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The gleaming showroom buzzed with the low hum of excited chatter, punctuated by the occasional roar of an engine as another luxury car rolled onto the display stage. Tej, with his keen eye for detail, was already mentally stripping down each vehicle to its frame, envisioning the customizations they would need for their next heist. 

Hobbs, ever the pragmatist, was less impressed. He flipped through the glossy brochure in his hand, his brow furrowing deeper with every exorbitant price tag he saw. "At these prices," he grumbled, "these cars better be made of gold."

Their banter was interrupted by a sharply dressed management type who sauntered up to them, eyeing their casual attire with thinly veiled disdain. "Gentlemen," he sneered, "this is a high-class event. Perhaps you're lost?"

Before Tej could retort, a voice chimed in from the sidelines. A man who had been standing nearby stepped forward, his demeanor calm but authoritative. "I believe you're the one who's lost," he said to the manager with a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "These gentlemen are exactly where they need to be."

The manager bristled but, sensing he was outmatched, retreated without another word.

The newcomer turned to Tej and Hobbs and extended a hand. "Name's Raj," he said with a genuine smile. "First time at one of these auctions."

As the camera zooms out to a third-person perspective, we see Raj engaging in friendly conversation with Tej and Hobbs. He admits he's looking for advice on which car to bid on.

Tej chuckled and shook his head. "Why would I help my competitor?" he teased.

Despite the playful jab, they all turned their attention back to the cars as the auctioneer took the stage.

As the bidding war began, Raj played his hand well and emerged victorious with a sleek Dodge Charger. With a nod of respect and a promise to meet again under different circumstances, Raj bid farewell to Tej and Hobbs.

The ford mustang fastback engine growled as it rolled into the dimly lit garage, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. Raj stepped out with a swagger, his eyes finding Alina's figure leaning against a workbench.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, gesturing to the car with a proud tilt of his head.

Alina's lips curled into an approving smile. "Impressive," she admitted. "But not as impressive as the lengths you're willing to go for me."

Raj closed the distance between them in two strides, his finger silencing her thanks. "No need for that," he murmured, his hand finding her waist and pulling her close. His voice dropped to a flirtatious whisper, "I'm all about going the distance."

Flustered, Alina stepped back, regaining her composure. "Focus, Raj. How do we approach Shaw now?"

Raj's eyes hardened with determination. "We monitor Dom and his crew. They'll lead us right to him. That's when we strike."

Alina's gaze lingered on him, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "What a villain you are," she teased before turning away, her hips swaying provocatively as she headed toward the adjoining room.

Raj watched her go, a slow grin spreading across his face before he followed her into the shadows, the garage door closing behind them with a soft thud.

---

The Union Jack flapped proudly in the wind, a stark contrast to the roaring engines lined up at the starting point. Dom, in his Dodge Charger Daytona, revved the engine, a rumbling purr that sent shivers down Letty's spine. Even with amnesia, the sound was a familiar comfort. She gripped the wheel of her cherry red 1973 Jensen Interceptor, the classic lines contrasting beautifully with the modern muscle of Dom's car.

Beside them, a gleaming Ford Mustang Fastback, its paint a deep, menacing blue, rumbled to life. A figure in a Deadpool mask – red and black with a wide, manic grin – leaned out the window. "Hey, can I join?" the voice crackled through the speaker system, distorted and laced with amusement.

Dom, a smirk playing on his lips, replied, "It's a free country, man. Do what you want to do."

A young woman with fiery red hair materialized between the cars, a clipboard clutched in her hand. In a voice steely with practiced authority, she announced, "Alright racers, you know the drill. one lap around the city, no cops, and the first one to smash through that finish line wins. Ready... Set... Go!"

The flag dropped, and the three cars lurched forward. Letty, fuelled by a primal urge to win and a desire to impress Dom, slammed on the gas. The Interceptor surged ahead, the powerful engine a symphony in her ears. the car rocketing forward in a burst of speed, leaving Dom and the masked driver in her wake.

They tore through London's labyrinthine streets, weaving through traffic, tires screeching in protest. Letty pushed the Interceptor to its limits, the familiar curves and straights a blur. But the roar of the Mustang behind her was getting closer. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see the Deadpool mask staring back, a silent challenge.

The final strech. Letty could taste victory, the finish line tantalizingly close. But then, with a surge of power, the Mustang rocketed past. The driver, whoever it was, displayed a masterful control, taking corners with a precision that rivaled Dom's.

Disbelief flickered across Letty's face, but it was quickly replaced by a fierce determination. This wasn't over.

Dom, ever the strategist, had been hanging back, analyzing his opponents. Now, seeing the Mustang take the lead, he slammed the pedal down. The Charger roared to life, a panther unleashed. He drifted through corners, shaving off seconds with each maneuver.

The crowd lining the streets roared as the three cars became a blur of color against the grey London backdrop. The finish line loomed large. The Mustang was mere inches ahead, the driver reaching out a hand...

Dom, in a final, breathtaking display of driving skill, swerved his Charger, nudging the Mustang aside by a hair's breadth. The black car crossed the finish line first, a shower of confetti erupting as the crowd erupted in cheers.

Letty, pulling in a close second, a grin splitting her face, watched as Dom climbed out of the Charger, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Maybe amnesia wasn't so bad after all. It felt good to be back in the game, the adrenaline coursing through her veins a familiar thrill. In that moment, surrounded by the roar of the crowd and the smell of burning rubber, she felt a spark of something ignite within her. A memory, perhaps, or maybe just the start of a new chapter.

Dom's voice was a low rumble by Letty's ear, tracing the smooth line of the scar that marred the perfection of her cheek. "Boyle heights" he murmured, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin ever so lightly. "You were lucky. Could've been a lot worse."

Letty leaned into his touch, a strange mix of fear and desire stirring within her. She couldn't remember the incident, but Dom's words brought a phantom ache to the scarred area.

Their moment was shattered by a loud, obnoxious slurp. In the deserted parking lot, bathed in the harsh glow of a solitary streetlamp, stood the figure they had just raced – the masked driver. Only now, he was cradling a giant bucket of popcorn, munching with gusto.

Seeing them together, the figure, still sporting the Deadpool mask, stopped mid-chew, popcorn kernels raining down from his open mouth. He raised a hand, wagging his finger playfully. "Aww, look at you two! Didn't know you were an item, Dom." He then threw his hands in the air in mock surprise. "Guess that explains the fancy driving, wanting to impress the lady, huh?"

Letty's face flushed. This masked stranger, with his annoying commentary, was breaking the spell Dom had woven. She mumbled an excuse, "I, uh, need to get going," and retreated into the Interceptor, peeling out with a frustrated screech of tires.

Dom watched her leave, a frown replacing his earlier amusement. He turned to the masked figure, his voice laced with irritation. "Who the hell are you?"

The popcorn-munching stopped. The figure chuckled, a distorted sound through the mask. "You can call me Unknown. Surprised you don't recognize me, Dom."

Dom narrowed his eyes. "First time I've seen you," he retorted.

The figure tilted his head, a playful glint in the eye holes of the mask. "Oh, come on now. Remember that little joyride in bmw? You were chasing Shaw, remember? I was the one on the bike, weaving through traffic like a maniac."

Dom's frown deepened. The name Shaw sent a jolt through him. It wasn't a name he liked to remember.

Suddenly, the sound of a sleek engine sliced through the night air. An Aston Martin, gleaming like a silver predator, pulled into the parking lot. Out stepped Deckard Shaw, his face a mask of cold fury.

"Dom," he growled, the word laced with menace. "you are getting in my crew way."

Shaw's gaze flickered to the masked figure, his confusion evident. "And who might you be?"

The figure, with a theatrical sigh, ripped off the Deadpool mask, revealing another mask face . "Maybe this mask is hindering my charm," he said. "The name's Nobody. Apparently, no one remembers me."

Shaw's confusion melted into recognition. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Nobody? As in the guy on bike who nearly got me killed in that chase?"

Nobody, as he called himself, grinned, unfazed by Shaw's hostility. "The very same. And I'm here for a little business deal, Shaw. That little chip you 'acquired' from the Russian container? Someone wants it back."

Shaw scoffed. "No chance. I don't work for anyone."

A red dot materialized on Shaw's chest, emanating from a sniper. He smirked. "Looks like you don't have much choice, do you?" 

a dot appear on mask guy . nobody "well look like you do have a choice "

Before Dom could react, another red dot appeared on his own chestby a sniper, followed by a second one on Shaw's, this originating from an unseen source behind them. Trapped, all three men exchanged a look – Dom, annoyed, Shaw, furious, and Nobody, simply amused.

"Seems like a tactical retreat is in order, wouldn't you say?" Nobody offered, his voice dripping with mock sincerity.

With no other choice, Dom and Shaw, former enemies united by an unseen threat, retreated into the night, the red dots a constant reminder of the danger that awaited them.