Guldrin’s Gluttony: Family Bound by Speed & Food

They parked under a flickering streetlight, just out of sight from Tran's garage. The three of them, Dom, Vince, and Brian, all climbed out of their car and glanced around. The air was thick with tension as Dom gestured for them to move quietly, leading them down a back alley. Brian tried to stay composed, but the reality of what they were about to do weighed heavily on him. He could feel Dom's suspicion lingering, and he knew he'd need to play his cards carefully tonight.

Dom crouched behind a row of crates, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the area. Tran's garage was just ahead, dimly lit, with only a few lights casting shadows across the lot. The scent of oil and rubber hung in the air, familiar but slightly foreboding in this context.

"Listen," Dom whispered, his tone low and commanding, "we're not here to cause trouble. We're just taking a look, same as you were doing back at our place. You keep an eye out, and Vince and I will handle the door."

Brian nodded, suppressing the urge to fidget as he adjusted his stance, eyes scanning the darkened streets around them. He could tell Vince wasn't thrilled with the arrangement; the guy still cast distrustful glances his way, his grip tight on the crowbar he carried, as if itching for an excuse to use it.

Vince and Dom moved in unison, slipping up to the side of Tran's garage. Dom gave Vince a nod, and with a quick motion, Vince wedged the crowbar into the window frame, popped it open, and slipped inside. Once inside, Vince found the door, he eased it open, allowing them to slip into the dark interior. Brian followed, feeling a surge of adrenaline as he glanced around the spacious garage, now cast in shadows by the soft glow of the emergency lights.

The place was immaculate, every tool and part was organized with precision. It was clear that Tran ran a tight operation. Rows of high-performance parts lined the walls, and several sleek cars were parked in the middle of the garage, each one gleaming even in the low light. One car in particular caught Dom's attention, a pristine black Honda S2000, its modified exterior hinting at the power lurking beneath its hood.

"Damn," Vince muttered, his voice barely a whisper as he eyed the cars in the garage with equal parts admiration and disdain. "They've got some serious hardware here."

Dom's eyes narrowed, taking in the setup with a calculating gaze. "Looks like Tran's been upgrading. He's not playing around." His gaze shifted, noting a large set of cabinets labeled with specific engine components, suspension upgrades, and an impressive selection of NOS canisters. 

Vince examined the car closer and shined a flashlight, illuminating the issue, "Hey, Dom, their engines are missing…" Dom looked at the cars and agreed, "Sure are, wonder where they are…"

As Dom and Vince continued to examine the cars, Brian's attention was drawn to a set of documents spread out on a nearby workbench. He hesitated, his pulse racing as he leaned in to get a better look. The papers appeared to be schematics and tuning reports, but as he flipped through them, he realized there were also schedules, lists of parts on order, and detailed notes on recent modifications.

"What's that?" Dom's voice cut through the silence, startling Brian slightly. He looked up, quickly clearing his throat.

"Uh, just some… notes," Brian replied, trying to keep his tone casual. He handed the papers to Dom, who flipped through them, his brow furrowing as he took in the meticulous details.

Dom's eyes darkened as he studied the documents. "Tran's prepping for something big. He's got enough NOS here to blow out half the cars in the city." While Dom was looking over the documents, Brian checked the rest of the garage and saw some DVD players. He made a mental note to inform his superiors to check those when they raid Tran tomorrow.

Vince let out a low whistle. "So he's not just showin' off. He's gearing up for something serious. Maybe that race he mentioned to you, Dom? Think he is trying to take over the scene?"

Dom grunted in acknowledgment, still lost in thought as he continued scanning the documents. "It's possible. If he's setting up for a big race or deal, we need to know about it. Tran's not the type to make idle threats. Though, if he thinks he can beat me with upgraded parts, he has another thing coming."

Just as Dom was about to say more, the faint sound of motorcycle engines echoed from outside. The three of them froze, exchanging quick glances as they silently communicated their options. Vince shot Brian a glare that clearly communicated his mistrust, but there was no time for arguments.

"We need to move," Dom whispered urgently, gesturing toward a space in the back. They slipped into the hidden section of the garage, pressing themselves against the wall just as the garage door creaked open. Through a narrow crack, they could see several figures entering the garage, their engine dying out and voices low as they exchanged words in harsh tones.

Tran entered first, flanked by his cousin Lance and another man, rough and ready, with a jagged scar down his cheek. Of course, they had their other people flanking them, looking intense, heads low, exchanging quiet but firm words as they made their way across the garage. Then, trailing behind, came Ted, Tran's parts supplier, looking nervous and slightly disheveled.

Dom, Vince, and Brian barely dared to breathe, hidden behind a few cars on the far side of the garage. They watched as Tran moved with purpose, scanning the space with hawk-like eyes, almost as if he sensed he was being watched. Lance shoved Ted forward, and the three stopped near a large workbench in the center of the garage, surrounded by the four cars with no engines.

"Ted, Ted, Ted… Do you see anything wrong here, Ted?" Tran asked, and Ted shook his head, "No." Tran grabbed his head and shoved him into the empty engine bay, "We got no engines, Ted! No engines!"

"Where are they, Ted?" Tran's voice was cold, and controlled, with an edge that made Brian's stomach tighten. He sounded more ruthless than Brian had expected. This wasn't just about a transaction; there was something deeply personal in the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Ted stammered, hands trembling as he tried to explain. "I... I told you, Johnny, I'm working on it! Those SR20 engines, they're rare. Hard to get my hands on short notice."

Tran raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Funny. That's not what you said a week ago." He stepped closer to Ted, his expression unreadable but menacing. "A week ago, you promised me four SR20s, all prepped and ready. Race Wars is coming up fast. My Honda's got the tune, but without those engines, they are scrap metal and, my team's dead in the water."

Lance sneered, crossing his arms as he gave Ted a hard look. "You think you can screw with us, huh? Tran's been patient, but I'm not feeling as generous. Maybe we can help you remember where you put those engines."

Ted paled, shaking his head frantically. "I swear, I didn't-"

Tran cut him off, grabbed a cloth from the toolbox, and smirked, "What do you think, what are you feeling Lance; 40 weight, 50 weight?"

Lance, still aiming his pistol at Ted's head, answered without taking his eye off Ted, "40 weight sounds nice." Before Ted could react, Lance knocked Ted to the ground.

Tran didn't stop him. Instead, he gestured to Lance with an almost casual flick of his hand. "Hand it here." Lance did so and gave him the nozzle, prepared to pump the oil once Tran shoved the cloth into Ted's mouth and positioned the nozzle above his mouth. 

Brian, watching from the shadows, clenched his fists. Dom noticed and shook his head, signaling to keep quiet. They were only here to gather intel, not to start a brawl. But Dom's face was set in stone, his jaw tight, eyes dark and calculating as he assessed the situation. Vince didn't seem to care, both Dom and Vince were sporting pistols; Dom had a Smith & Wesson Model 19 Nickel Snubnose revolver​​, and Vince held a Beretta 92FS Inox.

Ted's eyes widened, his breath coming fast as he took a step back. "Please, Johnny, I just—"

Without warning, Lance began to pump the lever as Tran held the nozzle over Ted's face, letting the black, bitter liquid trickle out of it in a controlled stream.

Ted struggled, twisting his head away, but Tran held him steady. "Open up," he taunted. "You're gonna drink every drop until you start talking." It was funny, in a sick kind of way, for Tran to tell him to keep his mouth open since the cloth was already forcing it open.

The oily liquid splashed onto Ted's lips, and he spluttered, his eyes watering as he tried to twist away. "Okay! Okay! Stop- I'll tell you! Warehouse! They're in the warehouse!" Or at least that is what it sounded like through the cloth, he gasped, grimacing as he spat out the thick, bitter oil that had already reached his mouth along with the cloth once Tran let him free.

Lance stepped back, still gripping the oil drum lever with a smirk. "Go on then. Spill." Tran allowed him to sit up and brushed the oil off his black shirt, which splashed on Tran's shirt.

Ted swallowed, coughing as he fought to regain his breath. "They're… they're in the warehouse on Fifth," he wheezed, wiping his mouth. "I had to move them. But I swear, I'll have them here by the weekend. Just… give me a couple more days."

"Kiss my shoes," Tran said, and Ted heaved slowly crawling on all fours to Tran's shoe.

*Thwack!*

He kicked him in the ribs, causing Ted to keel over and cough.

Tran's eyes flickered with satisfaction, though his expression remained cold. "If you're lying, Ted, there won't be another chance to apologize." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief, tossing it to Ted. "Clean yourself up. And don't think I'll forget about this."

Ted nodded vigorously, trembling as he wiped his face with the cloth. Tran stepped back, and with a subtle gesture, signaled for Lance to follow him. "Let's go get our engines!" As the three of them made their way toward the door, Dom, Vince, and Brian tensed, staying hidden as Tran's group passed by.

Once Tran, Lance, and their enforcer were out of earshot, Dom nodded for them to quietly leave. They moved swiftly through the side door, back into the cool night air, their breath visible as it mingled with the lingering scent of gasoline. They slipped back down the alley, reaching their cars without a word exchanged until they were safely away from Tran's territory.

Back in the car, they regrouped a few blocks down, parked under a quiet stretch of streetlights. Dom sat back, arms crossed, as he considered what they had just witnessed.

"Guess Tran's gearing up for Race Wars a lot harder than we thought," Vince said, breaking the silence.

Dom nodded, his expression unreadable. "It's not just about winning for him. This is about money, respect, and fear. He's got a lot riding on this, maybe more than we do. Guess losing each time to us has got him riled up."

Vince huffed, his gaze hard as he looked at Brian. "Why do we care what Tran's up to? This is his mess."

Dom held up a hand, silencing Vince. "Because if he's desperate enough to go after Ted like that, he won't stop there. Race Wars are gonna be more than just fast cars and egos. Tran's coming with everything he's got, and if we're not ready… He intends to dethrone us." He let the sentence hang, unfinished but heavy with implication.

Brian nodded slowly, understanding the unspoken stakes. While he may not have been given an express invitation to this Race Wars, he knew it was only a matter of time. This wouldn't be just a street race; but a turf war, a battle for dominance. And if Tran was willing to intimidate his own people with brutal tactics, there was no telling what he'd do to competitors.

Dom's gaze drifted toward the distant city lights, a steely resolve settling in his eyes. "Then we better be ready to bring everything we've got. Race Wars isn't gonna be just a race this year. It's gonna be a battle."

Vince cracked his knuckles, a smirk forming on his lips. "Good. Let's show Tran and his group of bike riders what happens when they mess with us."

Brian, watching Dom's unwavering focus, felt a pang of conflicted loyalty, a reminder of why he was really here. But as he looked back at Dom and Vince, he knew he was already deeper than he'd ever expected. Race Wars was coming, and with it, a chance to prove himself, even if it meant risking everything. And provided he proves himself, maybe they would let him in on something that would lead to closing this undercover operation.

—

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Meanwhile, Guldrin had awoken to the sound of a loud engine when Brian, Vince, and Dom had left.

*Yawn…*

"Morning Emily," He petted her fur and earned a purr, "God, you are so cute." She preened from his praise and leaned into his touch, 'Good morning to you too Guldrin… But, it is still dark outside.' Guldrin looked outside and saw that it was in fact still dark, "Hmm, I wonder why someone left at this time in the night.…" He stood up, stretched, and went to the fridge to grab some leftovers to snack on.

His eyes lit up when he saw a ziplock bag of chicken, "KFC! Vince must have got me more… Thanks, Uncle Vince!" He didn't hesitate to grab the whole bag and start scarfing them down like the little glutton he was. What he didn't know was that it was supposed to be VInce's food, and not meant to be devoured by Guldrin's bottomless pit of a stomach.

*Crunch, Munch, Nom*

"Shoo Gudd…" Guldrin was nearly halfway through the bag before he noticed and opened a Coke bottle. "Coke and chicken… It is great!" His life felt made as he walked barefoot through the shop and went to enter the garage only to see a new sign on the door. "No barefooted tinkerers allowed. Shoes are required. Signed, MOM."

'Ahaha, she got you…' Emily laughed in his mind as she swatted at his head.

"Okay, Mom, I will wear shoes…" He pouted but still entered his room and put on his dirty stolen shoes, even though he had new shoes, he didn't want to mess them up while working. So he wore his dirty brown working boots and entered the garage.

Guldrin stepped into the garage, the smell of oil and metal greeting him as he turned on the light. His Chevelle sat proudly in the center, an unpolished gem waiting for its moment to shine. Ever since its delivery, the relic of a car had been sitting in the foremost position of the shop, just waiting to be worked on. Guldrin's eyes sparkled as he walked over, the satisfaction of working on his own car making the late-night snack even better. Emily settled on his shoulder, her tail swishing as she surveyed the garage.

"What's on the list today, Emily?" he murmured, inspecting the tools lined up along the workbench. They'd made some good progress over the past few days, but the car was still far from road-ready.

'Well, we could tackle the engine mounts next… or maybe finish up the exhaust system,' she suggested, her eyes reflecting a mix of pride and excitement. 'I can't wait to see you behind the wheel in this.'

Guldrin grinned. "Me too! Let's start with the engine mounts. Once those are solid, we're one step closer to starting her up."

As he worked, his mind wandered. He hadn't seen Dom, Vince, or Brian around tonight, which was unusual, Dom, especially, usually showed up early to use it as an opportunity to check in on his project. It wasn't like them to not show up without saying anything. A flicker of concern crept into his thoughts, but he pushed it away. They were probably just out on business, handling the usual crew stuff. Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about what they might be up to.

The hours ticked by as he tightened bolts, adjusted parts, and double-checked his work. Even for a ten-year-old, he was meticulous, every turn of the wrench bringing him closer to the roaring engine he could already imagine. "I guess I should sign in for the day…"

"Ding, Congratulations for signing in at Toretto. You have successfully signed in at the garage and earned your 5x multiplier reward! Today's Sign-In Reward: Special Tool Kit for Classic Car Restoration

Contents Include:

Precision screwdrivers tailored for vintage models.

Specialty wrenches designed for engine components.

Digital torque wrench for accurate adjustments.

Rust removal paste and tools for restoring your Chevelle's bodywork.

Informational guide on common restoration issues for Chevelles.

Get ready to enhance your skills and tackle the restoration of your Chevelle with these amazing tools!"

'Oh, an inspirational sentence at the end, neat.'

This reward surprised him, but it didn't stop him from continuing to work through the night till the sun was cresting the horizon. Just as he was finishing up, he heard the unmistakable rumble of an engine outside, followed by the sound of car doors slamming shut. He paused, listening as voices grew louder.

"Sounds like they're back," he whispered, brushing a bit of grease off his face and straightening up his shabby appearance. He could make out Dom's deep voice along with Vince's laughter, and, if he wasn't mistaken, a quieter, more restrained Brian chiming in too.

'What is he doing here? And arriving with Dad…'

'No Idea, but Dom is smart, he won't allow him to do anything that could endanger you or anyone else.' Emily replied as she watched Guldrin try and fail at removing the oil from his hands.

Guldrin quickly wiped his hands, only to smear it further and set his tools down, a smile creeping onto his face. Maybe he'd finally get some details on where they'd been. He hurried to the front of the garage, pushing the door open just as Dom and the others walked in, looking a little rough around the edges.

Dom's eyebrows shot up when he saw Guldrin waiting for them. "Hey, little man, shouldn't you be in bed?"

Guldrin grinned, holding up his greasy hands in mock innocence. "Someone woke me up last night when they left. So~ since I was awake, I thought I would get a few things done. 

Vince smirked, patting Guldrin's shoulder. "Sorry kid, we didn't think we would wake you up when we left. But you and that car. You know, at this rate, you'll be racing us at Race Wars before you're twelve." He joked, Vince knew Dom and Letty wouldn't let him race that early.

Guldrin rolled his eyes, 'How did you think that roaring engine wouldn't wake me up?' He thought, but didn't say it out loud. "Maybe," Guldrin said with a cheeky grin. "But what made you leave so late and where you were tonight?"

Dom chuckled, glancing at Vince and Brian. "Just… keeping an eye on the competition," he replied, his tone light but his eyes holding a hint of tension. He had no intention of telling Guldrin what they were doing, and his gaze made that clear to everyone else.

Guldrin raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but willing to play along. "Sounds intense. Did you at least bring back some stories?"

Vince let out a laugh, ruffling his hair. "Maybe when you're a bit older, kid. Let's just say Tran's got a few surprises up his sleeve for Race Wars."

Brian, who had been quietly watching, gave Guldrin a small smile. "Yeah, but don't worry. We'll be ready for whatever he throws at us." 'Why is this kid always so interested in what we are doing? Plus, I can't shake the feeling that there is more to this kid… I have still yet to find out anything other than he eats a lot, works on cars, and his name is Guldrin, no last name… It is so odd.'

Guldrin's eyes lit up. "Well, I guess I'll just keep working on my own surprise, then. You'll let me in on all the secrets one day, right?" If they weren't going to tell him what they were doing, he wouldn't tell them what he did to his car. It was childish, but he thought it was payback. He should have known that anyone who has the skills and experience would be able to figure out what he had gotten done if they looked.

Dom chuckled, giving Guldrin a gentle push toward the interior of the shop and in turn his room. "When the time's right, kid. Now get some rest. That car will still be there in the morning."

Guldrin waved them off, his mind buzzing with questions. "Night Dad, Uncle Vince, and… You too." He bid them goodnight and entered the shop. As he entered his room, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were getting serious.

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)