Hobbs had just about everything in line for tomorrow night. He had the men, he had the weapons if necessary, and he had the plan. But his plan had a fault. He was smart enough to realize that this mob dug itself into the world of street racing and drug trafficking, and therefore probably wasn't afraid to run in capable vehicles. There was major problem here, nobody in the department could drive worth a damn, and their standard issue cruisers were less than adequate to pursue whatever performance sedan the mob could buy to whisk away their boss. He needed a sturdy plan in case the mob did exactly what he was expecting them to.

The more he looked over his profile, the more he believed this Frank Martin was the answer. He had his share of run ins with the law to say the least, but he was proven getaway driver, and seemingly the type that would take on any job for the dollar. And so the Agent put the call in to this Frank Martin. "Mr. Martin, this is Agent Luke Hobbs with the FBI. I want to talk about your services, a top dollar deal. Meet me at the museum across from the Los Angeles police station in an hour."

Frank listened to the call come through on his cell phone. It was quick and to the point. He didn't say a word in response and hung up. It felt as though the man on the other end had no need for any verbal response at that time anyways. Though admittedly it wasn't everyday he had the FBI requesting his services. After all, his services were mostly used to avoid such company as the FBI.

Sitting in the front seat of his Audi A8 he looked over at the clock in the car. He had five minutes until it would be exactly an hour from the call that was placed to him. He already didn't like the fact that this agent already knew his name. He didn't like that he knew the agents name either. In fact he'd rather this situation weren't happening at all. Four minutes until. He took these few minutes to scope around within the confines of his car. He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary and he was usually pretty good at spotting such things. Three minutes. He took a deep breath and glanced up into his rear view mirror as he straightened up his black tie. Two minutes. Still nothing out of the ordinary.

All he knew is that he hadn't even met this man yet and already there was a rule broken. As far as Frank was concerned this deal was off to a bad start. One minute. He opened his car door and stepped out. He casually walked up the steps to the musuem. He lifted his wrist up to see the time. Exactly one hour. Not a minute sooner or later. He stopped at the top of the steps and sat down on a bench. Grabbing the newspaper next to him he began to appear to be reading it as he waited.

60 seconds from the prescribed meeting time, Hobbs strolled out the front door of the police station and eyed across the street. He spotted a spotless Audi and a man of good posture stepping out of it, the man he immediately recognized as Frank. He was punctual, which was a welcome observation considering how much of society took due dates and times with a grain of salt. The agent was especially curious how Frank would handle working on the other side of the law, as it was no revelation to him that the guy worked for the criminal side on probably 99% of his jobs.

Taking note of the area to be sure he was alone, Hobbs walked straight up to the bench Frank positioned himself on. "Frank Martin, Agent Hobbs." He said in simple terms and extended his hand towards him. "Appreciate you showing. I understand this may be suspicious for you, but I got a hell of a deal for you." He said while no one was within earshot.

Without looking up from the paper or moving his hand to meet the agents Frank spoke up, "I've just now met you and already we have a broken rule. While I'd say this goes far beyond the parameters of how I work I'd also say that this isn't my usual job." Frank put the paper aside and looked up towards the agent. He shook his hand out of simple manners. He gave a very coy grin thinking at how this agent must view him. Nothing but a criminal. There were the few that knew of his services, but before performing such services he belonged to special forces. He wasn't always a criminal.

Frank then got to his feet. He began walking and figured the agent would get the idea to move along with him. "Alright. You give me the details that are necessary for me to know and I'll let you know if I find the terms acceptable or not." Frank couldn't help but hear the man out. Not only was it something different that might make his career a touch more exciting, but it sounded as though the pay was decent.

"The only rules that you need to worry about are mine." Hobbs said very assertively with steel eyes focused on Frank. "You'll find that going by your own code with me will only lead to a hard time." The agent was already questioning if this guy was actually reliable for the job. He knew there would be no alliances made, but Hobbs did get the impression that no matter who he made a deal with, he would carry through on his end. Time will tell if the belief of Frank would withstand.

Hobbs walked parallel along Frank and listened to his words. At least this was going to be clear cut, so it seemed. "Stephano Dieseli. You may have even heard of him. He's a mobster in this part of the world, runs the biggest crime organization on the west coast. Tomorrow night, we're going to take him and the rest of his nutjobs down. Your job is drive me and two of my men to the prescribed location, and be ready if Dieseli makes a run for it. Last time the LAPD had an encounter with this fool, he was shuttled away in a Mercedes, and left them for dust. This cannot happen again." Hobbs stopped and turned to face Frank. "I expect they'll try this again. They'll try to escape by any means necessary. If they make it that far, you're the one who will drive my men and I in pursuit, and stop this guy. Pay is twelve thousand, if it gets to another level, we'll talk about additional compensation."

Frank stopped walking to look at the man. "You see agent, that is where you have it all wrong. It's apparent that this job requires someone with a certain expertise and finesse. That certain expertise and finesse I just so happen to have. Now if you truly want my help then you'll go by my rules. The one and only reason my jobs have such high success is due to following these rules to a tee. First rule that I'm going to make very clear from here on out. No names. I don't care who is involved. No names. Also if you were thinking otherwise, it will be my car we take. Just be respectful. I don't have many rules agent, but the few that I do have I value very highly."

He began walking again. "I'm not your run of the mill getaway drivers. I'm a professional." Now that he had said what he needed he waited for the agent to make a rebuttle. He could almost swear that this agent was going to take much of anything sitting down and Frank didn't care too much for that.

Hobbs didn't like the sound when you started talking about rules, but as it turned out, his rules were simple, and respectable. He didn't want a paper trail, and he demanded respect. Fair enough. " Very well, just don't get the idea you're the sole man in charge. I hope you have a capable car." He raised a brow as it was intended to be a serious question. There was no room for chances here.

Hobbs had to chuckle at the man's tone, along with his word choice. People like this always liked to call themselves professionals, that's one thing he picked up over the years. "A professional, huh? A professional in what, whisking criminals out of the law's grasp? Yeah, that's a professional job alright." He said in a slightly challenging matter. "Whatever you want to call yourself, you can feed your ego on the fact that I chose you because of your track record I've heard about through the grapevine. You wouldn't be talking to me if you were run of the mill."

"Capable?" Frank laughed quietly under his breath. "Plenty of capable cars out there. I just like the way mine feels on the road. Not to mention my radio stations are already programmed." This was more of a mockery to the idea that he would think to drive a car that wasn't capable of his profession. Not to mention a driver like Frank could make just about any car capable. Frank pulled out a pair of aviator sunglasses and put them on. He started to walked out towards the street before stopping. "You obviously already know how to get ahold of me, so I assume I'll be hearing from you when you're ready. And another thing agent, from now on, just refer to me as the Transporter. Like you said. Paper trails."

Frank began walking across the street as his Audi beeped once from being unlocked. He opened the door and climbed in the driver seat. He started up the car and drove off. He wasn't too sure how he really felt about this job either. It wasn't his usual point A to point B. There was a lot of risk involved in it. After all, this job was to go against one of the biggest and most powerful men on this side of the world. Though the challenge might be just what he needed in his life right about now.

Hobbs let out a huff at what he perceived was Mr. Martin's attempt at subtle comedy. He certainly had a big head, whether that would prove useful or not in crunch time remained to be seem. The agent had a sense of confidence in him though. He was genuine, lived by his own code, and didn't come off in anyway as a sellout. All important qualities, that didn't necessarily mean though that Hobbs liked or respected him at a personal level.

"You'll be hearing from me tomorrow evening. Be ready." He said as he stood and watched the self-proclaimed "transporter" step into his German saloon. Now he had things in line, and completed his game plan. It was time to put this all into action, and carry out the biggest takedown of his career.

OOC: Might have to wait a bit now until things get taken care of in our other thread...then it's game on