BANG! BANG!
Two gunshots tore through the narrow corridor. Roman and Tej, sprinting up front, both screamed as rounds punched into their feet. They went down hard, sliding face-first across the concrete.
Brian and the others behind them dove for cover instantly.
"Toretto—come out."
Arthur's voice echoed through the passage, calm, sharp, amplified by the comms. Another shot cracked off the ground in front of Tej—close enough to scatter debris across his face.
He wasn't firing to kill. Not yet. He wanted Toretto alive. The turning point to rewrite Owen Shaw's fate lay here, with Dominic. End him, and the mission completes itself.
Behind a shattered pillar, Dom and Brian crouched low, listening to Roman's screams echo through the dust and concrete. Both men tensed, eyes flicking toward each other.
If they ran out now, they'd die. If they didn't, Roman and Tej would.
"Dominic," Arthur's voice came again, cold, deliberate. "You preach family like it's scripture. They're family, right? Then why the hesitation? Go save them."
CRACK!
Ghost fired, a single clean round. The bullet tore into Roman's other foot.
Dom's fists tightened. He surged forward—Brian caught him by the shoulder.
"Wait!" Brian hissed. "Hobbs will be here soon. As soon as he hits, we push back together."
Dom froze, his jaw tight. He stepped back, breathing heavy.
Arthur adjusted his scope. Still no movement. His mouth curled into a faint smile—predator calm.
BANG.
Roman's head snapped back. Silence. His body went still.
Arthur exhaled once through his teeth. No recruits from this crew. Not the driver. Not the fool.
Ghost glanced his way. "Headshot. Clean."
Arthur said nothing, checking his data overlay. Brian O'Conner—former FBI. Tactical mind, skilled driver. Gisele Yashar—former Mossad, precision shooter, situational awareness. Those two could be useful.
The rest? Dead weight.
Dominic Toretto—muscle and noise, all wrapped up in that family sermon. A street-level player trying to play soldier. Good driver, bad tactician. Survived more on luck than logic.
If Hobbs hadn't been the one to bring him in back then, he'd be bones. If it had been Hunt's IMF team, Toretto wouldn't have lasted thirty minutes.
Tej Parker? A competent hacker—but Dade cracked global networks before he hit puberty.Roman Pearce? A mouth with no discipline.Han? Smooth hands, great wheelman, but plenty of those exist.Even Christmas could drift a corner and still reload between gears.
So why bet on a crew that slows you down?
Dom had Letty. Brian had Mia. Both liabilities. In the end, every operation turned into a rescue mission for someone's heart.
Arthur's internal readout pinged movement. Hydraulics. Gears whining. Shadows shifting behind the concrete pillar.
He smiled faintly. He's about to break.
BANG!
Tej's body jerked—headshot. Blood sprayed the floor.
The rest froze. Brian's pulse spiked.
Dom closed his eyes for half a beat—then roared, grabbed his gun, and charged.
BOOM!
Ghost's rifle barked once. The bullet smashed Dom's pistol from his hand.
Arthur stepped forward, unhurried. "You're late, Toretto. Could've saved them. Now they're just casualties."
Dom glared up at him, chest heaving. "I'll never let you walk out of here."
Arthur tilted his head, tone flat. "That righteous act doesn't suit a man who steals for a living." He looked him over. "You call it family. I call it leverage."
His words hung heavy in the air.
"Think about it," Arthur said, voice lowering. "Two dead teammates, one mission together. Maybe they weren't worth much to begin with. But if it were Letty lying there—would you hesitate?"
Dom didn't answer.
"You broke their quiet lives," Arthur continued, "because you couldn't let go of one woman."
Gisele's eyes flicked to Han. Han's stare hardened. They didn't move, but something shifted in the silence.
They see it too, Arthur thought. Cracks in the family.
Dom stayed still, breathing slow.
Arthur's voice softened to a cold offer. "Gisele. You've got discipline, control. Han—you're sharp. I can use both of you."
Gisele frowned, lowering her weapon slightly. "Use us?"
"Recruit you," Arthur said simply. "Round Table. Full clearance, protection, clean records. You'll live longer, and you won't die covering someone else's mistakes."
Han's brow furrowed. "You're recruiting now?"
Arthur nodded once. "Out of everyone here, you're the ones who actually matter."
The rest were noise.
Han said nothing. Gisele's expression tightened, unreadable.
Arthur didn't push. The offer lingered in the air like gun smoke.
"Your call," he said quietly.
He turned slightly, scanning down the darkened corridor. His visor HUD marked new signatures moving fast from the far end—reinforcements.
Ghost shifted position beside him.
Arthur's jaw flexed, finger tightening on the trigger.
Family, he thought. Always the weakness.
...