"By any means necessary"
"By any means necessary"
"By any means necessary"
Leticia “Letty” Ortiz
Where Letty goes, so does Dom, who calls her “the most important person in my universe, and the only one who’ll never give up on me.” In Fast & Furious Crossroads, they unite for an all-new mission that will expand the family and take them further into a global conspiracy than they dreamed possible.
Growing up on the same Angelino Heights streets as Dom and his sister, Mia, Letty’s need for adrenaline started when she was a girl. By 15, she and Dom began their love for illegal street racing, small-time heists…and each other.
Letty is the epitome of a strong woman—fiercely loyal to those in her circle and always willing to go to battle for the underdog. With unmatched street-fighting skills and a heart as warm as her fists are cold, Letty’s idealistic, fearless love drives her belief in staying together during the tough times.
Married in a secret ceremony in Mexico, the pair spent years evading the law. But where Dom is impulsive, Letty is cautious; where he is trusting, she is wary. “No one ever made me do anything I didn’t want to do,” she once told Brian.
It was her love for Dom that dragged her back from the abyss of amnesia, and after Dom’s baby is kidnapped and Cipher holds him hostage, it is Letty who is sure of Dom’s innocence. Only Letty could bring the family together to rescue the love of her life, and only she can lead Vienna and Cam on this death-defying mission…one dropped straight into their front seats by Mr. Nobody.
One look at the Chevy Corvette C2 Sting Ray that Letty powered through the streets of New York City, and it’s easy to understand why Sports Car International named the Sting Ray No. 5 on its list of Top Sports Cars of the 1960s.
The in-game ’67 model is the final second-generation Corvette and, for many, the most iconic of all. Why? Five years’ worth of development and an absolutely savage 427 big-block Chevy V8 Tri-Power L88 of all-Detroit muscle for starters.
The L88 was pretty-much a pure racing engine with an insane 12.5:1 compression rate (you could only run it with 103-octane racing fuel) tagged to a single—and ludicrously enormous—Holley four-barrel carburetor.
Chevy at the time suggested the L88 was pushing 430hp at 4,600 rpm, but that isn’t even close to the power you’ll be pushing to your fat rear tires—more like 560hp at 6,400 rpm.
If you bought the L88 back in ’67, you were obliged to add some Chevy extras such as heavy-duty suspension and power brakes, and you also lost some options, such as the heater and the radio.
They only sold 20 of these that year, and only a handful in the Rally Red. And making it even rarer is that it’s been customized for Letty, who likes to get up close and personal with her adversaries: With a little help from Ramsey, Letty has installed deployable spikes onto each axle…to allow her to shred the tires of anyone getting in her way.
This Datsun 240Z (S30) once belonged to Han, the brother the family lost way too soon. Remember it drifting through the mist-laden mountains outside of Tokyo in that dream-like world of pure street racing, dancing to the tune of red-lining RPM? That Datsun is Letty’s now, and she honors Han every time she drives it. Beautiful, fast, rugged, unpretentious … and ready to ride.
The Datsun 240Z was a halo car back in the late ’70s for Datsun. Wanting to get into the U.S. market and needing to establish their brand as something other than makers of small-engine economy cars, 10 engineers—led by head of Nissan’s Sports Car Styling Studio, Yoshihiko Matsuo—were assigned mission improbable: build a beautiful, quick, and affordable sports car to compete with the best from Europe.
It helped, of course, that Nissan had recently merged with the Prince Motor Company, the makers of the Prince Skyline (that would grow up to become the king of Japanese imports, the Nissan Skyline), who offered the Nissan engineers plenty to work with when it came to race-crafting a high-performance road car.
The original Datsun/Fairlady Z came in two “specs”—one for Japan, and one for the U.S. The Japanese version had a smaller engine, but was tuned for racing; the U.S. version had a fatter engine, but wasn’t quite as quick in the turns. Letty gets the best of both worlds.
As did Nissan: the 240Z, with its European styling, and quickly gained race pedigree (first in the ’71 and ’73 Safari Rally), paved the way for the whole import street-racing scene that Brian grew up around in the late- ’80s and -’90s.
Street racing myth doesn’t get better than Han’s Datsun 240Z.
Porsche began working on their new racing 911 in ’71, a racecar that needed a 500 street-legal production run to be allowed to enter the sportscar championship.
Porsche accountants were convinced this new car would be a financial disaster for the company—a road car, they asked the engineers, that was stripped-out and offered no comforts, couldn’t be sold in the US because it lacked emission standard papers, and didn’t even have a cubbyhole? A calamity!
All the same, the Porsche 911 Carrera 2.7 RS debuted at the Paris Auto Show in 1972 sporting a “duck-tail” rear spoiler sitting on top of the engine―a first for any road-going car—super-sexy bulging fenders, the world’s first road car with wider tyres at the rear than the front, and “Carrera” stencilled on the doors. It was an immediate show-stopper.
After six days, all 500 projected models had been sold and another 1,000 units pre-ordered in less than a week. The expected calamity had just become what many, to this day, think of as the quintessential 911.
Porsche then got to work on the race version of their new 911―a car that was essentially the 2.7 but, taking advantage of the regs that allowed for modifications for racing, upped the engine capacity to 2.8 L. With that done, the Porsche 911 Carrera RSR 2.8 went racing and dominated every race it entered.
And then someone decided that the Porsche 911 Carrera RSR 2.8 would be an ideal weapon to continue the 911’s tradition for off-road excellence—911s had already won the Monte Carlo rally in 1968—by entering it in the greatest rally race of them all: the Paris-Dakar.
That version is the one around which Letty’s Porsche 911 Carrera RSR 2.8 Off-Road is built—a racing RSR 2.8 that’s been totally overhauled for hard-terrain running; the suspension softened and raised, four high-beam lights installed above heavy-grade metal runners, fibreglass strengthened all round, and power upped to around 400 hp.
Tough, gorgeous, an absolute legend … and a Porsche 911 Carrera RSR 2.8: A match made in heaven. Mess with them at your own risk.
Harpoon, Sticky Bomb
“Super Duty” is the Holy Grail for Pontiac enthusiasts—the meanest, hardest-pulling V8 big-block muscle-motor of its era. The ’73 Firebird Trans-Am Formula SD-455s was also the rarest of the Firebirds—just 43 made, and only 10 had the classic 4-speed ’box.
With quickly changing emission standards right in the eye of the ’73 Oil Crisis, Pontiac’s Trans-Am Formula SD-455 Firebird was about as wild an idea as stamping a screamin’ chicken on the hood. Part of its aura is that it was almost never made, and was developed right from the get-go by a small group of hardcore Pontiac engineers.
Pontiac learnt a lot of hard lessons in the rough-and-tumble world of the SCCA Trans-Am series, and they shoved all of that learning into this ’73 Firebird: inside and out, this is a muscle car that could both shift to the quarter mile as quick as a Ferrari Daytona and maybe shake one off through the canyons.
The mythical RPO Y99 handling package and Endura-style nose along with the ever-cool “shaker” scoop rumbling through start-ups and gear shifts that all ended with this ’73 Firebird makes this one truly special ride for Letty.
For ’74, the Firebird got a lot chubbier, power was trimmed, and the time was up for one of the last, true-blue, all-American muscle cars. Enjoy what you got, as nothing’s forever.