Reborn in America’s Anti-Terror Unit

Nighttime, inside an indoor extreme sports training facility.

This facility belonged to Letty—Dom's sexy girlfriend. Tonight, she had closed up shop early to prepare a surprise for Dom.

Roman had already edited the video footage. It was explosive. Paired with background music, it looked no less impressive than a big-budget promotional ad.

Don't be fooled by his role as a mechanic—this was Hollywood's home turf. Here, you couldn't underestimate anyone. That unassuming person you passed on the street might just be the next big star—or a major force behind the scenes.

Owen was there too, helping Dom's friends prepare. He even personally drove to a nearby supermarket to pick up a truckload of booze. Though he hadn't known Dom for very long—Carlos had introduced them during that prisoner transport heist—the two had grown close.

Dom was loyal and had helped him more than once. Owen had returned the favor a few times as well. Over time, they realized they got along well.

Still, Owen didn't dare come around too often. Dom's sister, Mia, seemed to have a thing for him. She was always hovering close.

But Owen already had Monica. Dom might not have said anything, but if Owen so much as flirted with Mia, Dom would definitely blow up—he might even break Owen's legs on the spot. And truthfully, Owen didn't want to be a scumbag either.

Friends from all over the extreme sports world were showing up one by one. Everyone had heard about Dom's crazy stunt that day.

He'd conquered the 265-meter Karachisov Bridge and wrecked that idiot senator's beloved car in the process. Just hearing about it was cathartic. This was exactly the kind of thing their crowd lived for.

Once everything was ready, the doors were shut, and the lights turned off. Someone on the inside had already tipped them off that Dom was on his way. He had no clue about the surprise waiting for him.

The room was quiet. Outside, the sound of a motorcycle engine rumbled, then died down. Footsteps approached the door.

It wasn't locked. Probably wondering why the door was open but the lights were off, Dom hesitated for a moment at the threshold. Then he stepped inside.

As soon as he walked past the entrance and into the main hall, the lights flashed on all at once.

"Surprise!!!"

Dom jumped, startled by the lights and booming music, then broke into a grin. All around him were friends—hugging, cheering, celebrating.

Owen, having been part of the event himself, didn't rush forward to crowd around. He waited until the hype died down a little, then raised a glass of martini and clinked it with Dom's.

The facility was already getting wild. People were skating and rollerblading—pure extreme sports energy.

Dom was on cloud nine. At the moment, he was surrounded by flirtatious girls, grinning ear to ear. Letty wasn't mad—she just stood nearby watching with a distant smile.

Of course, Dom knew when to rein it in. Sensing the death glare from Letty, he quickly turned down the advances of the women around him, setting them free to chase after other men at the party.

"Just this afternoon, I got several calls from car shops," Letty said with a smirk after the groupies backed off. "If you refer customers to buy parts from them, they'll give you the best kickbacks.

Also, there's an outdoor gear store that wants to sponsor your future BASE jumping projects—on the condition that you use their parachutes and give their brand some screen time in your videos…"

Letty always handled these things for Dom—she was practically his manager.

Owen stood nearby, speechless with amazement.

Dom was a legend in their world—not just in L.A., but across the U.S. and even internationally. He was huge on YouTube.

People were obsessed with the crazy challenges he completed.

His signature moves were imitated, the car parts he used became bestsellers, and even the outdoor gear he wore became trendy among fans.

He might not have been in showbiz, but he was already a star. No wonder so many brands wanted him as their ambassador.

But Letty wasn't done. With her eyes twinkling, she added, "One more thing—a game company reached out. They want to base an action-adventure game on you. They've even got a name: Fast & Furious…"

Dom looked pleased but still shook his head. "Turn them all down. I'm not getting involved with that kind of circus. Babe, are we short on money or something? This place should be making enough every day to cover your expenses."

"Of course," Letty said. "I just wanted you to know. I already turned them all down for you."

"You're the best, babe. You know me."

Dom pulled her into a kiss, and just as things were about to heat up, the lights in the training center suddenly cut out with a loud pop, followed by the sound of shattering glass. All the windows were smashed from outside.

Men in black tactical gear stormed in, and the front door was violently kicked open.

Screams filled the facility as people scattered—only to be shoved back by the intruding SWAT-like team.

The scene turned chaotic under the beam of their flashlights.

Then the lights came back on, revealing that they were completely surrounded. Dom was in the middle of a circle of masked men, four rifles trained directly on him.

Mia and Letty, who had been on the dance floor, were both restrained by officers, hands on their heads. Roman, who had been acting as the DJ, didn't fare any better—he was being zip-tied by another officer. Owen was also being held tightly by two masked men.

"Party's over. All non-targets, leave—now!"

Apparently, these masked men were only interested in a few specific people. They didn't even question the other partygoers, just herded them out. The once-lively celebration was cleared out in minutes.

On a side wall, Roman's edited video was still playing on loop. Paired with the music, it had looked badass—now, it just felt awkward.

Owen and the others were all face-down on the floor, hands behind their heads.

He struggled to raise his head, trying to figure out which department had come for them. He was hoping to see a familiar face—maybe someone who could cut him some slack—but all of them wore black hoods and had no SWAT markings.

"This isn't necessary. I just stole a car, that's all…"

Dom hadn't even finished his sentence when the lead masked agent shot him with a tranquilizer dart. Dom flinched, managed to yank out the dart, and then collapsed into unconsciousness.

…

An hour later, Owen walked out of the building still puzzled.

NSA? Why the NSA?

He had assumed it was the police. But to his surprise, it had been the National Security Agency.

Owen was confused. Whether it was illegal BASE jumping, car theft, or intentional destruction of property—those were police matters. What did any of that have to do with the NSA?

Completely baffled, Owen left the NSA building. They hadn't said a word when they released him—probably because they'd verified his CTU identity and let him go immediately.

It was an unspoken rule among the big federal agencies—unless it was something major, they didn't make things difficult for each other's members. After all, they were all government dogs and powerful agencies to boot. Cooperation was inevitable.

It also suggested this wasn't anything too serious. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Mia and Letty also walked out—everyone except Dom.

Letty and the others didn't seem particularly bothered. They were used to visits to police stations. The NSA was new, sure, but they figured Dom would be out soon too. No one waited around—they just headed home separately.

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