Welcome to Barcelona, home to the rich, and vacation to the tourists who really can't afford it but max out there credit cards doing it anyways. Women are abundant and beautiful as they are rich and very 'provocativo'. On the beaches they wear practically nothing at all and in the clubs....let's just say they force you to use your imagination. The age bracket varies from barely legal to cougar city, but in the land of the rich, hell plastic surgery makes everything look great. Take your pic and enjoy your night, playa, cause in the end, your gonna be broke but you'll be able to say you did that. Life in Barcelona, ain't like nothing you've ever seen before, so enjoy the scenery while you can. Tonight was a night of racing and like the club scene, it was no different. There were women, 'a porrillo', in abundance, wearing mini skirts or really short tight dresses, some with nothing underneath showing everything as they bent over the hoods of cars, purposely just to distract the competition, and some because they were looking for a good time with the right winner. There were some who just dressed like that just to blend in or because they thought it was sexy or because it felt right because of the scene they involved themselves in. The music was a mix of Spanish and English hip hop, electro, or dance music blaring bass thumping in all directions. People dancing on cars or next to them to the beat. Lights flashed in all directions from either the glow sticks people carried or danced with or from the neon under carriage lights from the open hoods, trunks, or from under the cars themselves. Almost any car you could think of was sitting in this lot under the bridge where the racing was going on, but the one thing that was different about this race scene and the ones most people saw in the states, this was only the meeting place. They didn't race at the scene and they didn't close off streets to race either, so unless you had the dough to pay off the half crooked cops out there, you were going to jail if caught. Oh, and Barcelona, wasn't the type to slow down at night like most civilian cities. In fact, it seemed like the night life was busy than the the day life, so traffic was always heavier than normal with people coming and going.

That puts us in the middle of the action though, and at this race through downtown Barcelona was a Audi A6, a BMW M3 series, Aiden's Nissan GTR, and a Subaru WRX. The A6 had come around the last turn, doing 60mph and clipped a car and rolling to a dead stop after rolling several times. The BMW had come up second, but drifted the corner, missing the Audi A6 and taking first. Aiden came rearing third  keeping the WRX off his tail, lifting up on the parking brake to take the drift, but took it too wide and missing second place when the WRX took the inside and stole it from him. With the A6 out of the race and now taking the cops attention, things were going to heat up quickly. One thing every racer in Barcelona knew, was never bring the cops to the meeting place. Always lose them first or it was your ass. Some of the cops stopped to make sure the driver in the A6 was alright but half of them were still n the other racers tail. The other thing that every racer knew in Barcelona, is that when cops were involved, the winner wasn't whoever crossed the finish line, it was whoever crossed the finish line, lost the cops, and showed up at the meeting place first. That was the true winner.

Going down the last straight to the finish line, the BMW boosted ahead of the game using his last shot of nitrous to cross the finish line, Aiden seeing the flames from the BMW's exhaust, did the same in order to cross second and the WRX did the same, only he was a few car lengths in front of Aiden when a car ran a red light and T-boned the WRX giving Aiden second place. The WRX was pushed across traffic and then spun out of control until it smashed into a light pole. Aiden had to hit the brakes and swerve right just to keep from hitting the car that ran the light. He finally crossed the finish line but the race was far from over. Now he had to lose the cops and get to the meeting place before the BMW did and that would give him the win. Until then, it was anyone's win. Aiden took a hard left while the BMW went straight and out of sight. It wasn't until a series of right and lefts and back tracking the way he came, that Aiden had finally lost them. However, one cop had kept up rather closely, enough to see his plate number. Once he was out of sight, he pulled over into a parking garage and shut his lights off immediately. He pressed a button on his dash board and out came a small monitor and a keyboard. Connecting it to his phone, he accessed the database servers of Barcelona, hacking in and changing his plate number like his old one didn't exist. Packing up and pushing the mini computer back into the dash, he waited for a few more minutes for things to calm down before starting his car back up and pulling out of the garage. He knew he had lost this one, but switching the plates n his car was more important to him than winning. After all, he could do hard time if they traced his car back to his house and seen what lied within. It was always better to lose in order to win in the end. That was his philosophy.

By the time, he finally pulled back up to the meeting place, the BMW had just pulled in himself. The guy from the BMW was actually a chick and Aiden smiled when seeing her step out from the car. Damn she was fine too, he thought to himself. Long black hair, Latino native, nice long legs that he wished would be wrapped around his waist, and a rack that popped out begging for him to bury his face in. And her eyes, awesome, and soft, but that tongue was as quick as a viper's, 

"Get outta of the car and give me my money, bitch."

He heard every word and only smiled some more as he stepped out in his cream colored suit and his Brazilian crocodile boots. Keys went into his pocket and his phone slid out, "Gimme your number first 'la amiguita' " he spoke with his Spanish accent and a smile that could melt any cold heart of stone.

''Fuck you, I want my money, now hand it over or I'll beat your ass pappi" 

"I might just let you, chica." he said pulling out a wad of dough when he reached her and placed it in her hand. Unfortunately, what she didn't see coming, was him leaning in and giving her a slow kiss afterward. "You earned it, Chica." he finished and pulled away. Lasting impressions were always the key to gaining entry to a woman's heart, he knew that, but what he knew and no one else did, was even better. 


"Whose up for another race?" the race host exploited to the crowd. "C'mon Aiden, you know you want to gain what you lost." 

Aiden turned around to say no just as he bumped into someone and instead waved his hand no instead of speaking. Partially becuase he didn't want to be taunted any further and partially because his mouth was already moving to the gentleman he bumped into. "Perdóneme señor, por mi culpa, por favor, perdóname."
  

"Perdóneme señor, por mi culpa, por favor, perdóname."

The black haired young man wearing a business suit in black was interrupted from watching the flaunting women walking back and forth. Dancing to rhythms of a ghetto Carlos Santana and wearing some of the skimpiest outfits over, that brown light skin like brown sugar with those mesmerizing eyes of spanish descent. They were making Edward Beatty feel some type of way about himself. Shit, we don’t have women like this back home was what came to mind. The scene was crazy and what’s even crazier is he is glad his airplane had a layover in Barcelona. His black suit outfitted with some black dress shoes with white insoles on the front. His earrings were encrusted with huge diamonds, and a iced out diamond Rolex that was gold layered adorned his right wrist. His hair was slicked back with a matching goatee and sideburns. His blue eyes sized the man up who looked to be of Spanish origin himself. Edward chuckled at the younger man because not only does he NOT speak a lick of english this guy looked like Pitbull mixed with Emilio Estevez. He looked off in the distant and noticed he was driving a souped up Nissan GT-R Nissmo. Must be nice because Edward couldn’t join the race due to the simple fact he is stuck in a white rental which is factory. Edward shrugs at the man before opening his mouth to make a reply, his mid-west accent coming out, deep voiced but obviously an American undertone.


“Sorry homie, I don’t speak english. But nice ride you got over there. What is it pushing under the hood, 450 Horses?”

Who he bumped he didn't know but that was probably because the guy was a new face around here. Although, he wouldn't have been able to tell that either since he didn't know half the faces around here. Aiden was bad at faces and even more so with names, unless of course they were female. What he did recognize though was the clothes that the man was wearing. Was that Armani with wing tipped shoes? Was hat a Rolex? The guy had style he had to admit, but not so much color. Didn't he know he was in Spain? Barcelona in fact? Black was so dull and he was looking more like a renegade cop but what gave it away was the iced out ear rings. He was no cop, just not from around here. 

“Sorry homie, I don’t speak english. But nice ride you got over there. What is it pushing under the hood, 450 Horses?”

Aiden laughed and laughed hard when the guy spoke, but that was probably because of what he said without thinking first, "So if you don't speak English, what are you speaking now?" he said once the laughter finally died down. As far as what he had under the hood, hell if he knew. He didn't work on it so what did he care? He didn't know a lick about cars and if you asked him where the starter was, he'd be the one to tell you its where you put the key in. Of course that would be sarcasm and he'd later point you under the hood, but where, he was clueless. So naturally, Aiden responded with sarcasm. "And to answer your question, it's pushing an engine, a really big one. The horses are in the stables back in the 'granja',  hermano." he chuckled a bit. "I just drive it." 

It was then that the 'Chica' that won the race finally came up to him after being shocked over the whole kiss thing. She tapped him on the shoulder and as he turned around, that's when the slap came to his face, making his head turn in ways that he couldn't imagine. 

"You think you can just taste the goods without at least buying a girl a drink first? Who the hell do you think you are?

She then stormed off back to her car and in, peeling out as she drove off. Aiden was left rubbing his face as he turned around to see the guy still standing there. with a thumb over his shoulder in the direction the girl went, he tried to defend himself, "That happens all the time, she'll be back." he said walking towards a car with some of the few friends he had. "You want a Corona? That's Spanish for Beer around here." he spoke with more sarcasm. "It's the least I can do for being rude enough to bump into you, Hermano"

"So if you don't speak English, what are you speaking now?"

Edward stood there for a moment. Not realizing he misspoken his own words with his own language. He places his hand on his forehead as a sign of he can’t believe he just did that. He was distracted by the fine honey’s walking around in damn near nothing on. He removes his hand trying to regain his composure so he laughs with the unknown brown skin dude who looks like a modern day Richie and at anytime will start singing La Bamba. The night sky becoming alittle overcast bringing a cool air over the hangout spot for the racers. The bright lights around the structures making his earrings gleam with the lights making him stand out even more. He looks around at the structures and just flashes a big smile at the guy he just met.


“Well I seemed to choke on my words looking at these fine ass women here in Spain. My god I haven’t been able to roll my tongue back into my mouth yet."


With that being said, he begin checking of the man’s ride. Admiring the black and black layout of the ride. The fishtail spoiler poking out like a fish out of water. The wings on the side of the car was kinda dull design in Edward’s eyes but hey to each their own. It seemed to have a mesh guard under the back bumper which Edward has never seen before on a car. Edward’s facial expression went to one of intrigue and confusion as he circled the man’s car, running his hand along the hood, it seemed like fiberglass, which was smart Edward was thinking, can increase speed but would wrap around the pole or dent up pretty bad and break into pieces with a car more heavier. He debated with himself on if he should tell the man that information. Being the fact he used to lead his own crew back home. He stops in front of the car noticing he had some interesting rims. Again, never seen them before. He makes a circle back around the car to look Aiden in his eyes, the cold blue piercing eyes of Edward locking on the shorter man who has since stopped laughing because Edward was every bit serious about the question of what does his car push. He doesn’t play when it comes to racing. He expects most racers to know what’s under the hood if they wanna be taken serious. If you don’t know, hook up with someone who knows or can teach you.

And to answer your question, it's pushing an engine, a really big one. The horses are in the stables back in the 'granja', hermano. I just drive it."

Edward smirks at the obvious hint of sarcasm. Normally this would anger Edward and honestly his face began to contort with his eyebrows furrowing into an angry look but then relaxed as Edward chuckles himself abit. Pushing closer toward the personal space of Aiden. He can smell the guy’s cologne. Spanish of course but not sure of what kind. He looks down at Aiden with a confident feeling and even more confident look etched in his features on his face. Wouldn’t call it condescending or anything just the cocky and competitive nature within Edward that made him the “King Of The Midwest”. Edward whispers to where only Aiden could hear his words.


“Some friendly advice to you homeboy would be to learn how to determine what’s under your hood yourself or somebody is gonna cost you that sweet ride.



Edward can see some women walking toward them, Long black hair, with some sort of Spanish tone to her, huge rack and some legs longer than a spider that looks like she can latch onto you for a ride of your life. Edward smirks at the random women who turns around the unknown man and smacks holy Spanish tamale fire out of his ass! Edward was taken aback as he leaned back abit hearing the smack radiate through the crowd. Lucky enough for the guy maybe no one noticed. Edward liked the fact she had fire in her and he even chuckled himself at the guys plight. Obviously he has a way with women that isn’t accustomed to Americans. Edward tries to blend in like a ghost from a paranormal show but fails miserably as the Latina women looks at Edward before speaking to the man.


"You think you can just taste the goods without at least buying a girl a drink first? Who the hell do you think you are?


Edward stood there watching the women peel off in her super fast car. As Aiden turned to look at Edward who was trying his hardest to hold his laughter in. His white face turning sort of red as Aiden is seen rubbing his face. He removes his hand and Edward can see a red hand print in his brown toned skin. Edward begins shaking his head as he points his thumb behind him letting Aiden know his princess in a souped up car drove off that way. Edward looks at Aiden like he really doesn’t have moves like Bruno Mars and damn sure not slick with them like Enrique. Also he begins to wonder how mad the guy would become with these references to these Spanish people. It’s Edward’s way of joking though and ribbing people.

That happens all the time, she'll be back."

“I don’t know man. She seemed pretty pissed you shoplifted a kiss from her I guess. I doubt she be back.”


Edward takes the cue and begins following Aiden toward a car with a bunch of guys. Granted Edward is thousands of miles away from home, and starts to feel uncomfortable about this. Unsure of everything while following behind him, Edward patted his own back to make sure he didn’t forget his chrome .45 gun that is fully loaded. Edward sighs a sound of relief as he keeps following the man. He is beginning to like Spain but hasn’t forgotten his main goal. Dominic Toretto. Edward begins to ponder some more about this mysterious racing god as he is deemed and why he flee from his home back in Los Angeles. His train of thought is interrupted by the guy looking like a lead singer of a Spanish version of The Backstreet Boys speaks up.

You want a Corona? That's Spanish for Beer around here. "It's the least I can do for being rude enough to bump into you, Hermano"

“We have Corona back home. So I’m used to it. We have a small Mexican population where I live at. Not big say like Los Angeles or anything. But pretty decent. But yeah, sure I wouldn’t mind having a Corona. By the way the name is Edward.

Edward extends his hand out in the form of a handshake. Edward’s demeanor is that a handshake his a bond of friendship or holding one to their word. Not like how Hector played him back in LA. He hopes Aiden is more about his word and follows through with action.

“Well I seemed to choke on my words looking at these fine ass women here in Spain. My god I haven’t been able to roll my tongue back into my mouth yet."

Aiden only laughed as a reply but didn't speak anything about it. He had humiliated the man enough with just his words alone so there was no reason to do so again with more. His objective though wasn't to humiliate him, it just kinda happened. Aiden wasn't the type of guy to go out of his way to humiliate anyone, yet alone a guy. Men had a certain pride to them and from the things he was told, Americans were very prideful men. Luckily, this one not so much as he took the criticism lightly. Most Americans would have started getting mouthy and want to fight, but this one.....Did he apologize? Looking around at the women, he could see how he was a bit preoccupied so therefore, only a laugh was released as a sign of acknowledgement and that's all the American was going to get. 

“Some friendly advice to you homeboy would be to learn how to determine what’s under your hood yourself or somebody is gonna cost you that sweet ride."

Again he smiled, but didn't reply. That was the good thing about Americans. They seemed to talk to much and by talking so much, they gave away much detail to what they were like. For Example, Just in that one sentence, this man has given Aiden the knowledge that he likes to race, he's competitive, he likes to win, he likes to boast in his glory, and he thinks he knows it all. A lot of information can be extracted out of just a few mere words, but unless you know how to do this, it is very rarely seen or done by most. Aiden's life was built around small details and information so to notice this, was nothing uncommon for him. And with knowing all this, he could already foresee that this man would have a heart attack if he responded with words, so he didn't. Although, in the same aspect, he wouldn't have been able to anyways since that was the very moment he was smacked like he had just cheated n his girl. 

"I don’t know man. She seemed pretty pissed you shoplifted a kiss from her I guess. I doubt she be back.”

Aiden again nodded and smiled, but this time offered the comfort of knowing his people. "Ah, I see you don't know the customs around here. Trust me...." he said letting the words roll off his tongue. "She'll be back." That was when he offered the American a Corona and started walking towards the few friends he had. 

“We have Corona back home. So I’m used to it. We have a small Mexican population where I live at. Not big say like Los Angeles or anything. But pretty decent. But yeah, sure I wouldn’t mind having a Corona. By the way the name is Edward."

 

The American stretched out his arm to offer a handshake and Aiden took it, giving it a shake in return as well as his name, "Aiden......" he said seeing that last names were not particularly important here as the man didn't offer his own. When he released the man's hand, he handed him the Corona with his other, "Drink my friend. Tonight we drink for a victory." he said popping his own cap off and draining half the contents in a single gulp. "You see, 'Hermano' I never race for pinks unless I am willing to lose my car and that only happens when I have grown tired of it and want to get rid of it. I don't race to win, winning is not my talent just like fixing or knowing anything about these 'fabuloso' machines aren't. I only drive them and there is a reason for that......" he said taking a sip from his bottle again.  '' 'Adrenalina', 'Chico.' It's all about the rush I get from it. I don't care if I lose or win. It's just money, 'Amiogo' To pay five K to get an adrenaline rush is well worth it to me. If I wanted to win, 'Amigo' I would, but I would hire someone else to fix that hunk of junk for me." he said downing the rest of his beer and tossing the bottle into the trash. 

"Aiden...." 

He turned around just in time to see another beer being tossed to him from Santos. As he caught it, he looked to Santos,"Hey, Amigo, If I wanted to win all the time, you know how to fix up my ride to do it, right?" 

"Hell yeah, these Spics ain't got nothing on me, Hermano. You just never seemed....to want to." 

Aiden held up his beer in thanks and acknowledgement. "My point, 'Hermana', is that everyone races for different reasons. Don't judge because of one race or what people know or don't. Winning isn't everything." he said with a smile. "and one other thing......" he said with a serious look like he was going to beat some American ass "Some folks around here would take serious offense to what you just said about Mexicans." but soon that serious look turned into a smile. "Don't compare us to those wetback beaners again. We are proud to be Spaniards." he said now laughing, but that would soon stop as the sound of a roaring BMW would pull back into the picture. "See, Chico, I told you she'd be back." he said holding up his beer bottle in her direction.

The Spanish woman stepped out her car and slamming the door shut and looking directly at Aiden as she began to scream, "You motherfucken 'gilipollas hijo de puta' This is only 4 grand, where's my other thousand?"[/b] she said storming up to him.

Aiden looked to her with a smile. "I got it right here, Chica." he said pointing to his crotch, "...But you'll have to dig for it." 

The Spanish woman got really pissed and started cussing him out in Spanish one after the other.

"'Relajarse mujer' I'm just playin with ya." he said pulling the other thousand out of his pocket but not handing it to her. "I got another thousand for ya if you go on a date with me."

"Motherfucker, you for real?" she said stepping back giving him that Latino attitude. 

"It's either that or we can race for it. Winner dates the loser, in which case, I win no matter what." he said smiling again. 

''Fuck you. Just give me my money."

Aiden handed over the roll but not before writing his number down on one of the bills. Placing the roll in her hand he replied, "I'd love you to. My numbers on the back 'Senorita'. Call me when you're ready." 

She took her money and walked off back to her car. Aiden on the other hand, cracked open his other beer and looked to Edward. "You see, Amigo, that is why I race. Not for the win, not for the money, but for the women. Granted, I'll give it to you that winning does go a long way and makes things easier, but when you can strike a woman like that by losing, that is skill. I'd be willing to bet in less than a week, I'll have her eating out of my hands and I'll be eating out something else if you know what I mean." he said smiling and sipping his beer again. "Until then, amigo, What brings you to Barcelona? You are truly not from around here so I'm guessing you to be an intrigued tourist?" he said guessing. 

Ah, I see you don't know the customs around here. Trust me...."She'll be back."

“Well I will be the first admit this a new world to me for sure. And if these customs are what this side of the world is about I’m pretty sure I can get used to it.”


Edward smiled that slick mid-western smile as he grabbed the Corona from the man’s other hand, as the handshake of Edward’s was firm. He kept smiling as he released the handshake and twisted open the cap off the bottle of Corona.

"Aiden......"Drink my friend. Tonight we drink for a victory. "You see, 'Hermano' I never race for pinks unless I am willing to lose my car and that only happens when I have grown tired of it and want to get rid of it. I don't race to win, winning is not my talent just like fixing or knowing anything about these 'fabuloso' machines aren't. I only drive them and there is a reason for that......"

He held onto the lid with his left hand as he brought the bottle up to his lips with his right hand, tipping it back to match the man with his gulp which he took half the bottle and then went even further to finish the bottle of Corona. He pulls the bottle away from his lips and winks his right eye at Aiden. He then twists the cap back on the empty bottle sitting it back down near his feet. In his eyes it could be also used a weapon if things went awry. He’s trying to keep a low profile for the time being. He looks at Aiden locking eyes with him because he himself is trying to get a feel for Aiden and a respectful thing for a man to do is to pay attention to another man when he explains himself. Normally if he is lying he will make certain movements with his feet, or his hands will be jittery or have to be occupied to keep the lie going. Or his eyes become shifty. Aiden never broke his eye contact. So, that put Edward at relative ease. Edward nods his head in agreement seeing what kind of person he is.

'' 'Adrenalina', 'Chico.' It's all about the rush I get from it. I don't care if I lose or win. It's just money, 'Amiogo' To pay five K to get an adrenaline rush is well worth it to me. If I wanted to win, 'Amigo' I would, but I would hire someone else to fix that hunk of junk for me."

“Thanks for the Corona Aiden. But, that’s an interesting way to look at racing. See where I come from winning is everything. Winning is about money, power and respect. Winning to me is the reason I do this. I raced for pink slips before. I never lost. The word lost isn’t in my vocabulary.”


"Aiden...."


Edward looked to the other man as he tosses Aiden a Corona. Really at this point Edward has half mentally decided he is gonna cut himself off the drinking for now. One is good enough. He has to keep himself sober to drive back to the airport and to also keep a leg up on these guys. He’s still leery of them. He’s outnumbered and this beautiful scene of women and fast cars, dancing and partying. He is still an outsider. And he’s very mindful of people’s turfs. That’s just a smart thug thing. He eyes the Santos guy as he looks back at Aiden. While Edward has no problem being cocky he knows other countries dislike the big loud american but shit, it’s who we are. Edward looks around shifts his feet into a comfortable defensive state just in the event something pops off. Edward eyes lock back onto Aiden.

"Hey, Amigo, If I wanted to win all the time, you know how to fix up my ride to do it, right?"

"Hell yeah, these Spics ain't got nothing on me, Hermano. You just never seemed....to want to."

My point, 'Hermana', is that everyone races for different reasons. Don't judge because of one race or what people know or don't. Winning isn't everything...and one other thing......"Some folks around here would take serious offense to what you just said about Mexicans."

Edward face becomes serious as he places his hands on his hips. The reason for that is he will pull his gun to allow him to make a safe escape. He wasn’t meaning anybody any harm but he won’t lie down and let people harm him. He see’s Aiden face turn from a serious I’m gonna kick your ass emotion etched in his smooth features to one of a smile as Edward removed his arms off his hips to relax his nerves and his body again. He smirks at Aiden and at his assuming of things. Another American thing we tend to do with cultures we are not familiar with. He chuckles abit at what happens next.

"Don't compare us to those wetback beaners again. We are proud to be Spaniards."

“My bad homie. I wasn’t aware there was much a difference you know. Us good old americans aren’t used to seeing full blooded Spanish people ya know, at least where I come from anyway.”


Edward looks up at the same time Aiden does at the roaring engine of the BMW. It sounds like that mothafucka has a fuel injector system that makes it push that red line in like .4 seconds flat. No wonder Aiden lost is what Edward begin to think. He crossed his arms and leaned against Aiden’s car to watch this interaction. Edward is always up for a good laugh. He just wishes he had popcorn for this because it’s about to be classic. Edward could see Aiden being a friend of his at some point.

"See, Chico, I told you she'd be back."

You motherfucken 'gilipollas hijo de puta' This is only 4 grand, where's my other thousand?"

"I got it right here, Chica.....But you'll have to dig for it."

Edward sat back watching this. Begin laughing silently to himself as he watched Aiden point to his crotch. The spanish women started clicking her nails on her own ride and at this point Edward started to not understand a word coming out of her mouth. Perhaps he really should have listened in High School to that guidance counselor and took that Spanish course. He has his arms crossed wishing he knew exactly what she was saying but had no earthly idea what the brown skin firecracker was spewing out her mouth at Aiden. Edward was waiting for her to smack him again. Not gonna lie, Edward would have busted out laughing at Aiden if he gets smacked again.

"'Relajarse mujer' I'm just playin with ya” he said pulling the other thousand out of his pocket but not handing it to her. "I got another thousand for ya if you go on a date with me."

"Motherfucker, you for real?"

"It's either that or we can race for it. Winner dates the loser, in which case, I win no matter what."

''Fuck you. Just give me my money."

Aiden handed over the roll but not before writing his number down on one of the bills. Placing the roll in her hand he replied, "I'd love you to. My numbers on the back 'Senorita'. Call me when you're ready.”

"You see, Amigo, that is why I race. Not for the win, not for the money, but for the women. Granted, I'll give it to you that winning does go a long way and makes things easier, but when you can strike a woman like that by losing, that is skill. I'd be willing to bet in less than a week, I'll have her eating out of my hands and I'll be eating out something else if you know what I mean." he said smiling and sipping his beer again. "Until then, amigo, What brings you to Barcelona? You are truly not from around here so I'm guessing you to be an intrigued tourist?" he said guessing.

Edward laughed at Aiden for his comments about having her eat out of his hands and being out of something else. Sounds like a smart ass comment Edward would say is what he is thinking. Edward was brought back to reality by Aiden asking him a very loaded question. His eyes became serious as he noticed that Aiden is smiling. But does Edward really wanna blow the cover of where he is headed? Could he trust Aiden with giving him that type of information. Edward determined in his mind it is what it is and maybe this might be beneficial to Edward. So he smiles as he locks eyes with Aiden.


“I had a layover in Barcelona. I’m on my way to Monte Carlo. I decided I wanted to see what the racing scene is like here. But, I’m on my way there looking for a guy named Dominic Toretto.”

“I had a layover in Barcelona. I’m on my way to Monte Carlo. I decided I wanted to see what the racing scene is like here. But, I’m on my way there looking for a guy named Dominic Toretto.”

Dominic Toretto......He had never heard of this guy before until now, but he seemed like an interesting Cat for this guy to be travelling all the way from the states just to be hunting this guy down. The question was, is why? "This guy sounds like someone important, should I know who he is? Or rather yet, why you're looking for him?" he asked curiously. He had heard a lot of a lot of people, but this guy was not one of them. Considering that Eduardo here was in the race scene told him that maybe this guy was a racer on the run who owed him money. Aiden finally got comfortable a bit as he sat down on the hood of Santos car and leaned back against the window. Taking a sip of his Corona, he looked to Santos, leaning a bit forward so he could look behind him. "You ever hear of this Toretto guy?" 

"I hear a lot of things about a lot of people and the name sounds familiar, but I can't place it off the top of my head."

Aiden looked again at Edward, still unsure of how to go about this. There were ways of finding people but those ways cost money and those ways weren't necessarily guaranteed to work. "tell ya what Amigo, I can probably help but its gonna cost you five thousand just to look. If I find information on this Toretto, its gonna cost you more. Not sure exactly how much till I dig up the info, cause my services are all about....how do you say it in America? Product on demand? Or something like that. But I may be able to find this guy for you depending on how much you are willing to pay. How much is this information worth to you, Hermano?" 

Aiden stood from the car and walked to his which was still parked way over where he left it. Getting in and starting it up, he pulled it closer to Santos and the gang and shut her off. What he was about to offer wasn't for the eyes of just anyone and it wasn't going to be for Edwards eyes if he didn't have the cash to back it up. What Aiden was about to do, could get him in a whole lot of trouble either with police or whoever this Toretto guy was. The last thing he wanted was a bad name or even worse, drama he couldn't handle. As he stepped out of his vehicle, he pulled out his laptop as well and placed it on the hood of his car. He plugged it into his cell phone so that he could tether the data service and set his computer up so that it was ready should Edward truly want this info he was searching. "Five thousand up front on the hood of the car now just to look. I walk away with that 5K no matter what. If and a big if, I find anything, there will be additional charges based on how hard the info is to find and who this guy is. If we have a deal, place the Five thousand on the hood. If not, I pack up and we end this conversation here."

This guy sounds like someone important, should I know who he is? Or rather yet, why you're looking for him?"

Edward sat there for a moment. Mulling over in his mind about his answer. Not because he was afraid to tell Aiden but because he wanted to word it right so he don’t come off as a creep or a stalker. Edward folds his arms across his well built chest which isn’t noticeable to anyone else. His black hair shifting as he runs his fingers through his own hair. Edward locks eyes with Aiden and made his eye furrow to show his seriousness.


“Important to alot of people. Important perhaps to alot of people. I don’t know a thing about the guy. Nothing. Not what he looks like, what he drives or anything. The only thing I know is he is called The King Of LA. I’m the new King Of LA so to speak. I’m looking for him to race him basically. At the end of the day Dominic Toretto has something I want. His respect.”


Edward watched as Aiden sat down on his car with this new information being processed. Edward actually asked for another Corona getting one from Santos as he twists the cap off and takes a few swigs. He looks around him to make sure that not too many people are in his business with what he is trying to do. He looks as Aiden turns back to look at Santos.

"You ever hear of this Toretto guy?"

"I hear a lot of things about a lot of people and the name sounds familiar, but I can't place it off the top of my head."

"tell ya what Amigo, I can probably help but its gonna cost you five thousand just to look. If I find information on this Toretto, its gonna cost you more. Not sure exactly how much till I dig up the info, cause my services are all about....how do you say it in America? Product on demand? Or something like that. But I may be able to find this guy for you depending on how much you are willing to pay. How much is this information worth to you, Hermano?"

Edward uncrosses his arms from his chest looking down at Aiden as is relaxing on Santo’s car. Edward keeps thinking back to how Hector and Edwin played him back in Los Angeles. He knows this is a dirty grimey underworld which is a smorgist board of some downright play for keeps type of people. The look coming across Edward’s face is a look of anger being displayed but he chuckles shortly afterwards because a thought came to his head. He needs more than just information on Dominic Toretto, he needs information maybe on Edwin, he isn’t too sure he is gonna bother paying for that because he is gonna run into Edwin soon enough and that information he sold Edward on a lie is gonna get him a first class ticket to an ass whipping. Then in his mind he rationalized to himself he’d force Edwin to tell him where Hector is. Edward looks at Aiden and smiles.

“Money’s not an issue. The issue I have is I just pay someone back in Los Angeles named Hector and Edwin for some information which is a name and this number here. Obviously the number doesn’t work so I’m thinking I’m pretty sure I been duped.”


Edward sees Aiden stand up and stroll over to his car, pulling it over to where we were and parked it next to Santo’s ride. Edward is just standing there with a look of intrigue on what Aiden is planning to do. Everyone knows money talks and bullshit walks. Edward is even more curious about if Aiden isn’t worried about being the best racer or mechanic he has to be good at something. Edward begins thinking Aiden could be a good friend or contact to have. He hasn’t decided if he wants to make it personal or keep it business related. At this time sees Aiden turn his car off and open the door, in his hand he carries this high end laptop with him, sitting it on the hood of his own car. He pulled a cord out and put into the end of his smartphone and sat it down next to the laptop on the hood of his car. Edward begins a slow trek over to his car and stands on Aiden’s right side looking at him as Aiden looks up at him. Edward has a curious look on his face and is super interested in what this Aiden guy can do.

"Five thousand up front on the hood of the car now just to look. I walk away with that 5K no matter what. If and a big if, I find anything, there will be additional charges based on how hard the info is to find and who this guy is. If we have a deal, place the Five thousand on the hood. If not, I pack up and we end this conversation here."

Edward nods his head in agreement as if he is pondering his decision. He already got burned for some money but shit it’s only paper. We didn’t come into life with it and we can’t leave life with it. So Edward reaches into his pocket and pulls out five thousand dollars cold hard cash wrapped up in a roll with a tan rubber band. He holds it in his hand for a couple seconds looking at Aiden in his eyes. Searching for any hint of lying. He saw none. He sat the money down on the hood but with his hand on it. He isn’t releasing the money yet.


“Aiden, I’m gonna trust you. I’m gonna tell you two things first. First, I have no idea what you're about to find if you do find anything. Two, I wanna know why he left Los Angeles the way he did. If that information is available I’m curious. Have no worries.”


He removes his hand letting Aiden know the money is his. He then lifts the front of his shirt up showing that he isn’t wearing a wire. Letting Aiden know he isn’t a pig. Letting Aiden know he is just as much of a criminal as anyone else. His six pack white abs showing and he then pulls his shirt back down over his pants.

“Money’s not an issue. The issue I have is I just pay someone back in Los Angeles named Hector and Edwin for some information which is a name and this number here. Obviously the number doesn't work so I’m thinking I’m pretty sure I been duped.”

 

Santos heard the white boy talking about a guy in L.A. named Hector and certainly there could have been a number of them there, but the name Toretto was now ringing a bell when Hector was brought up. He remembered his cousin talking about him in the Racewars Competition a few years back and how this Toretto guy was in some serious shit. If anything were to come about, to give this guy a hand if he ever came across him or if this Toretto guy ever found himself in Spain. If it was his cousin though, this white boy had another thing coming when talking about his cousin like that. Hector didn't go giving false shit out. He didn't know about this Edwin guy though, but he knew his cousin. 

"You talking about Hector Hernandez with the suped up Civic? Gold and black? Well that's what he used to drive. I'm not sure what he drives now, but that's my Cous, white boy. Watch how you talk about him. If he gave you information at a price, its good. You should check this Edwin motherfucker out though. I don't know who he is or if he's running with my cous, but I know Hector don't play shit like that Homie." he said standing up and looking serious.

Santos was not one to play with Family and he sure the hell didn't like people talking like this white boy was. If he wanted to spit game and threaten people, Santos was clearly not one to allow it and this white boy wouldn't be leaving without something to show for it. Aiden looked at Santos, "I got this Santos, chill. The white boy isn't from around here, give him a break. He didn't know Hector was family to you or I'm sure he would have watched what he said."

"Damn straight. He'll catch a break this time, but he better be mindful of who he's talking about."

“Aiden, I’m gonna trust you. I’m gonna tell you two things first. First, I have no idea what you're about to find if you do find anything. Two, I wanna know why he left Los Angeles the way he did. If that information is available I’m curious. Have no worries.”

Aiden watched him lift his shirt showing him his abs that were white as snow, built, but still white. Moving his hand in a way to show him to put that shit down and even expressing it in words, " Hermano, put that shit away and get a tan first. Damn. Rub some oil on that shit and you'd blind someone." Was he trying to show him he didn't have a wire or getting fresh with him. If it was the later, Aiden didn't swing that way. If it was showing him he didn't have a wire, please, he was way too white to be a cop around here and cops of L.A. didn't have any jurisdiction n Spain, so he wasn't worried. Besides, what cop dressed like a Miami vice agent from the seventies? Edward placed the money down on the hood and Aiden picked it up and put in his pocket. 

"Ok, Chico, let's see what I can dig up." Aiden went to work putting in his codes on his laptop and started to hack into several servers around the globe, mostly FBI and ATF servers to see if he'd get a hit on this Dominic character . After several minutes, he did and he read a few things that already had him wondering if he should be doing this. Seemed like this cat had some FBI shit on his head and some Mafia ties. One thing he wanted nothing to do with was Mafia. Seemed like he had a little run in with Braga too and they were no better than the Mafia. After several minutes of reading, he finally spoke up, partially closing his laptop so that this white boy couldn't sneak a peak. "Ok, so I have something for you but I'm not liking what I'm seeing so far. It's gonna cost you cause if I get caught, it's gonna cost me a whole lot more and its probably gonna cost you more than what you're carrying. If you got some bank account info, routing number and account numbers, we can do a wire transfer, but this info I have isn't gonna come cheap." he said with a serious look. This was the test on how important this information was to him, but it was even more important to Aiden not o get tangled up in the business that followed it if he got caught. "And as you trust me, I'm going t have faith that you won't spill a drop of this info to anyone. Not just keep me out of it, but don't say a damn thing or I'll ruin you to the point where you'll wish you were dead. Understand? I'm not playing when it comes to this. I could end up dead for this if it somehow comes back at me."

"You talking about Hector Hernandez with the suped up Civic? Gold and black? Well that's what he used to drive. I'm not sure what he drives now, but that's my Cous, white boy. Watch how you talk about him. If he gave you information at a price, its good. You should check this Edwin motherfucker out though. I don't know who he is or if he's running with my cous, but I know Hector don't play shit like that Homie."

Edward noticed the guy Santos stand up off his car with a serious tone to his voice and his features looked like he meant business. Edward casually slides his right hand behind his back, lifting his shirt up and gripping the .45 with his right hand, tightly to where his knuckles turn white. Edward begins thinking to himself just great how many of these mothafuckas related. Anyway he puts his left hand up to show he didn’t mean to offend Santos. How was he to know they were related or that Hector don’t play that shit. He doesn’t even know him. He just knows he got took for some cash.


“Yeah that’s him. I never met Hector so I couldn’t comment on his personal character. My bad Santos but I met your cousin at Race Wars Chicago. He put me into contact with Edwin. Trust and believe I will have my date with Edwin homie.”

"I got this Santos, chill. The white boy isn't from around here, give him a break. He didn't know Hector was family to you or I'm sure he would have watched what he said."

"Damn straight. He'll catch a break this time, but he better be mindful of who he's talking about."


Edward removes his hand from his gun and returns to his normal demeanor. He was sure glad he really didn’t have to shoot anyone let alone kick someone’s ass. Where he comes from just like maybe Santos, you don’t always walk away from a fight. People die behind that shit nowadays. Edward sighs a sign of relief and is starting to wonder what kind of world did he get himself into. This is nothing like back home that’s for sure. Edward is now holding his shirt up to Aiden though.

" Hermano, put that shit away and get a tan first. Damn. Rub some oil on that shit and you'd blind someone."

“Well Aiden maybe you could show me some tanning spots around here. I’m sure you got butt loads of baby oil on hand.”


Edward laughs as Aiden picks up the money he sat down on the hood. He begins becoming part nervous and part excited because he could be one step closer to knowing more about Dominic Toretto. He looks at Aiden with an excited look upon his face as he watches Aiden flip open the laptop, and begins doing a bunch of typing. Granted none of it really made any sense to Edward. He just stood by watching as he crosses his arms over his chest. Taking a look around his surroundings making sure he isn’t being watched.

"Ok, Chico, let's see what I can dig up."

"Ok, so I have something for you but I'm not liking what I'm seeing so far. It's gonna cost you cause if I get caught, it's gonna cost me a whole lot more and its probably gonna cost you more than what you're carrying. If you got some bank account info, routing number and account numbers, we can do a wire transfer, but this info I have isn't gonna come cheap."

Edward looks at Aiden and can see the worry etched in his features. He keeps his arms crossed studying his features. Edward begins to worry himself because this could become life or death. But Edward looks at it like shit I came this far why stop now. Edward reaches into his pocket with his routing numbers and account numbers in his left hand. He looks at Aiden not giving it to him right away. He smiles at Aiden and takes the bottle of Corona to his lips taking a nice sig of the Spanish delicacy of beer before removing the bottle from his lips and looking at Aiden.


“How much are we talking here?”

"And as you trust me, I'm going to have faith that you won't spill a drop of this info to anyone. Not just keep me out of it, but don't say a damn thing or I'll ruin you to the point where you'll wish you were dead. Understand? I'm not playing when it comes to this. I could end up dead for this if it somehow comes back at me."

Edward looks at Aiden with a concerned look. And the look turns to nonchalant look of please I’m not a rat, a snitch and I wear big boy boxers and man enough to take my lumps with what I am getting into. Shit, I expected something crazy I just had no idea how crazy exactly. Edward smirked at Aiden and reached out the paper with his information on it but won’t let it go until he knows the price this is gonna cost him.


“You can trust me Aiden. Like I said we had a personal friendship forming but this is business. And business is never personal. I wouldn’t dream of screwing up both of our lives.”

Aiden watched Edward pull out a piece of paper with a routing and bank account number on it and hand it over but when Aiden went to grab it, Edward wasn't letting go just yet.

“How much are we talking here?....You can trust me Aiden. Like I said we had a personal friendship forming but this is business. And business is never personal. I wouldn't dream of screwing up both of our lives.”

Aiden hesitated for a moment as he thought back on certain things that had happened in the last half an hour or so. He didn't know this cat from Adam and he was just going to help the white boy out like this? He'd tried to show him his abdomen like he didn't have a wire, he kept reaching behind him like he had something back there, he shows up out of nowhere. He didn't even have a car to race. Everything pointed to either cop or informant. Who was to say that the account he was handing over wasn't traceable or a trap? Aiden let go of the piece of paper and shut his laptop, setting it on the hood of the car. "I trust you amigo, but I need some assurance. I need some form of proof." Aiden spoke curiously. "What I found so far is gonna cost you probably around 50K, but that's just for what I found now. If I keep digging, its gonna cost you more."

Fifty Thousand was the going rate for information like this and even though any cop or informant had this in pocket change, that wasn't the reason he was charging that. If this cat wanted to prove he could be trusted, he'd have to do something for Aiden as well as paying the 50k. "How well can you drive Amigo?" he asked him inquisitively. "If you want to prove you can be trusted, I need you to do something for me." He then looked over to that rental car of his and even though it wasn't fast like some of the cars around here, it would still do the job. It would also give Aiden enough time to place up certain precautions before he started digging any deeper into this Toretto so that things couldn't be traced back to him. "Give me your ID and go to the train station over on Santiago and Guappo. I have a package there that needs to be picked up, but I have some enemies that really don't like me that are watching that package. Grab the package, do what you need to lose the guys and then meet me back here." Aiden spoke with confidence that this white boy could do it, but not without getting his hands a little "dirty" so to speak. "Its in locker 283, with a combination code of 6367. Bring it back, and I'll give you what I have for 35K instead."

Aiden looked to another race that was going to be starting and then back at Edward. Maybe I'll go race another while I wait. We got a deal?"

"I trust you amigo, but I need some assurance. I need some form of proof. What I found so far is gonna cost you probably around 50K, but that's just for what I found now. If I keep digging, its gonna cost you more."

Edward Beatty smiles at Aiden. The price keeps rising he begins to think and he knows that if he wants to get to Dominic Toretto he has to do whatever is necessary. Edward looks around him and over at Santos and then looks back into Aiden’s eyes. The snowman is from away from home but he thinks to himself that what the hell. I got an objective and he knows nothing is free in this world not even breathing. So he crosses his arms across his chest giving Aiden the look that he is gonna entertain what Aiden is saying.

"How well can you drive Amigo?"

Edward laughs as his shoulders jump and down with the laughter. He unfolds his arms and runs his hand through his hair. He then places his hands on his hips while he walks closer to Aiden’s car and leans his hands down onto Aidens hood of his car, looking over to his right into Aiden’s face, they are so close he should be able to smell the Axe cologne that Edward is wearing. Edward isn’t too loud with his words but delivers them with a clear almost cocky like swagger.


“I wasn’t called the King Of The Midwest for no reason. I could drive your own car better than you homie.”

"If you want to prove you can be trusted, I need you to do something for me. Give me your ID and go to the train station over on Santiago and Guappo. I have a package there that needs to be picked up, but I have some enemies that really don't like me that are watching that package. Grab the package, do what you need to lose the guys and then meet me back here."

Edward leans off Aiden’s car hood and gets in his personal space. He smiles at Aiden and obviously recognizes exactly that is a test of loyalty. Edward pulls his gun from his back waist area lying it on the hood of Aiden’s car. And then he reaches into his front pocket of his pants, pulling out his black wallet, opening it up and never taking his eyes off Aiden either. He slides his Identification from his wallet that has “State Of California” on it. He sits it down on Aiden’s hood, grabbing his gun and sliding it back behind his back slowly and to make sure everyone around him knows he’s packing and that he is also trying to be careful with himself.


“I got this. This is gonna be easy. My hands been dirty for years.”

"Its in locker 283, with a combination code of 6367. Bring it back, and I'll give you what I have for 35K instead. Maybe I'll go race another while I wait. We got a deal?"

Edward reaches his hand out to Aiden. Extending his hand to shake Aiden’s. Edward lets go and begins to walk to his rental car parked a few steps away. He reaches the rental, opening the door and looking back at Aiden before sitting down into his driver seat and closing the door. He reaches behind him pulling out the gun and sitting it on the seat next to him. Edward runs his hands through his hair as he places the key into the engine firing up the rental’s engine. This piece of crap I gotta outmaneuver mothafuckas. Well, I did open my big mouth. Time to back it up. He pulls the stick down into drive and pulls off speeding down the street, moving over into the far lane away from the left side of the sidewalk, he smirked at himself because he wants to show these Spain drivers down here he knows his shit. He jams the stick up into first gear and grabs the emergency brake and pulling it while placing his foot down on the gas, spinning his wheel lightly to the right making his rental car careen to the the right in a slick fluid motion he glides sideways around the corner showing off his drifting skills to everyone down there as he disappears around the corner, he releases the brake and straightens his car out, laughing as he maneuvers the car back into the far side lane. He thinks about what he is about to get himself into and smiles at the idea that he is getting closer to his goals. He looks down at his watch, it's only 1:30 AM in the morning, his flight isn't leaving till 5PM tomorrow night. He gots a long time to get settled here. He pulls out his cellphone and pulls up his GPS tracker. He doesn’t have a damn clue where this place is. He speaks into his cellphone via voice recognition software.


“Train station near Santiago and Guappo.”


The phone makes a beep noise as he comes to a red light. He pumps the brakes as the car comes to a soft stop. It’s a ghost town right now. If people ain’t sleeping they are over at that meetup I guess of the underworld of racing. The phone beeps again as a voice comes back speaking in a robotic female tone.


“You are ten minutes away. Do you want me to voice directions?”


“No.”


“Very well, I am showing you directions here.”


Edward picks up the phone to read the directions. He smiles as it’s just basically a straight shot. He puts the phone down on the passenger seat next to his gun. The light turns green as he give the gas pedal a light push making it go the speed limit of “35” MPH. He is looking around, analyzing landmarks and making mental notes of the getaway route. Can’t bring heat back to Aiden or anyone else. Let alone he can’t afford to get caught. Getting arrested in another country on a visa is bad business. You could be deported AFTER serving your time or never be allowed back in this country. He already gots money tied up here. He can’t lose. And no telling just how important that package is to Aiden. Let alone what kind of person he is even dealing with now that he thinks about it. Them Spanish people can be pretty crazy. The phone beeps again as the female voice pipes up again.


“You have reached your destination.”


Edward shuts off his headlights pulling the car to a stop. He shuts the engine off. He surveys the scene. He can see a group of maybe about three guys outside. They are huddled in a circle around the entrance to the train station. No one else is walking around. It’s a ghost town. Edward opens the glove box putting his cellphone in the glove box and then pulling out some black gloves from the glove box. He slides the black gloves on. Closing the glove box back slowly. He reaches over into the passenger seat grabbing his .45 and clicking the safely off on the right side of the nickel plated weapon. He cocks the slide back placing a bullet into the chamber. He then slides the gun under the front of his shirt back into the waist of his pants. His blue eyes begin watching the three spanish men. The one in the front was the bigger of the three. About six foot five, 300 pounds. It was sloppy built weight though, they were all wearing green bandanas in the classic Tupac way, folded down covering the back of their head and tied into a knot in front. The other two were smaller men, maybe about five foot eight and no more than 200 pounds flat. They are all laughing and Edward can see weapons protruding from their clothing. He looks across from him and notices a alley leading to the back of the train station. Edward slowly opens his driver door and steps out. He slows the door quietly behind him, leaving the door unlocked so the getaway is faster. He walks around to his trunk sliding the key in the trunk lock and twisting the key and pulling up the trunk. Looking into the trunk we see a spare tire, a four way lug nut wrench and then a crowbar. He grabs the crowbar, sliding it into the inside of his pants to conceal it. He shuts the trunk hood and walks toward the alley quickly, almost like a brisk job. Good, the three goons didn’t notice him. The alley was dark, smelling like human piss and feces. There was a couple dumpsters and some drain pipes going up to the roof. Edward looks around thinking I don’t need to get to the roof, I just need inside. He notices a side door with no handle on it. He looks down the alley and doesn’t notice a soul. He slides the crowbar out his pants, grabbing the end very tight and jamming the flat part of the bar into the door and he feels it latch onto the locks. He smiles as he pulls the crowbar toward his body yanking on the door lock, they don’t do nothing on the first tug. Nor the second tug but the third tug busted the door frame locks and it sorta echoed throughout the alley. No alarms sounded as he held the door open. He walked inside sitting the crowbar down into a trashcan near the exit. Since he is wearing gloves there are no traces of fingerprints. He looks around as this appears to be a loading dock area or delivery side door entrance. The singular hanging lights from the ceiling are spread out by a couple feet. Edward smiles and sees a map on the wall which is showing the routes of the building and exits in case of a fire. He smiles because a thought popped into his head. He rolled his finger along the map, he can see where the locker room area is kept. Just straight head, turn left, turn right and straight out it leads into the lobby where the lockers are.


“Let’s go.”

Aiden shook Edwards hand and watched him get into his rental. As the car pulled off,He picked up Edwards ID and looked at the name. Edward Beatty, age 29, Current address, current state, licence is current, looked like the proper drivers licence number. Everything looked solid, even the hidden hologram in the plastic but it didn't mean shit. Opening his laptop again, he took the social security number off the licence and punched it into his computer and brought up all of Edward's information. It even had his lock up in Ohio listed as three years for receiving stolen property, theft, and illegal car modifications. It looked like Cincinnati was doing a long investigation on Edward, but Aiden wondered what for exactly. They didn't just go out looking at random people for no reason. Edward must have done something to deserve the investigation. He dug a little deeper but couldn't find anything that stood out. The only thing that stood out was an empty bank account in his name which was a red flag to him but Aiden wasn't stupid. He had to of been putting money into another account that was safer than his own. The question was who? Maybe a close friend, relative, like a mother or father, even a brother perhaps? Or was he going by another name other than what was on his DL? As he searched some more he found it. The reason Edward was investigated. He had to tap into some higher resources, but he found it in the FBI data base. Seems like this white boy liked his high end imported auto parts and was boosting cars. Not out of the norm or anything for Aiden to be alerted about, but enough for him to still be glad he did this white boy a background check. Keeping the bank account info, his social security number and other info as a safe point in case this pale skin ratted him out. Aiden wondered what the authorities would think if Edwards empty account miraculously showed up with a million dollars or more from out of no where. And then knowing where he was going and that he might want to return some day, that would make things difficult, maybe even more prison time. Aiden might even hack into the Prison's records and change a little three year prison term to 25 years to life. Maybe frame him for a murder he didn't commit. Better yet, he could go into the records and change it now so that it looked like Edward escaped, but then again, plenty of witnesses already had him walking out the doors a free man. The framing part would do the trick though and white boy would be saying good night to Bubba for a very long time.

Aiden climbed off the car hood and set his laptop down to go get another beer, but in the process, he stopped by Santos. "Call your cous and ask him about this white boy. See what he says about this white boy. I can't seem to find a damn thing on him that leads him to being a cop, but you never know."

"No problem." Santos replied and quickly got on the phone. Being that it was 1:30 in the AM in Spain, it was only around 6 in L.A. The phone rang and Hector finally answered. "Hector, its your Cous man, I got a white boy here asking about some guy Toretto. He for real?"[/color]

"Are you for real, Cous? That white boy actually made it to.....wait....Spain? I told that mothafucker Monaco. What's he doin by you? We talkin about the same scarecrow, right?"

"Tall Puta with jet black hair, a fucking retarded looking face and likes to run his boca He said he got laid over before he could make it to Monaco. Said he's looking to race this Toretto mothafucker, so he can claim some kind of title like its the World wrestling fucking federation or somethin."

"Yeah, that sounds like my scarecrow. What's he gotten himself into?"

"Nothin just yet fool, but he keeps running that mouth and he's gonna catch him a Spanish ass whoopin, but I got a friend that wants to know if he can be trusted or if he's dirty."

"Oh...he's dirty, but not cop dirty. Not that I could tell. Honestly Cous, We all laughed at him. We think he's harmless and sent him on this wild goose chase. Not that we lied or anything, but we didn't have all the info to give him and gave him what we had. He ain't ever gonna find Toretto. Send that white boy home." Hector said over the phone with a chuckle. "I don't want that shit comin' to me if Toretto finds out I sold him a little something to find him. we didn't think he'd make it this far."

"A'ight Cous. but he ain't no cop?"

"Nah, man. He's too stupid to be a cop and just dirty enough to know what he's doing. He's good as far as I can tell."

The long winding hallway is where he is strolling. He puts some pep in his step though, wanna get in and get out without making alot of hoopla. The paint is peeling off on the walls near the high end parts of the ceiling. He comes to a corner, hangs that first right as he picks up his pace into a run like jog, he hangs another right and comes to this door, white and has a gold door handle. He grabs the door handle, he slowly pulls it open and and doesn’t peek out but tries to see who is out there without giving away his location. Nobody. No one is around. Edward closes the door back and breathes hard. This is weird he begin to think, why isn’t there a soul here. He looks down at his watch, 2:00 AM. Nobody is getting on a train or not even a guard? Something fishy about that. He grabs the door handle again and pulls it open, quickly sliding out the door shutting it back and moving forward quickly with three steps ducking down by some lockers. He looks at the lockers directly behind him, 128. Damn! That’s not it. He peeks around the corner, the door to the outside is within view of where he is at! He got a good look at the big man’s face. Ugly dude. Grubby fingers and just disgusting looking. He chuckles at the thought of this guy and what his women must look like. Thank god, I don’t have that problem. The serious look returns to his face, as he stands up and starts combing down the lockers looking for 238, AH!


“238. That was easy.”


He grabs the lock that is attached to the metal locker door, he looks down at the numbers, scrolling up to the number six, he moves his finger to the next slot, scrolling down to the number three. He moves to the next number slot and looks up to make sure no one is coming. He has to be fast, I’m sure these guys are not just gonna stand out there all night. He scrolls the digit lock back up to the number six, almost there he is thinking. It’s starting to get hot in there, as sweat begins beading up along his forehead, his finger rolls the number dial upward to the number seven. Click! He unlatches the lock and opens the metal door. Inside was a brown box, no bigger than a football. It was square in design. Edward reached into the locker pulling it out, he holds it up and shakes it alittle big. Whatever it is, it appears to be solid. It’s lightweight nonetheless and then he places his ear to it. It’s not making any noise. He tucks the box under his right arm, quickly shutting the door and relocking the lock back into the thing, as he hears the outside door open! His ears perk up as his eyes get alittle big, he begins looking around as he goes away from the sound of footsteps as he quickly hides behind the locker walls at the end of the row. He leans against it, and stills his breathing. He slowly reaches into his front part of his pants pulling the gun out.


“Hey amigo, we need to see if that brown son of a bitch Aiden tried to get that package!”


“I know, your fat ass kept us outside talking about that women damn.”


“Vato! It’s not here!”


Edward begins to panic. As he tries to slip out the other side of the locker rows and come out the other side, he walks quickly to the door as he opens it! WIZZ! A bullet flew past him missing him by a couple inches and shatters the glass! Edward barrels out the door in a full sprint toward the street, he is carrying the package tightly as he slides over top of the car hood in front of him sliding out on the other side and onto the ground. He sits the package down as he puts the gun up over the hood and returns fire, the bullet he shot out of his gun whizzed thru the glass door shattering it, finally alarms start going off. The bullet traveled and hit the big man in the chest dropping him. Edward grabs the package and sits up dumping bullets at the remaining men who are ducking behind the lockers, bullets bouncing off the metal and ricocheting throughout the inside of the train station. Edward starts a full on sprint down the street as the two gang members come rushing out of the train station.



“Shit…”



His gun chamber is shifted back because he ran out of bullets, he keeps the magazine instead because it can give away who he is. He didn’t have another clip on him cause he wasn’t anticipating having to fire that many bullets. He made a mental note to keep an extra clip on him from now on, it’s not like this back home in Ohio either. The two men are running down the street firing their guns at him. The bullets are whizzing by as down the street behind them, two Barcelona cop cars come bending the corner. Edward’s eyes got big at the sight of the cops, but Edward isn’t going to go to jail tonight, at least that is his thought process. The two thugs turn to see the cops rushing toward them, about a quarter mile away from them, The two thugs hit the alley Edward had used to get into the building. The sirens are blaring loud and clear, one cop car bends that corner, chasing them down the alley. The two cars are 2014 Dodge Chargers! Edward reaches his car door and opens it quickly, jumping in and throwing the package in the back seat. He quickly places the keys in the ignition, as the cop loudspeaker pipes up.


“Deje de donde usted está!”


The cop is rushing toward him full speed, Edward turns the car on, slamming the stick into reverse, and pressing his foot on the gas, Edward starts picking up speed driving backwards as he isn’t even looking behind him, just at the rearview mirror. The cop car is picking up speed, he is nearing him as Edward notices the street to his right, he spins the wheel to the right as he clutches the emergency break and placing his foot on the brake pedal, Edward manages to drift his car backwards into that right turn as the cop is going to fast he passes the street up entirely, Edward laughs as he yanks the emergency brake back down and lets go of the brake pedal allowing his car to do a full 360 hitting the break again and jamming the gear into second gear as he quickly straightens the car out and begins picking up speed. The cop car has by now made a u-turn and has hit the corner as two more Dodge Chargers join the fray! Edward looks in his rearview mirror as he is speeding down the street, blowing red lights but out of nowhere from a side street a cop car is seen pulling out up ahead of him and driving right towards him! Lights wailing as he is driving straight toward Edward! Edward lines the car up with the direction of the cop car rushing toward him, the cop looks at him like he is crazy as the cop cars from behind him are closing in, he punches it into third gear, Edward notices a quick sharp left and hits the brakes and spinning the wheel left as he releases the brake hitting the left forcing the cop car that was in front of him to try and brake as he spins the wheel making his own cop car fish tail, the cops that were behind Edward all ram the car because they had no time to stop! The front car dents in the fish tailed cars driver door, as the cop car to the left clips the back end flipping frontwards over the car and landing on it’s hood! The other car tried to move to the left and crashed the front end of his car into a brick wall!


“Now that’s how you make an entrance to Spain! WHOOO HOO!!”


Edward is smacking his steering wheel as he hooks the next left and lines back up with the same street that the train station was on. He drives down the street and is looking around, he parks the car quickly. Reaching into the back seat grabbing the package and opening the car door, stepping out. He quickly starts walking away as up the street more cop cars come rushing down his way, but drive past him. They never saw what he looked like. He stopped near an open sewer on the curb. He threw the rental car keys down the sewer. He threw the gloves down the sewer, and then he empty the spent magazine from his .45 and threw that down the sewer as well. He slides the .45 back into his pants and starts walking down the street back toward where the street racers were.