Chapter 137: Hank's Gift
"All finished!" The African-American contractor lowered the jack, finally reassembling the car they'd recovered from Toretto's escape route.
"Check what they took," Hobbs ordered while cleaning his sidearm. His subordinate turned the key and the engine started without a problem.
"Everything looks good, no issues here."
Hobbs didn't even look up. "Then keep looking."
"Boss, if there were any missing parts, we'd definitely spot them," the contractor complained impatiently.
Hobbs set down his weapon and walked over, frowning. He did a visual inspection of the vehicle first. On the surface, nothing seemed wrong, and since the car started fine, the engine had to be intact.
So the problem had to be...
Hobbs opened the door and immediately noticed the out-of-place onboard computer. He hit the power button and a screen flickered to life.
"No chip detected."
Hobbs' eyes narrowed. Now that was a problem.
The contractor shrugged. "Alright, so they grabbed the chip."
"Breaking news!" one of the intel guys suddenly shouted. "We've got a robbery reported at a warehouse on Grand Avenue."
"Well, if it was them, that chip intel must have led them straight there." Hobbs felt a chill.
The attractive translator who'd been sitting quietly nearby suddenly spoke up. "Had to be them."
"What makes you so certain?"
"Because in Rio de Janeiro, nobody's stupid enough to rob Reyes."
Sure enough, Reyes' men scattered throughout the city immediately began consolidating cash from various stash houses. Everything was playing out exactly as Ron had predicted.
The team members positioned around the area quickly tracked the vehicles carrying the money. All of them were converging on a single location, though that destination was somewhat unexpected.
"You said they'd consolidate the money, but you won't believe where they're stashing it," Tej reported incredulously over the radio as the convoy entered a secured compound.
"I'm guessing the police station?" Ron, relying on his foreknowledge, called it correctly.
"Bingo," Toretto took the radio. "Looks like we need to adjust our plan."
"Nah, that's not a problem at all. First, you guys do recon on the police station. Since the money's there, we just go in and take it."
Ron said it like it was no big deal. Roman, who'd been eavesdropping, immediately freaked out.
"Oh hell no, are you insane? Robbing the biggest crime boss in the city wasn't enough—now you want to hit the police station too? What's your next brilliant idea? Start an armed militia and overthrow the federal government?"
"Why not? It's just that there's no point. The risk-to-reward ratio doesn't make sense. Only some CIA desk jockey would cook up something that stupid. Maybe I should put you in touch with Langley—you'd definitely pass their psych eval with that kind of thinking."
Ron set the radio aside casually, pulling his welding mask back down.
Hissss.
Sparks flew from the welding torch as he attached a steel pipe to a propane tank. If Hobbs were here, he'd definitely recognize it—this was the same improvised "cannonball" Ron had used to create that smokescreen last time.
This time, however, it wasn't filled with harmless smoke, but military-grade explosives.
This was a separate warehouse Ron had secured five miles from Toretto's crew. Since Toretto was too high-profile and Ron was operating off the books, he couldn't afford to leave any evidence trail.
So he'd chosen a separate base of operations and wasn't bunking with the others.
Under the guise of tactical command, he'd logically assigned all surveillance and reconnaissance duties to Toretto's team.
"Boss, I don't get it. Just a few months ago, I was a DEA narcotics officer, then an IRS agent. Can someone explain how I became a bank robber?"
"I think hitting a police station isn't robbery anymore—it's more like domestic terrorism," Arthur complained while he worked.
"Terrorists? Just thinking about it gets my blood pumping. If the other kids back in Chicago knew I pulled off something this badass, they'd worship me like a god."
Carl said excitedly as he duct-taped the camera to the remote-control car.
Since the military drones had such distinctive signatures, Ron had left them all back in Los Angeles. But these consumer-grade toys were still plenty functional.
They just had shorter battery life.
Hank glared at Ron disapprovingly. "Look what you're doing to this kid! He's gonna end up a juvenile delinquent under your influence."
"Playing terrorist is part of an operative's job description too," Ron loaded ammunition into the truck and patted Hank's shoulder reassuringly. "Think about it—fifty million dollars total. How much bonus is each of you looking at?"
Ron walked around front, poked Hank's considerable gut, and whispered in his ear like the devil himself: "With that kind of money, you can cover your brother-in-law's medical bills, and what's left will buy you a house in the suburbs and send your future kids to elite private schools..."
"Well..." Hank's eyes lit up, instantly succumbing to temptation. "Alright, let's do this, but I'm telling you—this is my last job ever!"
"Sure, no problem," Ron dismissed Hank's oath and picked up a case from the back of another truck. "There's no way to get your sniper launcher to you here. After all, your use of it in previous operations has made people aware we have that capability, but don't worry—I've got something else for you."
"Honestly, after using that thing, I've pretty much lost interest in regular sniper rifles," Hank said dejectedly. "Compared to the LG-5, even the Barrett feels like a toy for Girl Scouts."
"Why don't you open it up and check out this beauty first?" Ron smiled mysteriously. "Maybe you'll find a new favorite?"
"Alright." Hank opened the case, revealing a massive rifle nearly as long as a grown man. The thick barrel indicated its caliber was definitely larger than the Barrett's .50 cal!
"Well? You satisfied with your new toy?"
"What... what the hell is this?" Hank was so shocked he could barely speak.
"Anzio Ironworks 20mm sniper rifle. Fires 20mm armor-piercing rounds and other large-caliber anti-materiel ammunition. Designed for taking out light armored vehicles and enemy equipment. Had a buddy in the military procurement business hook me up."
Ron enjoyed watching Hank's amazed expression. "Honestly, I'm not even sure if this should be classified as a rifle or a cannon. According to NATO standards, anything above 20mm is generally considered artillery."
(End of chapter)
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