Los Angeles.
When his phone vibrated again, a smile finally appeared on Dom's typically stoic face.
He took a sip of his beer, pulled out the phone, and tapped the screen.
As expected, it was another email from the unknown address.
He opened it quickly and read the contents.
"I have arrived. The package has been delivered."
"I will contact the client imdiately for pick up. All is well."
"Good kid!"
Dom couldn't be 100% sure the shipnt had actually arrived in Boston safely.
He was under surveillance, so he couldn't send anyone to the port to verify if the container was gone.
But he wouldn't have to wait long to find out if Hunter was telling the truth.
The reason Dom had Hunter smuggle the stolen electronics to Boston was simple: the gang receiving the goods was made up of Dominican immigrants.
Dom and his family also traced their roots back to the Dominican Republic.
His family still had connections back on the island.
The Dominican Republic was a small island nation in the Caribbean, with a land area of only about 700 square kiloters and a population of tens of thousands.
Because of this small size, immigrants from there tended to stick together fiercely when abroad.
Dom trusted them. He knew that as soon as the goods were delivered, they would deposit the agreed-upon sum into his specified account.
He waited patiently for another two hours. Figuring it was enough ti, he called out.
"Letty!"
Monts later, his girlfriend appeared.
"What's up, Dom?"
Letty knew the house was bugged, so she spoke carefully.
Dom kept his expression neutral. "I'm craving Chinese food tonight."
"Take Mia and go to Chinatown. Pick up so groceries. We'll cook a Chinese feast tonight."
Letty's eyelids twitched. This was a code phrase they had agreed upon last night during a mont of intimacy (where they could whisper safely).
It ant she needed to take Mia out.
While pretending to shop, she needed to verify if the money from the stolen electronics had hit their secret bank account.
Bringing Mia was strategic. To the surveillance team, Mia was the lowest threat. Two won going shopping together wouldn't raise suspicion.
"Why don't we just eat out?" Letty played along.
"Cars are impounded. Can't race. Don't feel like moving."
"Fine. Let change."
While changing, Letty retrieved the hidden bank card Dom used for laundering money.
She tucked it away in a secure spot and then left the house with Mia, acting casual.
Hunter had no idea what was happening back in LA.
Due to the ti difference, after confirming the buyers' location in Boston, he had spent the day exploring the city.
By evening, Hunter started heading back toward the Moscow Nights hotel.
Maybe it was because of his enhanced physique, but lately, his appetite had increased significantly.
He got hungry faster, too.
Even though he had eaten three tis a normal portion for lunch, shortly after sunset, his stomach was growling again.
He scanned the street and spotted a family diner on the corner two blocks ahead.
"Welco!"
As Hunter pushed open the door, an elderly white man behind the counter smiled and nodded. "What can I get you?"
It was a standard Arican diner. The nu was handwritten on a board above the counter.
Hunter's five senses were far sharper than an ordinary person's.
He glanced up quickly, morizing the dozen food and drink options and their prices in a split second.
"One lemon soda, a Big Mac-style beef burger, a xican chicken wrap, and a hot dog! Oh, and give one of those signature donuts too."
Perhaps because Hunter ordered so much food, a figure sitting at the counter turned to look at him.
Hunter was sensitive to gazes. He turned his head sharply and t the person's eyes.
It was a sowhat plump teenage girl. It was hard to tell her exact age under the heavy makeup, but Hunter estimated she wasn't older than sixteen or seventeen.
She wore a bizarre purple wig and revealing clothes—a miniskirt and a spaghetti-strap top that exposed her shoulders.
Despite her young age, she had an impressively curvaceous figure.
Most n seeing her would imdiately have certain thoughts.
Hunter was no exception. But more importantly, the girl's face triggered a mory from his past life.
"Hit-Girl!"
Hunter almost blurted out the nickna of the fierce, purple-haired little assassin from the movie Kick-Ass.
But he swallowed the words just in ti.
"No, that's not Hit-Girl. The age is wrong."
The girl t Hunter's gaze. She was clearly attracted by his youth and good looks.
She seed to want to say sothing to him, but then, rembering sothing, she wilted and looked away.
She went back to listlessly nibbling on her donut, which was doused in condensed milk.
The owner interrupted Hunter's thoughts.
"Coming right up. Take a seat anywhere. It'll just be a mont."
Hunter sat at a table near the entrance. He subconsciously scanned the diner.
Surprisingly, he didn't see a tall, imposing black man reading a book.
"So this older 'Hit-Girl'... that must be Teri from The Equalizer."
"Interesting. This world is getting more fun by the minute."
Relying on his extensive movie knowledge from his past life, Hunter identified the girl after a few monts of observation.
The plump girl listlessly eating a donut at the counter was Teri (Alina), the young prostitute controlled by the Russian mob in the movie The Equalizer.
Suddenly, Hunter connected the dots.
The weird vibe at the Moscow Nights hotel. The Russian staff. The honey trap.
In an instant, all his previous doubts were answered.
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