thing.
Finding people was another.
Toretto's crew wasn't stupid.
They stayed hidden in the abandoned factory.
When they went out, they kept their heads down.
Rio was huge.
Chaotic.
Trying to find them was like searching for a needle in the ocean.
But one person wasn't hiding.
Gisele still had to participate in the operation.
No participation meant no share of the ten-plus million dollars.
So Morin went to the beach alone.
And honestly-
For a multimillionaire with a good body and a good face, was finding company really difficult?
Lying back on a beach chair, sea breeze brushing over him, Morin relaxed as two bikini-clad women applied sunscreen for him while he admired the ocean.
And that was exactly who Hobbs was after.
Everyone else was hiding.
You weren't.
Who else would he look for?
"But Hobbs," Elena said from inside the car, "have you looked at Morin's file? He's a multimillionaire. A major shareholder in several large companies."
"That's irrelevant," Hobbs replied. "He's not in the U.S."
"If he were, I'd have to worry about connections. Police. Powerful backers. Other identities."
"But he's not."
"This is a foreign country."
"Out here, it comes down to who has the bigger fist."
"And my fist is bigger than his."
Soon enough, Hobbs-completely out of place in both clothing and presence-walked onto the beach with his team.
Straight toward Morin.
Morin had just finished getting sunscreen applied.
Eyes closed.
Enjoying the sun.
Then a shadow fell over him.
He opened his eyes.
A bald head.
Sweaty.
Fuzzy.
Morin: "..."
"In this weather," Morin said calmly, "wearing that outfit to the beach... Officer, are you afraid of the cold?"
He stood up and stretched.
Around him, several women-including Elena-instinctively looked over.
Dry throats.
Swallowing.
Completely unconscious reactions.
Women weren't any different from men when it came to visual stimulation.
It was instinctive.
"Morin, right?" Hobbs noticed the reactions.
And felt irritated.
My muscles are way bigger than his.
Why don't they ever look at me like that?
If Morin could read minds, he'd probably answer:
Sorry. Moderate muscle attracts the opposite sex. Excessive muscle attracts the same sex. Also, I'm better-looking than you.
But Morin couldn't read minds.
So he played dumb.
"Who are you?" he asked. "And what do you want with me?"
"I'm Luke Hobbs. Federal agent," Hobbs said, flashing his badge.
He stared directly at Morin.
"Mr. Morin, I need you to tell me everything you know."
"About Dominic Toretto."
"Brian O'Conner."
"And everyone else."
~~~~~
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