Dom's Commission
When Dominic Toretto heard Arthur Sterling mention that an unknown operative had been lurking around him, actively investigating and tailing his every move in secret, the expression on his already grim face became even more terrifying.
The heavy muscles in his jaw locked tight, and a dark, dangerous storm brewed in his eyes.
However, after hearing Arthur's entire, detailed explanation of the surveillance, the look Dom gave the young mechanic became even colder instead of showing relief.
It was a gaze that promised absolute violence.
"Kid!" Dom spat, his deep voice vibrating through the quiet room.
His thick knuckles cracked loudly like dry branches as he clenched his massive fists at his sides. "Don't get any ideas about my sister!"
Arthur looked at the towering street racer in genuine surprise, before the corners of his mouth slowly curled into a sharp, knowing arc.
He stood his ground perfectly against the massive intimidation.
"Dom, you don't actually think I want to use that federal agent's information just to get your overbearing permission to date Mia, do you?"
To a fiercely protective patriarch like Dom at this exact, tense moment, that confident, relaxed smile looked as punchable as humanly possible.
For a fleeting, violent second, Dom genuinely felt a massive urge to punch this arrogant brat right in the face. And he wanted to do it with his absolute full, devastating force, at that.
He desperately wanted to let this outsider know exactly how blindingly angry an older brother feels when he knows his innocent sister is being actively pursued by a dangerous threat.
"Hmph!" Dom snorted coldly, the sound entirely dismissing the mechanic, and he didn't say a single word more on the romantic subject.
He already completely understood from Arthur's steady, unapologetic demeanor that this kid hadn't come all the way out here to the house just to beg him to stop interfering with his intimate relationship with Mia.
Just a few days ago, Dom's stubborn pride had made him deeply reluctant to let go of a highly lucrative black-market deal he had already spent weeks negotiating.
Ignoring the rising heat, he had commanded Letty and the others to go out onto the streets and take the massive risk of selling a heavy batch of previously hijacked, high-end electronic products.
The disastrous, chaotic result of that stubbornness was exactly as Arthur had urgently warned him over the phone; the crew was nearly cornered and caught by a massive swarm of Los Angeles police cruisers.
While he logically couldn't be absolutely certain just yet if he was truly being watched by that terrifying federal behemoth, the FBI, exactly as this young mechanic had warned him, Dom had indeed felt the suffocating, undeniable sensation that he was being heavily watched lately.
He had already proactively begun a quiet, secret counter-investigation of his own on the asphalt, but if Arthur could actively provide far more useful, actionable intelligence himself, that would naturally be for the absolute best.
Facing Dom's brooding, heavy silence, Arthur smiled slightly, reading the subtle shift in the room's atmosphere perfectly.
He knew with absolute certainty that he had successfully convinced Dom of the immediate, looming danger.
He immediately and smoothly stated his primary conditions for handing over the intel: "I know perfectly well that you have incredibly extensive underworld connections, Dom, so I would like to ask you to use them to help me investigate someone."
"Her name is Stella Bridger, and she is a very famous, highly respected [Lockpicking] expert," Arthur stated, his voice a calm, even baritone.
"I desperately need to know exactly where she lives right now. Of course, providing her secure company address would also work perfectly for my needs."
"Her?" Dom raised a thick, skeptical eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the specific, unusual request.
He had absolutely never heard of the name Stella Bridger before, but just as Arthur confidently pointed out, over the chaotic years, Dom had indeed carved out a massive, terrifying level of fame and influence in the Los Angeles underworld.
It definitely wouldn't be too incredibly difficult for him to actively investigate a civilian's identity, especially when provided with some highly specific, general information like her name and specialized profession.
Arthur simply nodded with a polite, enigmatic smile, deliberately choosing not to go into any further, compromising detail about his grand schemes involving the gold heist.
Then, smoothly and without waiting for the impatient Dom to aggressively press him for more answers, the relaxed expression on Arthur's handsome face instantly hardened into a mask of pure seriousness.
He proactively and flawlessly laid out the exact, fabricated explanation he had meticulously prepared a long time ago.
"Dom, when I really wanted to come over here and see Mia a few days ago, my instincts flared and I accidentally noticed someone constantly watching your entire crew from the deep shadows across the street."
"After dedicating my time to actively following him for a few tense days through the city, I have successfully, undeniably confirmed his true identity."
Arthur paused, ensuring the heavy weight of his words landed perfectly.
"His name is Brian O'Conner. He is currently working deep undercover at that massive performance parts shop located at 14-5 Rocking Street."
"I relentlessly followed him for several long days, and I am absolutely, completely certain that this Brian character has been desperately trying to manufacture an organic way to get close to you guys." Arthur crossed his arms, his posture radiating absolute certainty.
"Furthermore, during my surveillance, he has been in direct, highly secretive contact with several people of completely unknown origin."
"Those specific people were all dressed in tactical federal uniforms and were heavily carrying standard-issue weapons."
"So I strongly suspect that even if this Brian guy isn't a high-ranking FBI agent, he absolutely must be a lethal undercover cop."
Having confidently delivered this explosive revelation, Arthur paused slightly, letting the heavy silence amplify the threat.
Looking directly at Dom, whose thick brow was now deeply, permanently furrowed in absolute worry, he pretended to say casually, "Dom, I genuinely do not know exactly why you have been aggressively targeted by the FBI or the local Los Angeles police."
"But from the highly concerning intelligence I have managed to gather while relentlessly following Brian these past few days, I can tell you one thing."
"You are in massive, undeniable trouble, and it is absolutely not small."
"Strictly for Mia's sake, do not ever say I did not properly warn you."
"Whatever highly illegal things your crew was actively doing before this, you just need to completely stop doing it for a good, long while!" Arthur advised, his tone firm.
"It is absolutely best to pack up, leave the sprawling chaos of Los Angeles for a bit, and only come back once the federal heat has completely died down!"
He said this out loud with a straight face, but Arthur actually knew the violent reality very well in his enhanced mind.
Dom and his heavily armed crew had undeniably been going way too far over the past few chaotic years.
They specialized entirely in brutally hijacking high-value electronics, the exact kind of massive shipments they violently plundered directly on the open California highways.
Most of those stolen goods were premium products originating directly from massive high-tech companies in Silicon Valley or heavily insured multinational corporations.
Bravely pulling off a high-speed heist once or twice to survive would be one understandable thing.
But over the past few adrenaline-fueled years, Dom and his precision-driving crew had ruthlessly robbed these massive transport trucks well over a dozen times in a row without getting caught.
At a very conservative estimate, the giant, influential corporations that suffered massive logistical losses entirely because of them had lost at least tens of millions, if not a staggering hundred million dollars in cold hard inventory.
Aggressively offending ruthless capitalists in a sprawling country like America, where pure, unfiltered capital is absolute king, was a death sentence.
Arthur had always logically felt that if Dom weren't the incredibly lucky, invincible protagonist of the Fast & Furious cinematic series, there was absolutely no way he could have survived this long.
Let alone making it entirely to when the actual, recognizable plot finally began, he wouldn't have lasted several grueling years on the asphalt without getting into massive, insurmountable trouble with the federal authorities.
In any normal, realistic scenario, immediately after their precision team had successfully hijacked heavy transport trucks two or three times on the highway at absolute most, they would have been swiftly, violently targeted.
They would have undeniably been hunted down and eventually taken completely off the board by the elite FBI for being far too arrogant and brazen in their daylight robberies.
As for the local Los Angeles police department, Arthur had been surviving in this dangerous, parallel cinematic world for well over a full month now.
Having seen the rampant crime and their incredibly slow response times firsthand, he basically completely refused to believe in the actual law enforcement capabilities of the regular American police force anymore.
Dom fell completely silent, looking intently at Arthur entirely expressionlessly, his broad chest heaving slightly with each measured breath.
Ever since he found out his innocent sister had been so smoothly seduced by this quiet, unassuming young mechanic, Dom had utilized all his street contacts to actively start heavily investigating every single piece of background information about Arthur.
Therefore, the massive street racer was very, absolutely certain that Arthur Sterling was definitely not a federal undercover rat for the FBI or the local Los Angeles police department.
Although his beloved sister Mia had understandably started to become quite a bit defiant and rebellious over the last few suffocating years, Dom knew perfectly well that she still fiercely cared about his personal safety and the ultimate safety of the loyal crew surrounding him.
Moreover, Dom actively kept Mia completely in the dark, so she genuinely didn't actually know exactly what highly illegal things he was doing out there on the highways.
So, it was absolutely, undeniably impossible for Mia to have unknowingly told Arthur anything specific about Dom leading a highly organized street racing gang and violently carrying out over a dozen high-speed highway heists.
This terrifying realization meant the young mechanic standing before him had relied entirely and solely on his own incredibly meticulous, sharp mind.
Bit by agonizing bit, from countless, microscopic clues scattered across the neighborhood, he had gradually, flawlessly approached the lethal truth of their operation.
For a brief, fleeting moment, Dom suddenly felt a genuine, undeniable bit of begrudging appreciation for this resilient kid.
He is incredibly smart, his combat skills are terrifying, and he doesn't look bad at all! Dom mused internally, his harsh judgment softening slightly.
Even though he is a complete orphan and has absolutely no established family background to speak of on these streets.
If he is truly, genuinely good to Mia and willing to protect her, it is not like I absolutely cannot step back and let them actually give this romance a try.
Once the protective, stubborn thoughts in his hardened heart fundamentally changed, Dom looked at Arthur again with new eyes.
Though his chiseled face still remained largely expressionless, the aggressive, murderous intensity in his dark gaze noticeably softened just a slight, crucial fraction.
After a long, heavy silence stretched between the two men, Dom finally spoke again, his voice rumbling with acceptance.
"The specific person you are desperately looking for, I will immediately have someone reliable ask around the city for you. I will securely notify you the absolute second they are officially found."
The confident smile on Arthur's handsome face immediately grew a few genuine shades deeper.
He supernaturally, keenly sensed the massive, underlying change in Dom's overall attitude; it was undeniably at least a bit less hostile and far more cooperative than it was just moments before.
Arthur was just about to open his mouth to speak again and thank the man when he was abruptly interrupted.
"You probably do not actually own a proper car yet. I heard Mia happily mention your motorcycle skills are quite good, so you should definitely possess a valid driver's license."
Dom got up heavily from his stance and walked purposefully to a shadowed corner of the living room, then methodically looked through a large, jingling bunch of heavy car keys hanging on a wooden board on the wall for a long while.
Finally, he decisively took down a specific, heavy set of brass keys, turned back around, and casually tossed them directly to Arthur through the air.
Almost entirely on supernatural instinct, Arthur raised his calloused hand and flawlessly caught the flying keys before they could hit the floor.
Only when the heavy, cold metallic feel of the brass keys fully registered in his palm did he physically react, quickly looking up at Dom in absolute surprise.
He saw the towering Dom standing tall with his massive arms crossed over his broad chest, looking down at him with what undeniably seemed exactly like a genuine, approving trace of a smile playing on his lips.
"Consider that proper payment in advance. The high-performance car is currently securely parked in the neighborhood repair shop's back warehouse." Dom stated, his tone shifting into absolute authority. "Kid, you are going to actively help me with one highly crucial thing too in exchange for this."
"You will keep a very close, unwavering eye on that undercover guy named Brian. It would be absolutely best for everyone if you could successfully get some clear, undeniable photos of him, especially surveillance photos of him making direct, physical contact with the FBI or the local Los Angeles police."
Dom's voice dropped a full octave, his protective instinct flaring one last time. "Also, you absolutely do not contact Mia for the time being until this massive mess is entirely sorted out."