Chapter 140: Who Am I? Where Am I?
Hobbs, stunned, growled in a voice only he and Ron could hear: "What the hell have you done? Why are they all acting like they're possessed?!"
His aggressive movement drew hostile glares from the AK-wielding civilians who already worshipped Ron as their leader.
Ron brushed Hobbs aside, completely unfazed. He was the commander of the revolution now—he feared nothing.
"Agent, I call it a national awakening. I'm betting you've figured out your convoy route was leaked by your partners in the local police department."
Ron stroked the painted mustache on his mask and continued in his persuasive tone: "Don't you want to avenge your fallen men?"
"Grab your weapons! Kill the cartel! Follow me!"
"Kill the cartel! Follow me!"
The crowd echoed again, passing the new battle cry from person to person to the front of the procession. It was no exaggeration to say that Ron had temporarily assumed supreme command of the entire movement.
Toretto didn't blow his cover, crossing his arms to see what kind of scheme he was running.
Dom's original plan had failed spectacularly, and while he had a backup in mind, it looked like Ron's approach was proving superior.
"I..." Hobbs gritted his teeth, remembering the agents who'd just died horrifically in front of him. Even though they'd only worked together briefly, he felt genuine grief. "Fuck it! I'm in!"
"That's my boy," Ron said, patting Hobbs' cheek with mock affection. He shouted to Arthur behind him, "Take him to the depot and bring out our armor!"
"Everyone who wants to overthrow Reyes' criminal empire," Ron announced, jumping onto a car roof, "get your vehicles, grab any weapons you can find, and bring every patriot you know. Let's go take down Reyes!"
"Kill Reyes!"
"Kill Reyes!"
The chant spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Hearing that Ron actually had armored vehicles, the newly formed resistance erupted in cheers, their confidence soaring.
Don't mistake Ron for impulsive—he'd calculated everything. The route from here to Reyes' headquarters passed directly by the police station, and with all the chaos he'd orchestrated, there was no way they wouldn't respond.
So as long as he led this march forward, opportunity would present itself.
Ron gave a subtle signal to Toretto, who understood immediately, pulling several of his crew away from the crowd. Only Roman, Tej, and Hank remained to operate the "tanks."
Immediately, five modified armored trucks rolled forward and took point at the head of the column.
By now, the police chief's office was practically under siege from phone calls.
Calls poured in from Reyes, the mayor, even the governor's office, all demanding the same answer: What the hell was happening in the favelas?
"How the fuck should I know?!" The chief slammed down the phone furiously.
He didn't know what was happening in the slums, but he knew a mob was about to assault his station! Fortunately, he'd ordered all officers to report for duty and prepare for riot control.
But for some reason, far fewer officers showed up than expected.
At that moment, a panicked subordinate burst through the door: "Chief! Turn on the TV! You need to see this!"
What's wrong with the TV? The chief, in no mood for lectures, flicked on the monitor. A masked figure was speaking calmly to the camera.
"Good afternoon, Rio de Janeiro. Like many of you, I once enjoyed a peaceful life, the comfort of familiar routines, seeing the same faces day after day..."
"Some people don't want us to speak out. Even now, orders are being barked through phone lines, and heavily armed units are mobilizing. Why?"
"Because they want us to stay silent. But the cartel's oppression won't vanish through our silence—it will only grow stronger! Only when we take up arms..."
CRACK!
The chief angrily hurled his coffee mug at the screen, sending up a puff of smoke before it completely shattered. Only then did he realize what he'd been feeling wasn't anger—it was terror.
It had been that way before, and it was still that way now. His subordinate's next report felt like a blade through his heart.
"Chief, many of our officers have joined the mob, armed and ready. What are your orders?"
"What?! What else can we do? Suppress them! Call in the National Guard! Crush this rebellion!"
The police, having received orders to suppress the uprising, engaged the revolutionaries for less than two minutes before Ron ordered a tactical withdrawal.
Afraid? Absolutely not. He wasn't worried about military reinforcements either, because he knew the troops the chief was counting on would never arrive.
He'd already established contact with actual anti-government guerrillas, as well as opposition political factions within Brazil and rival cartels struggling under Reyes' dominance, reaching secret agreements with all of them.
First, he'd promised the guerrillas leadership of the revolution in exchange for everything inside the police station. Then, masquerading as the rebels, he'd negotiated with political opposition groups, promising to support their rise to power in exchange for military non-interference.
Finally, using the power vacuum after Reyes' fall as leverage, he'd gotten rival cartels to prepare a small cargo vessel at the port for their escape.
Everything was orchestrated perfectly—practically flawless. Ron hadn't expected the negotiations to conclude so smoothly, without even needing the contingency plan he'd had Carl prepare.
Now all he had to do was...
Ron watched the withdrawing police forces, a cunning smile hidden beneath his mask. "Since you've chosen not to stand with the people, don't blame me for what comes next."
"FIRE!" Ron pressed the launch trigger, and five vehicle-mounted launchers opened fire simultaneously.
Three salvos of rockets each, times five platforms, totaling 30 rockets rained down on the police station's defensive positions, instantly sending bodies flying. As soon as each volley fired, enthusiastic civilians immediately began reloading the launchers.
Curious eyes examined these seemingly simple yet devastatingly effective weapons. This thing... maybe even I could operate it?
At Ron's command, another rocket barrage launched, targeting the rear exits. After three more volleys, Ron ordered the final assault.
"Follow me!" Hobbs was bloodthirsty and charged first, but two legs could never outpace four wheels.
Two vehicles burst from the crowd and crashed through the police station. After a brief period, they emerged from the opposite side dragging a massive safe. Because the scene was so chaotic, almost nobody noticed them.
Ron had already coordinated with the genuine anti-government forces. After changing clothes, they continued commanding the battle as "V," while Ron had already slipped away with his team.
Only Hobbs remained, having already entered the police station, raising his arms and celebrating with everyone in a complete daze.
Wait... who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here?!
Something feels very wrong about this situation...
(End of chapter)
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