When Vincent and Jack left Beverly Hills, neither of them had fully recovered from the shock.
The information Luca had just handed them was explosive—way beyond anything they had expected.
Vincent knew who Braga was, of course. A notorious drug lord in Los Angeles. But Braga had always been the DEA's problem, not the Major Crimes Unit's.
So how the hell did a truck robbery investigation suddenly lead to Braga?
Vincent stopped by the roadside, opened the car door, and looked over at Jack.
"Jack, didn't you spend a day with the narcotics unit?"
"Yes, sir. The day Harris died."
Jack recounted his training day, though he hesitated when it came to the money he had taken. Even with Harris dead, some things were better left buried. Still, he spoke honestly about Harris's dealings with the drug lords.
"The narcotics unit doesn't strictly crack down on dealers," Jack said. "Their attitude is… flexible. They use the dealers to keep each other in check. If we tell them about Braga, they might not act at all. Worst case, they tip him off."
Vincent gave him a long look.
After spending time with Jack, he understood him pretty well. The kid was sharp, principled, and quick on his feet when it came to cases—but when it came to people? Not much room for compromise.
"Don't worry about narcotics," Vincent said. "I'll handle that."
They got back in the car, and Vincent drove toward the station.
On the way, he spoke again.
"Jack, you're smart. But you don't have the mindset of a hard-edged detective."
"Sir, I disagree."
Jack's tone was firm.
After everything he'd seen—the life-and-death chaos, the dirty money—his view of the police force had changed. It wasn't black and white anymore. It was gray. But even so, he still believed in justice. Still believed he could climb high enough to make a difference.
Vincent glanced at him, then asked:
"If you knew someone was guilty, would you frame them to make sure they got convicted?"
Jack went quiet for a moment.
He remembered a similar conversation with Luca. The answer hadn't changed.
"No."
Vincent nodded slightly, then continued.
"Would you use torture to force a confession?"
"No."
"Would you shoot a known criminal in the back to stop their lawyer from getting them off?"
Jack sighed inwardly.
What kind of questions are these?
Still—
"No."
Three questions. Three answers.
Vincent exhaled.
"Then honestly, Jack… you're not cut out to be a criminal investigator. You'd be better off in a unit where you don't have to make those calls. Patrol, maybe."
Jack paused.
"…But you're still keeping me?"
"I said you're not suited for it. I didn't say you can't do it."
Vincent stared out at the Los Angeles night.
"Solving cases and surviving the politics around them are two different skills. I can't even manage my own personal life. The whole department knows I've been married three times."
Jack stiffened slightly.
"I think what matters most for a detective is solving cases. Catching criminals. That's the standard."
Vincent chuckled.
"I thought you'd learn something from Harris. The guy was dirty, sure—but his record? One of the best in narcotics."
"But he enabled drug trafficking."
"And we don't cooperate with the Mafia?"
"That's different. We work with Luca to catch criminals—not to commit crimes."
Vincent laughed under his breath.
"You should only believe half of what Luca says."
What criminal actually works with the police?
Luca wasn't an informant. And that conversation in the villa? That sure as hell wasn't an interrogation.
"Jack… this situation isn't as simple as you think."
There was a flicker of concern in Vincent's eyes.
None of the information Luca provided had anything to do with the truck robbery. It all pointed somewhere else—toward something bigger. And whatever Luca was planning, it definitely wasn't innocent.
But Vincent couldn't ignore this opportunity.
If they could catch Braga…
That would be huge.
According to Luca, his people had already seized Braga's shipment. The plan was to use it as leverage—to force Braga himself to show up.
Braga.
The ghost no one had ever seen.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
Vincent pressed the gas.
"We move first," he said. "We don't involve narcotics. If they're compromised, Braga walks. We work with Luca and take him down ourselves."
Just then, his phone rang.
His wife.
Vincent's expression instantly turned helpless.
Another late night.
He picked up, hurriedly explained, and hung up—just in time to avoid a full-blown explosion on the other end.
Jack caught a faint echo of yelling through the speaker and silently thanked his own luck.
At least his wife didn't scream at him.
When they arrived at the station, they were barely inside before someone approached.
Dudley Smith.
Captain of the other Major Crimes team.
"Any progress on the truck robbery?" Dudley asked casually.
Jack was about to answer, but Vincent nudged him aside and stepped forward.
"Not yet. Big case, lots of pressure. What about you?"
Dudley shook his head.
"Nothing. Dead end."
They traded a few more empty pleasantries before parting ways.
The moment Dudley left, Vincent grabbed Jack's arm.
"Don't say a word about Luca."
Jack frowned.
"You think it's just the DEA that's dirty? Or just us working with the Mafia? Take a guess who Dudley answers to."
Jack fell silent.
'Is this a police station… or a playground for criminals?'
'Can Los Angeles ever actually be clean?'
The deal with Braga was set for the evening two days later.
Over those two days, Luca and Vincent stayed in constant contact, hammering out the details.
The plan was simple:
The moment Braga shows up—he gets arrested.
In exchange—
"The police will wipe your record clean."
Inside the Dom's crew hideout, Luca laid it out for Dominic and Brian.
"Help us catch Braga, and your crew walks free. Clean slate. As long as you don't get caught doing this again."
That was good news.
Toretto let out a slow breath of relief.
But behind him, Vince and the others looked uneasy.
If they quit…
What then?
After Luca left, Vince stepped forward.
"Dom… if we stop doing this… what do we even do?"
"Live off your garage forever?"
Brian, ever helpful, chimed in:
"Why not join the Teamster union? Benefits are solid."
Everyone: "…"
A gang of highway robbers.
Turning into law-abiding truck drivers.
Yeah.
That was going to take some getting used to.
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