Chapter 164: I'll Take Care of Your Wife and Daughter
"Oh Ron, you're amazing!" Max's eyes were full of affection. Ron was certain that if Caroline hadn't been there, she would have jumped him right then and there.
Of course, Caroline would have reacted the same way, and Ron knew he'd probably have another long night ahead of him.
Wait, what was it Hobbs told me today? As Ron walked the two women home, the thought briefly crossed his mind before his lips were immediately captured by another passionate kiss.
"Ron, make love to me," Caroline whispered breathlessly.
Never mind—with such beautiful women in front of him, he'd think about Hobbs tomorrow.
After an exhausting night, the next day Ron was still in bed when the two women had already left for the shop, leaving him alone to sleep in until a call from Hobbs woke him up.
"Ron, have you thought about what I told you yesterday?"
"About what?" Ron asked groggily, opening his eyes, his reaction slower than usual.
"Come with me to Moscow!" Hobbs explained with exasperation: "The assignment from the Director—you and I would form an inter-agency task force under Homeland Security to deal with..."
Ron interrupted him bluntly: "Like I said before, me working under you? No way. Please pass that message along to your Director. Goodbye~"
"Wait!" Hearing that Ron was about to hang up, Hobbs quickly interjected: "We can discuss the chain of command later, but you could at least come to Moscow with me to investigate."
"Go to Moscow to investigate? Investigate what? I don't remember you mentioning this yesterday."
"Yesterday, a Russian military convoy was ambushed on the outskirts of Moscow. Satellite components were stolen, came out of nowhere. Six military personnel were hospitalized and multiple vehicles destroyed. The whole thing took only 90 seconds!"
"Impressive work." Hearing about such a sophisticated operation, Ron suddenly perked up and expressed genuine admiration.
"Exactly. Such a clean, precise method—in my experience, only one crew could pull this off. You know who I'm talking about, right?"
"Who? What crew? I have no idea what you're talking about," Ron said with feigned innocence: "Isn't that just some ghost story you and the CIA cooked up? Mr. Hobbs from the 'Fast and Furious Task Force.'"
"No! I told you, that was a misunderstanding! I just happened to be on assignment there when the media showed up. I had nothing to do with that mess in Brazil!" Hobbs said angrily.
"I'm talking about your buddies—Toretto and his crew. Don't deny it. I know you have a personal relationship with him. Hell, even my people haven't been able to catch him because of your interference."
"No, it's just that your people are incompetent, just like their boss."
"Alright, I'm not calling to argue about that. Can you please give me Toretto's contact information? This situation is definitely not small-time. Or you could at least ask him what he was planning to do with that hardware? Who contracted him to steal it?"
Hobbs' tone softened. After all, he was asking for a favor. If Ron really refused to help, nobody could force him.
"Listen, I don't know why you're so sure it's Toretto, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that this wasn't his doing," Ron replied confidently. "Since you were involved in that Brazil operation, you should know he's set for life now. There's no reason for him to get mixed up in this kind of heat."
"There are plenty of people capable of pulling off this level of sophisticated crime. Hell, if I wanted to do it, I could've finished the job faster—wrapped it up in under a minute. You believe that?" Ron said seriously.
"So what, are you gonna suspect me next? Maybe I just got bored and decided to build my own military satellite for kicks?"
"No, it definitely wasn't you," Hobbs sighed: "I don't doubt your capabilities, but this obviously isn't your style."
Ron asked with curiosity: "What exactly is my style?"
"If it were you, even in the heart of Putin's Russia, you would've leveled at least half of Moscow before strolling out of there like you owned the place. That's your style."
"Okay, so that's how you see me." Ron stroked his chin thoughtfully: "Maybe you should check out Owen Shaw. He's a terrorist who's been making moves recently. I even found out he's connected to Barak—that drug trafficker who was operating in LA before he fled back to Brazil."
"Hell, Barak might just be one of Owen's lieutenants."
"Owen Shaw? I think I remember this guy. If I recall correctly, he's former British SAS, maybe MI6. I've tangled with him before. Real piece of work!"
Thinking about Shaw, Hobbs couldn't help but get a headache.
There weren't many people in this world who gave Hobbs headaches, and Ron was definitely one of them. When Ron was operating solo, he was already a nightmare, and now with a team behind him, he was even more trouble for Hobbs.
Countless times, Hobbs had been grateful that this man had been recruited by federal agencies early on. If he were facing him as an enemy...
Hobbs shuddered at the thought.
The only solution would be to max out his life insurance policies. That way, at least after his death, his daughter would be financially secure.
Besides his superiors, probably the most troublesome adversaries for Hobbs were the Shaw brothers—equally capable and dangerous.
"Then you're on your own with this one, big guy. Go get 'em. And hey, if you don't make it back, I'll take care of your wife and daughter for you." Ron finished with a dark chuckle, the kind of gallows humor typical among federal agents.
"Thanks, I appreciate that." Perhaps due to their professional bond, Hobbs wasn't offended at all, but instead expressed genuine gratitude for Ron's offer of support.
"Well, if you really don't want to come with me, could you at least give me Toretto's contact info? I need to fight fire with fire, and Toretto's one of the best drivers I know."
"Dominican Republic." Ron thought for a moment. "That's all I'm saying. No extradition treaty there. Even if you knew exactly where he was, you couldn't touch him. Plus, he's got a lot of friends down there. Trust me, you definitely don't want to stir up that hornet's nest."
"Are you trying to talk me out of this?"
"No, I'm giving you the straight dope. If you want Toretto to cooperate, you'd better come with something substantial—like a full presidential pardon. If you don't have that kind of authority, you might want to ask the Director. I'm pretty sure he's got those connections."
Ron smiled, his real agenda now revealed.
(End of Chapter)
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