After a few hours sleep Sam spent a good few hours doing research on Jack O'Conner. If he was supposed to follow him and be convincing he needed to know everything he could about the guy from his previous jobs, lovers, family down to the colour of his underpants.
Sipping on a black coffee he printed out everything he could find through open and 'locked' sources and highlighted the things that could be useful for him. Then he rubbed his head and muttered to himself. "Why you got hired in the first place I don't understand." It had to be his driving skills because everything else was either nothing special or had been terminated by the guy just after he started.
It was only 5 am when he made his way back to the motel still in the dark.
There he sat in his car on the other side of the street hoping he hadn't spooked the guy enough to run immediately. Hopefull the man was smart enough that there was no running from Stephano and his many hands.

"Morning, sunshine." His voice held a chipper tone that didn't reach his eyes whatsoever as Jack pressed the cold business end of his Colt 1911 A1 against the temple of Dieseli's unsuspecting dog, pulling the hammer back and cocking the gun before the man could even move a muscle. He was grateful it was this early in the morning; meant it was still dark out and not many people would be up at this hour; which in turn meant he didn't have to worry so much about possible bystanders witnessing him shoving a gun in someone's face.

His eyes shifted to the folder lying on the passenger's seat and he couldn't help but chuckle. Well, well, the dog had done his homework on him. Didn't that make him feel special. Jack lowered himself down, until he was face to face with the man, still pressing the gun firmly against his temple through the open car window.

"I got a message for Dieseli. If the old man wants his shipment back, he better get his little bitch off my ass," he growled. Not that he had any intention of returning the goods to Dieseli. No, his intentions were to sic the FEDs on the old man's scent, then make a nice little profit on the goods himself. He knew the street value of what he'd been running, and more importantly, he knew the buyers thanks to Rina, Stephano's daughter. The girl wasn't as smart as she thought she was, and Jack wasn't as stupid as everyone thought he was. (okay, that was debatable depending on who you talked to, but still...)

"Anyho, it was nice seeing you again, but let's not repeat this any time soon, kay, pumpkin?" he said, instantly pistol-whipping the guy across the face, hard enough for the skin on his cheek to break the skin and leave a nice gash. He owed the fucker that much for his little surprise party back at his motel room.

Leaving the guy behind stunned, Jack casually walked to his own car, a slightly rusty, black '70 Dodge Challenger, and got in. Moments later the car peeled out of the motel's parking lot and onto the street, it's destination: Anywhere but here.


(Probably not what you expected, but if Jack really was as stupid as portrayed so far, he'd probably be dead already . Not that this seemed smart, but there shall be more to Jack than meets the eye, goddamnit! Lol, anywhore, Sam can follow him regardless... or not.... your choice.)

The wait would probably be long, maybe even a few hours, if the guy was still at the motel at all. It would be more likely that he had picked up his feet and got the hell out of there. Sam knew he would if somebody was coming after him. Maybe he should get a coffee to shorten the waiting time.
Just when he was about to reach for the door handle a hand with a gun came through the open window. Attached to that hand was the very man he had been waiting for. What a surprise. Instinctively Sam held his breath because he hadn't been very nice to the guy so he expected nothing good.
The sarcasm coming out of his mouth was actually much more harmless than what the ex-soldier had expected.

While the steel of the gun was pressing against his temple and promised maximum damage the blondes face came within inches of Sams. Close enough to reach for it and smash it agains the dashboard. Not with a colt on your head though.
Frozen Sam sat and listened to the warning. Slowly but with confidence he replied. "The old man will not back down. Getting me off your case is not an option, I'm afraid. You're better off taking me along when you pick up the goods if you want to live." He warned but could tell that Jack couldn't care less.

He could have expected Jack's next move but for some reason didn't think the young guy had a brutal bone in his. He seemed such a softy. Sam had to reconsider his first impression when he got smacked across the face with enough force to tear his skin open and make his head whip around, which seriously pissed him off. Yet he decided to remain seated while he was boiling inside.

Turning his face back he looked into the rear view mirror to see Jack get into an old car and drive off.

He didn't have to think twice to turn his own key. let a few cars pass and then a u-turn to follow Jack at a good distance.
While slowly following the man he wiped the back of his hand over the blood on his cheek that was running down and soiling the collar of his shirt. "Stupid fuck." He growled before he fumbled out his cell phone and called Stephano. "I'm following O'Conner right now. I'll keep you update on where he's going." He left out the part about having been detected by the young man.

It wasn't hard to tell that Jack had noticed him when he pulled into a gas station. Sam did the same a briefly stopped next to him. While Jack went into the station to pay the former soldier attached a tiny tracking device to the inside of his rim and then made his way to the bathroom to clean his face.

cdn01.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/headlines/2007/03/prison-break-stills.jpg

[/img][/center]

When Jack came back outside after having payed for his breakfast of champions, which consisted of two cans of Red Bull, a hotdog he wasn't sure was safe to eat and a fresh pack of cigarettes (one of which was already hanging casually from his lips), he noted that Sam's car was still on the lot, parked a couple of cars away from his, but Sam himself was nowhere to be seen. Strange... but at least it meant he could get a head start on the fucker if he was still following him.

Pulling the cigarette from his lips, Jack cracked one of the Red Bulls open and gulped down the contents of the can in almost one go as he slid into the drivers seat of his Challenger. One second away from starting up the car, though, the strained efforts of the engine of the car parked next to his caught his attention. Jack visibly cringed at the horrible sound it was making, mentally wondering if it was either the distributor cap or the alternator that was the problem while the woman behind the wheel tried to start her car again and again to no avail. Evidently, something under the Sedan's hood needed fixing and if he'd cared much, or actually had any time to do anything about it, then chances were his skilled hands could fix the issue in no time. But right now he couldn't afford to care, so even if she was looking at him now with a pleading smile that could wrap any lesser man around her finger, she would just have to deal with it herself.

...Yeah, shockingly enough, from time to time men actually could think with something other than their dick when it came to women...

The exterior of his own car currently wasn't much to look at either, what with the lightly rusted fenders and hood and the dents here and there, but despite the Dodge's misleading body, the Challenger started without fuss, tuned to perfection and right on cue, her engine running smoothly as he pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the street.

Jack rested his elbow on frame of the door as he drove, the fingers on that hand idly massaging away a knot in his neck as he periodically glanced into his rearview mirror. So far, Dieseli's dog didn't seem to be following him anymore. Maybe the guy had actually heeded his advice after all, or maybe he had found some other method to track him, but either way he had an appointment at the docks he couldn't afford to miss, not if he wanted his plan to work.

So that was where he was going now.

Of course O'Conner knew that Sam was at the station. He needed to spend enough time in the bathroom for his target to drive away thinking he was out of reach so he took some paper towels and dabbed at the gash the idiot had left on his face. Frowning he observed the depth and wondered whether it would leave a scar. Obviously the boy had no idea what was good for him. This only made Sam want to go through with his task and with the blood wiped the last bit of compassion he might have felt away.

Leaning his hands on the sink Sam stared into the mirror counting the seconds, then turned to take a piss.

Five minutes later he stepped back outside into the early morning sunshine and found the old Challenger gone. A smirk played on his lips when he pulled out the receiver of the tracker and saw the signal moving. Jack hadn't found it, not yet anyway.

After buying a coffee at the station he got in the car and followed the signal. The drive took about 20 minutes until he arrived at the docks. Slowing down he kept his eyes on the small dot on the screen while rolling down the loading area.
Ships were being loaded and unloaded, workers gave him the odd look but didn't care too much so he parked his car, shoved his gun in the back of his pants under his shirt and kept following the signal by foot.
The docks were an unusual place for somebody like Jack to go. He was either making a run for it or picking up the slack and retrieving the lost goods. Either way Sam knew he had to be on top of things.

Jack had long since parked his Challenger near the wharf where fishing vessels were preparing their ships for a long day out on the open sea. These fishermen went out deep into the sea every day, so the Coast Guard didn't think twice when they see all those boats leaving or coming back, as long as the boat was registered. What the Coast Guard didn't account for, is the drug running boats that met those fishermen when they’re out in international waters. A drug run didn't always go flawless this way, but it was still one of the less riskful way of smuggling pretty much anything into California.

After making some smalltalk with the captain of one of the ships, Jack gave the man an amicable smile while he reached out his hand for him to shake. Inside that hand, he held an envelope with content, which remained out of the sight of any onlookers as it discretely passed from one owner to the other during the handshake.

"You'll get the rest afterwards, if everything has gone well," he told the captain. The man nodded, and Jack gave him a friendly shoulder clap before he turned to walk back to his car. Dieseli had been under the impression that he had lost his cargo, but the truth was quite the opposite. The goods he was supposed to run for Stephano had never made it out of Mexico, at least not yet. Now though, he had found himself a buyer, so it was time to make his move and rip off the Italian mobster.

Was it smart to go up against a man as powerful as Dieseli? most likely not, because he already had one hitman after him. Jack's motto, however, had always been 'live fast, die young'. He loved the rush and putting his ass on the line, one of the reasons why he had gotten into illegal street racing in the first place, and he loved easy money. The only setback was the threat against the lifes of his newborn niece and nephew, but he was sure that if he played his cards right, Brian would never find out about that little detail.

...And speak of the devil...

Seconds after Jack had started the Challenger's engine, his phone rang, the caller-id blinking angrily with his brother's name. Awesome.

"We need to meet, right now. I know what's going on so don't try to play dumb. Meet me Dom's place in an hour. You'd better be there if you want to keep breathing!"

Fucking hell, he didn't even get time to say anything in return before Brian hung up again, leaving him with no other choice but to obey. And so he would, he guessed...



(Figured I'd connect this thread with the 'Brother's Keepers' one, since I don't know where else to send Jack for now haha. If it's not okay, I'll edit )

The small blinking dot on the tracking device in his hand lead Sam straight to the docks. Either Jack had not noticed him put a tracker on his car or he absolutely did not give a shit about the assassin, who's been sent after him.

His cheeks still burnt from the hit with the gun. That very action supported Sam's theory of not giving shit about the assassin. He shot a quick glance in the rear view mirror and turned it down to see whether it was still bleeding. A scab was forming on his face and together with it deep, powerful anger was forming. This guy was in for a bad ride!

Either way Sam slowly rolled towards where Jack was parked and then hid his car in a good distance. On foot he followed the blinking light and soon spotted the beat up dodge.
His eyes carefull scanned the ships, containers and warehouses in the area while he kept in the shadows of the containers. Workers were loading and unloading ships. Only two conclusions were possible. Jack was trying to get away by ship or he maybe was waiting for some shipment. It even crossed Sam's mind that the lost goods might still be on the ship.

When he spotted Jack empty handed climbing down the boards from one of the tall ships he quickly hid behind a container. His breath was rapid because he felt he discovered something important, something he could report to his boss.

Remaining in the shadows until Jack was in his car and drove off he shoved the device in his pocket and controlled his heavy breathing.
Then he got out his phone and called Stephano to let him know what he had just seen.