One day had passed since Stephano had given Jack the ultimatum of three days. The guy had utilized the time to try and threaten Sam and then did something at the docks.
Since this was all Sam could report back to his boss so far he decided that it was better than nothing. It was always useful to meet the mobster before he 'met' you.

Wiping some sweat of his brow he took a few slow, deep breaths to calm himself down before he stepped out of the car at their meeting point. A warehouse near the docks. The area looked like a good place to make somebody disappear so Sam braced himself by taking along not only one but two guns.

When he stepped into the shadows of one of the warehouses he called out. "Hello?"
Slowly his eyes adjusted to the darkness so he could make out two people. The man himself and of of his steady hands.
With confidence he closed the distance towards him but stop about five meters away. "I have information on the kid."

Stephano waited impatiently for Mr. Ward's arrival, he was about ready to cut the deadline for Jack to now, every passing hour he grew more uneasy about the status of that shipment. The mob's fate may lie within it.

When the kid finally did show up, the mobster put on his game face, hoping there was something of genuine use to him. "Good, do talk, Mr. Ward." He said and pulled out a cigar.

Never taking his eyes of the mobster or his right hand Sam nodded. "I put a tracker on Mr. O'Conner and followed him to one of the ships that are in the docks right now. I'm pretty sure that has something to do with whatever he lost."
For a moment he weighed his options and then asked. "It would be very helpful if you gave me a little more information on what he lost so I know what to look for."

Sam was frowing more nervous since the man hadn't said a word but he remained calm...at least on the outside.
"Do you want me to follow him if he leaves the country on that ship?"
He was hoping that the answer would be yes because he didn't want to have to kill Jack. Sam didn't want to take somebody's life, not unless his own was threatened.
"Oh and I found out that he has a brother, who recetly had twins. I'm using them as leverage." he purposely didn't mention the fact that the brothers ex who happened to be Stephano's niece was putting pressure on him.

He could feel more sweat on his forehead but refrained from wiping it away.

Stephano wasn't surprised to hear that essentially his shipment ended up on the docks, he was a little surprised though that Jack was stupid enough to ship it commercially, that made finding it much easier. He did feel a small sense of relief, at least know having an idea of where it was.

"Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Ward. You are to watch that docking yard from now until you see any trace of O'Conner, or any suspicious activity at all. When he come's back, do whatever means necessary to make give him up the location of the shipment. What it contains is not of importance, that is where you will call me. I will come down and handle it myself. Whatever happens, Jack does not leave this county by the docks. I don't care if you have to sink the boat, he doesn't get away."

The news of the older brother's twins intrigued the mobster somewhat, they definitely had a lot of leverage there, though he cautioned Sam. "Be aware that you may make them just more desperate for another way out." He paused and after thinking for a moment, hatched an idea. "Kidnap them. That way they'll have simply no choice." He grinned very menacingly, that was surely a certain way to get them to surrender.

"What if the docks were just a distraction..how about I watch O'Conner instead of the docking yard?" Talking back was never a smart idea but in this case Sam had to be sure he got the job done properly.

Of course the mobster wouldn't give up what package Jack lost but at least he said he'd handle that part himself, which almost made Sam breath a sigh of relief until he heard that Jack wasn't going to leave under any circumstances. Sam wanted to make sure that he didn't necessarily have to kill the guy so he tried to reconfirm. "I'll keep O'Conner with me until you arrive as well.

The move with the kids was bold but it always worked. When it came to kids even tough guys became softies. The order to kidnap them was unexepected though.
"How do you expect me to kidnap them and at the same time stake out O'Conner?" He was going out on a limb now because he disliked the evil grin on Stephanos face. one day he'd wipe it off with his bare hands.

"I wouldn't believe the boy would have the wit to travel down to the dock just to lead potential followers astray. I say it is safe to say he has an interest there." Stephano said very sure of himself. "Do not make a habit of questioning my plays, Mr. Ward."

The mob man took a few cigar moments as he heard Sam's continuous questions. Admittedly, the boy definitely thought for himself better than most would in his shoes, not that is was necessarily a plus. "Dominic can handle Jack while you are occupied, but make it quick. I want them in my possession by tomorrow afternoon."

There was a new bit of information that Sam wasn't particularily fond of but had no say in. Dom. Who was this Dom? Maybe Dominic Toretto, who's sister had been on his ass about the whole issue?
This would be interesting because it seemed like Mia really wanted Jack save...it was easy to guess her brother wanted the same.
Sam wondered whether Stephano knew about this.

"Who's this Dom?" He couldn't really admit that Mia had tracked him down and threatened him.

He didn't like the fact that he was supposed to kidnap the babies but there's wasn't much he could do about it. Sam only hoped they wouldn't get hurt.
"Those kids were still in incubators and had some tubes in the hospital yesterday. It might kill them if I take them....but if that's what you want."
He nodded and took a step back just waiting for the info on Dom.
He sure felt like he was getting a baby sitter.

Damn this kid was snoopy, he asked more questions that Stephano would've liked. He contemplated not even answering at all, but if it put Sam's mind to ease a little about this job he was about to encounter, so be it. "Dominic is a close family friend, I have assigned him to Jack as a way to relive his debt to me."

"The children's well being is of little concern to me, Mr. Ward. I'm sure it will only take a few hours for negotiations to be settled once they are captured." He smiled as he breathed out the latest of his cigar. This really was a plan that couldn't fail.

So Sam's suspicion about Stephano giving him a 'shadow' was right. At least there was a second guy on the job.
He kept a straight face to hide what he knew about Mia's former relationship and nodded.
"Consider it done. I'll call you when I have them."

He then turned his back on the two men and with quick steps crossed the large, dark warehouse.
When he stepped outside he was glad to be out of the immediate reach of this man.

Now he had to take action. He needed to get his hands on the twins but first he wanted to make sure Jack wasn't running so he got into his car and followed the signal on his tracker that led him straight to Jack's new habitat: A small motel outside of town.
He had the feeling jack hadn't really understood that he needed to follow his instructions under any circumstances. on the contrary, the guy had a mind of his own that needed a little readjustment.

It was pretty late when he picked the lock and found Jack sleeping alone in the dingy place.
His gun in hand he was quick to close the distance and press the gun to his forehead before he could get his own weapon out.
"Don't move."
Show me those hands. As soon as the guy lifted his hands Sam fumbled out a string with a loop and tied them in his lap. Even with one hand he was very quick to tightly secure Jack.
"Now....how is the retrieval of those goods coming along?"

Jack woke with a start when his motel room door was flung open, his hand reaching for the gun under his pillow, but it was already too late. He slowly slid his hand back out from under the pillow, raising them both as he glared down the barrel of Sam's gun. How had the fucker even been able to find him this time?

He turned his head away from the gun's muzzle as far as he could while Sam single-handedly tightened the rope around his wrists, tying them securely together. Once or twice, he had dreamed up a scenario similar to this. Except his fantasy was with a bad girl tying him up to his bed, promising to do wicked things to his body that would make him scream uncontrollably, and not with some dude who was hired to kill him. No, this situation certainly was not as arousing as some of the fantasies he had concocted in his head.

"It's coming along just fine, thanks for asking," he answered, his flippant smile bordering on a sneer. He was far from giving Sam the answered he clearly wanted. Despite his less than favorable position, adrenaline was kicking in now and he could already feel the throb in his fingers begin to turn into tingling numbness. At least he hoped that was the adrenaline and not the fact that Sam had tied the ropes so snug he had actually cut off his blood supply.

"You know, next time you should really give a guy a phone call when you're thinking of dropping by. I would have put on something pretty if I'd known you were coming."

Watch out all you guys with tender stomachs...don't read on!

Jacks attitude had a tendency to make close friends loose it and was definetly a big problem when it came to people who were't exactly his friends.

Sam had a hard time not to give him a bloody nose, especially since Jack had been so kind to give him a bloody scratch right across his face. Yet he kept it together and focused on the job.

"Well, you're not my type."

He took a step back and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his finger never leaving the trigger.
"If things are coming along just fine, you probably won't mind showing me the stuff."

He cocked his head to the side and waited for something a little more productive than the 'pretty dress' comment. Jack however remained silent while Sam's gaze darkened.

It looked a lot like Jack either wasn't taking him seriously or didn't get the message yet. This fact put the hit man in a very bad position. The hit had been ordered already if O'Conner didn't deliver the goods within 24 hours, which would make Sam either motherless or a killer. Either way he looked at it there was no good outcome for the former soldier. Not unless Jack delivered what he owed and Sam would make damn sure he did.

"Alright." He nodded, thumbed the safety on and shoved his gun back in his belt just to kick Jack's chair over backwards within the blink of an eye. The guy landed on the floor together with the wooden piece of furniture. A second later Sam's foot was on his throat and he grabbed Jacks right hand. From his pocket he pulled a pair of garden clippers, opened them and held them to the blondes shaking fingers.
'Don't think, don't feel, just do what's necessary' he told himself. Taking a deep breath he pushed the handles together as hard as he could clipping Jack's index finger off. The thumb followed.
Sam's foot never left his throat and pressed down hard enough to muffle any loud screams and immobilize him as much as possible.

Putting away the clippers again he could feel his own hands shake just as much as his victims. He then pulled out a plastic bag and pocketed the detached limbs fighting the urge to simply run away from what he'd just done.
"Within the next 24 hours a good doctor will be able to sew them back on. You'll get them back when I have the goods."
The message was out and Sam wanted nothing more than to leave the scene as fast as he could.

Only outside did he allow himself his own feelings, which resulted in him vomiting behind the next bush. When had he become so bad?

Jack remained silent, his eyes promising no answers, only hatred and defiance as he watched Sam put away his gun. No sooner than that, the chair he was tied to toppled over backwards by a kick, forcing a groan from his throat that he couldn’t hope to contain when the back of his head hit the hard floor. Sam was looming over him then, holding him down while he produced garden clippers from his jacket. It didn't take a genius to realize what his plan was when Sam placed his index finger between the sharp blades of the tool.

Nooooooooooo! God, fuck! Don't, please!

The natural instinct of self preservation formed the words in his mind, but they never made it to Jack's lips. He wasn't ready to verbally beg yet, and even if he could, deep down he knew there was no point. There was nothing that could possibly stop Sam, nothing he could trade to spare himself from what was about to happen, no bargain to be made. All he could hope for was for Sam to be bluffing, though that was something that was most likely not the case. He never had been lucky like that.

Despite being held down so tight it was virtually impossible to move anywhere, reflex made him buck and writhe when the first snap came, then the second. Both the sound and the excessive pain made his stomach lurch, and whatever Sam was saying to him barely registered right now, his mind too busy juggling the need to breathe through his nose while attempting to disengage his brain from what had just happened so that he didn't vomit. It made him wish he'd taken his chance trying to grab his gun out from under his pillow earlier. He'd made the mistake of looking at his severed fingers, too, when Sam had picked them up and bagged them before he disappeared.

-------------

Several moments (minutes, hours?) later, Jack had finally freed himself from his bonds. His lazily bleeding hand was throbbing to the beat of a heart that was pumping too fast and he grunted and growled his way through the pain as he poured a bottle of cheap Vodka over the wounds, then ripped up the even cheaper motel bed sheets, bandaging his hand up with the rags as best and as tightly as he could. Sam finding him here couldn't have been just a fluke. He had somehow known exactly where he was, which could only mean one thing; a tracking device.

Cursing under his breath, Jack stood up, downing what was left of the Vodka before he collected his gun and car keys and headed outside to his old Challenger. With his left (and intact) hand, he searched under the edges of the bumpers, fenders and rims, finding nothing until his fingers grazed over something small stuck to the back of the last rim.

"Yahtzee," he muttered, tearing the device from the rim. "Fucking bastard."

After sticking the thing to the car parked next to his, Jack slid into the driver's seat of the Challenger while he awkwardly pulled his phone from his pocket with his left hand and dialed his brother's number. Brian probably didn't want to hear from him, possibly ever again, but fuck it...

"Bro, I am so very, very fucked..," said Captain Obvious when the other side of the line picked up, but hey, it was about time he somewhat admitted he was in over his head, no? He just hoped his brother couldn't hear his physical pain through his voice.

In a strange kind of daze Sam got into his car, carefully placed the plastic bag on the passenger seat without looking at it once and started driving away.
He didn't look in his rear view mirror once because he knew Jack was too busy trying not to pass out.
The acidic taste of vomit still lingered in his mouth but he was otherwise calm and collected. Just the way he should be.

This feeling lasted until he hit the freeway when he suddenly started shaking and couldn't keep the wheel straight anymore.
"What the..?"
His stomach threatened to spill the rest of it's contents and the hit man actually had to pull over on the emergency lane to prevent loosing control.
With cars zooming by he bent over in disgust because of what he had just done to this dumb kid and finally let his eyes grace over the contents of the bag. "You'd better get back to me within a day." He muttered to himself.
There were days when he wished he would have never met Stephano. The money was tempting but at what costs?

--

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Jack was in serious trouble when he was calling Brian. His words however were what instantly caught his brothers attention.
He stopped what he was doing and held the phone closer to his ear to listen to his brothers pressed out, fearful words.
At that very moment Brian knew they had gotten to Jack. A picture of Jack with a bullett between his ribs flashed in front of Brian's eyes.
"What happened, Jack? Are you okay? Where are you?"
When there was no immediate answer he added. "Come to the Fort. Right now."