An Eye For An Eye (Fast & Furious | Hobbs/OFC)

Chapter 12

The sun filtered through the windows that lined the roof of the warehouse, warming the air inside the building and providing enough light that the overhead fluorescents were presently turned off. Luke walked down the centre aisle, making his way towards the group of work stations and the figure slumped in one of the chairs. With their back to him and a jacket half-covering their head, he wasn't quite sure which one of the Shaws it was till he got closer.

Hobbs picked up the cold soldering iron from its holder and tapped it against the heavy metal desk. The loud clang rang in his ears twice more when Luke struck the desk again and again. "Time to wake up, Shaw!"

"I'm resting my eyes. What do you want?"

Awake already? That was a surprise, or perhaps Shaw hadn't slept. He'd set up a cot for himself in the corridor of the eastern mezzanine and slept there overnight while Deckard and Owen had helped themselves to a motel room. Twice, he'd gotten up and looked out across the warehouse to see Elizabeth still at her work station or standing in front of a portable whiteboard, marker in hand, writing out some kind of formula. "Toretto and his team arrive in two hours. Take the time to freshen up."

Elizabeth reached up and slid her jacket off her head, squinting up at him. There were bags under her eyes and her bottom lip was slightly puffed. Hobbs leaned against her desk, a nonplussed look on his face, as if this were some casual visit on her behalf and she hadn't been kidnapped by his friends. "Wh—"

"It's seven o'clock."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Her stomach rumbled as if to remind her that tea and a packet of cookies were not adequate early morning snacks. She groaned, sat forward and winced when pain radiated up her back. "Well," Elizabeth pushed herself up off the chair and stretched, working out the kinks in her shoulders, "I'm gonna go get some sleep."

"Or you can get your ass in a shower, eat something—" he looked down at the trash can beside her work station; three stained styrofoam cups stuck out of it among plastic packaging "—decent and get ready to meet your new team."

"You know, it's funny but I don't remember signing a piece of paper that said I'd be your bitch." Elizabeth tossed her jacket over her shoulder and gave him a slight wave of her fingers before she stepped past Hobbs and walked towards the lift. Even one hour of sleep would be enough to keep her going for the rest of the day. "I'll see you in two hours."

Luke frowned as Shaw strutted away, arrogant as ever. His not-quite-order had gone completely ignored while she walked off as if last night's conversation had given her the idea that she owned the air she breathed. "I said I'd turn a blind eye to your shenanigans, not your—"

"It's called effective time management." She stepped onto the lift and pushed the 'up' button. It was a twenty minute walk to the motel itself, or an eight minute drive. Considering their cars were yet to arrive, Elizabeth would just have to haul ass this morning. "Maybe you should ask Deckard about it, Fed, you might learn something!"

"If you're ten seconds late . . ."

"I can't hear you." Elizabeth gestured to the lift, smiling all the while. The hiss of the hydraulics, the distance between them and loud hum of the motor all served to block out whatever Hobbs was saying. "It's too loud!"

He scowled, glaring at her from where he stood. Luke dropped the soldering iron back on her desk and eyed the bright yellow post-it note in the middle of the whiteboard that read 'do not erase'. Beneath it, calculations were written out messily, with arrows pointing to sections of them alongside notes in Russian cursive.