Chapter 135: Roman's Provocation
"Sexy legs, baby~ When you gonna open them for me?"
In the old warehouse in Rio, a cocky African-American guy smirked at Gisele, who had just rolled up on her motorcycle. However, Gisele already knew exactly how to deal with these street punks.
Click
Gisele immediately drew a loaded pistol from her jacket and aimed it straight at the guy's head: "Want me to open something? How about when I pull this trigger?"
Gisele smiled sweetly, looking absolutely stunning, but she was clearly a rose with thorns.
On the other side, two Mexican specialists carrying their gear swaggered in and started trash-talking in rapid-fire Spanish.
"Looks like you've all met before." Toretto finally appeared.
After the introductions, the most mouthy guy asked the obvious question: "Alright, nice crew. I want to know what's going down. Why'd you drag us all the way out here?"
"We've got a new job." Toretto smiled mysteriously, and O'Connor began briefing them like the former FBI agent he was: "Target's name is Reyes. He runs the drug trade in this entire region. Never been busted because he never leaves a paper trail."
"So that means he never puts his money in banks?"
"Exactly," O'Connor spread out the map: "His cash is stashed all over this city."
"Which means we gotta hit every single location." Toretto continued.
"What?" Roman exclaimed in shock, going off like a machine gun. "Don't think I don't know what's up. This dude runs this whole damn place, and there's only a few of us?"
"Y'all are insane. Dragging us to some foreign country to rob the biggest crime boss around? Man, I thought this was gonna be some legit business deal! This sounds more like a personal beef."
"Even a legit business deal wouldn't want you involved." As they say, the people who know you best can hurt you the worst. O'Connor's comeback hit him where it hurt.
"Is that right? Look, I love all y'all, but I ain't comfortable with personal vendettas." Roman was the first to turn and head for the exit.
Toretto had heard about O'Connor's sharp tongue before, and he chuckled softly. "We're talking about a hundred million dollars."
"What?" Roman spun back around. "You know, sometimes I can be a little... overly cautious... after all, we just met..."
His complete 180 drew laughs from everyone else.
"That's right. One hundred million dollars. We split half the take, meaning each of us walks away with at least five million."
"Okay, I'm in. But hold up—why only half? What happens to the rest?"
"The rest belongs to me, obviously." Ron finally arrived, flanked by his two operators, Hank and Arthur, with a grumpy Carl behind them wheeling everyone's luggage on a cart.
"Long time no see!"
Ron embraced Gisele and Mia, whom he'd worked with before, then turned his attention to Roman. "What's your problem, hotshot?"
"Hey, there's only three of you—four if you count the kid! Why should we only get half?" Roman argued. "Way I see it, the money should be split equally between everyone, right?"
Roman looked around, expecting backup. He figured everyone would support him, but except for the two confused Mexicans, everyone else awkwardly looked away, completely ignoring him.
Are you kidding? Toretto had been saved by Ron years ago and remembered it crystal clear. His partner O'Connor had just gotten his ass kicked by Ron recently.
Plus, Taj had seen Ron in action during underground races and knew his reputation. And Gisele was actually ex-CIA and had contacted Ron before coming on this job.
Speaking of which, Gisele had left the Agency. Ron wondered if he could recruit her permanently this time. He had complete faith in her combat skills and tactical abilities.
"What's going on here?" Roman asked, genuinely confused. "This guy's planning to rip you all off."
He raised his fist in front of Ron's face. "Don't think I'm scared of you just 'cause you got two muscle heads backing you up. Believe it or not, in a fair one-on-one fight, I can beat your ass into the ground."
"Hahaha..." Ron laughed so hard his sides hurt. This was the funniest thing he'd heard all year. "You want to fight me one-on-one?"
"Hell yeah, I mean straight up one-on-one. Not me against all three of you—that ain't fair. If you're too scared, you can even get that kid with the luggage to help you out. I'll be generous and give you a two-on-one chance."
Roman sized up the opposition, doing the math in his head.
The bald guy looked dangerous—definitely military or ex-cop. That was trouble. The heavy-set guy had a serious weight advantage, so Roman probably couldn't take him.
He'd fought big guys before, and even his hardest punches just made their gut jiggle. One bear hug from a guy that size would crush his ribs.
But this pretty boy looked like easy pickings. Sure, he was tall—had a good six inches on Roman—and was clearly built, but those were just gym muscles, nothing like the street-fighting skills Roman had learned growing up in Detroit.
A pretty boy that good-looking? What else could he be but soft? Roman figured the guy was probably all show, and soft guys hate getting hurt.
Plus, if he brought the kid into it, his fighting ability would be cut in half.
Roman had it all figured out: if Ron agreed, he'd go straight for the kid. Ron would definitely try to protect him, and then—bam!—Roman would clock him right in the jaw while he was distracted.
"Ha, no need to involve the kid. Let's keep it one-on-one. You beat me, I'll give you my cut," Ron said, laughing until tears formed. "Right here, right now..."
The moment he finished speaking, Roman threw a sucker punch straight at Ron's face.
This wasn't his original plan, but whatever worked. "Didn't say nothing about no sucker punches!" Roman gloated.
But just when Roman was imagining knocking out Ron with one hit, scoring big money and impressing Gisele all at once, Ron simply tilted his head slightly and dodged the punch completely.
At the same time, an open hand grew larger and larger in Roman's vision.
SMACK
Everyone winced as Roman got slapped to the ground like a rag doll.
"Didn't your boxing coach teach you never to throw with full power?" Ron looked down at him dismissively. "Unless you're absolutely sure you'll connect, each punch should only use fifty percent strength at most. But hell, you can't even keep your balance. I'm guessing nobody ever actually taught you how to fight."
Damn! I just got dropped by some pretty boy? Roman felt completely humiliated and quickly scrambled back to his feet, taking a fighting stance.
But this time he was much more cautious.
"What's wrong? Don't want to fight anymore? Then I guess it's my turn to attack." Ron smiled.
(End of chapter)
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