03:47 a.m. – Echo Park Hills Safehouse
The city was asleep.
Emanuel wasn't.
He leaned against the hood of K.I.T.T., sipping black coffee, eyes scanning the massive data wall inside the garage. Every screen streamed current-world info K.I.T.T. had decrypted race circuits, criminal networks, cyber-merc groups, and governmental "dead agents" programs.
Something had changed in this world.
Too much noise. Too many open conflicts hiding in plain sight. Old names resurfacing.
"Alert," K.I.T.T. said."Secure message incoming.""Sender: Unknown. Bounce node: Tel Aviv, then Panama.""Device used: Embedded military-grade sat-phone. GPS spoofed."
Emanuel raised an eyebrow.
"…someone knows how to knock."
The screen lit up with a simple message:
"Nice win, Ghost. Beat Felix Torres and you catch eyes. You're invited.""Midnight. Warehouse 16. East L.A. Dock District. Come clean. Or don't come at all."- G
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"Someone with reach. And she knows Felix. That narrows it."
"Highly likely: Giselle Yashar. Ex-Mossad, now attached to Braga's cartel network. Danger level: Significant."
"I don't care about danger. I care about the why."
"Then let's go find it."
Midnight – East L.A. Dock District, Warehouse 16
It was a location only those with secrets used rusted cranes, stacked cargo containers, and silence that felt loaded.
Emanuel pulled in slow, headlights off. K.I.T.T. kept a silent perimeter scan running. Thermal signatures showed six people spread out, hiding angles, mostly armed. They expected a double-cross.
He didn't blame them.
Then he saw her.
Standing alone, arms folded, beside a black Ducati 848. Leather jacket, tactical eyes, a slight smirk Giselle Yashar looked like she belonged in war zones and million-dollar lounges at the same time.
"You made good time," she said.
"I tend to," Emanuel replied, stepping out. "You always invite strange men out for midnight meetings in abandoned ports?"
"Only the ones who beat Felix Torres in a race without getting shot afterward."
"I blocked him with a reinforced trunk. He wasn't thrilled."
Giselle smiled. "He's Braga's top enforcer. Cartel royalty. And you humiliated him on his turf."
"I wasn't trying to make enemies."
"That's usually how real threats are born." She circled him, studying. "You're ex-military. I can tell. But you don't exist on any list."
"Neither do you. Not the real you."
She gave him a single nod of respect.
"I work with people who move things. Fast. Quiet. Sometimes across borders. Sometimes across moral lines."
"You mean Braga."
Her lips tightened, just slightly.
"I didn't say that."
Emanuel stepped closer. "What do you want?"
She held out a phone. On it: A video feed grainy but live. A convoy of blacked-out cars speeding down the Baja strip. One of them was a fuel tanker rig. Another had someone familiar behind the wheel.
Dominic Toretto.
"That man is assembling ghosts," Giselle said. "Thieves, racers, ex-soldiers. But not for money. For something bigger."
"I've heard of him," Emanuel muttered. "He used to run L.A. like it was his own racetrack."
"Now he runs crews across South America, he and his crew torched a full fuel convoy in the Dominican. Braga's men are watching him. But Braga doesn't know what to make of you."
"I'm not part of his world."
"Not yet. But you beat Torres. That gets attention. And Braga loves fast drivers almost as much as he loves leverage."
Emanuel's eyes narrowed.
"This is a test?"
"No," Giselle said. "It's a job offer. Braga wants drivers for his new drug run operation Los Angeles to Mexico. But Braga's paranoid. He only recruits through proxies."
"And you're his proxy."
"I'm not here because I'm loyal to him," she said, voice low. "I'm here because I'm watching everything."
That caught Emanuel's interest.
"You want me to work with Braga."
"I want you inside. You're already halfway there."
Emanuel looked up at the sky. The city lights felt far away now.
"And if I say no?"
She smirked. "Then I'll assume you're working for Toretto, and the people who don't like him will assume you're a threat. One way or another… you're in."
02:17 a.m. – En Route to Safehouse
The streets were quiet as K.I.T.T. sped back through the freeway underpasses.
"She's dangerous," the AI said."But not dishonest."
"Which makes her one of the rare ones."
Emanuel's mind raced. Braga was now in the mix. Dom and Letty were pulling fuel heists. And he was being baited into a cartel job disguised as a street race.
"Incoming report," K.I.T.T. added."DEA taskforce is moving on Braga. Undercover agent recently went dark.""Name: Letty Ortiz.""Presumed: Dead."
Emanuel's hands tightened around the wheel.
"This isn't just racing anymore."
"It never was."
03:04 a.m. – Safehouse Garage
Back in the garage, Emanuel stood in front of the projection wall. The images on screen showed moving targets Braga's cartel network, Toretto's crew, various law enforcement teams, and something deeper.
"Dom's about to go to war," Emanuel whispered."And Braga's going to bury anyone caught in the middle."
He paused.
Then added:
"And I'm being pulled into both sides."
"You need allies," K.I.T.T. replied.
Emanuel smiled slightly.
"No. First, I need leverage."