Surely the bouncer wanted to be one of the heroes of the night, do the right thing and all but as soon as Jack unexpectedly drew a gun things changed.
The water was still dripping from the barrell but he didn't want to take his chances. Risking his own life or the one of his beloved dog was not part of the plan and this guy seemed desperate enough to pull the trigger.
"Easy, man. There's no need to use force here."
The leash of his dog was tightly wrapped around his hand because the animal didn't care about the weapon in the blondes hand. His teeth were still exposed.
"There."
He slowly held out the phone, then tossed it to Jack.
"Keep it."
Then he took a few steps back and said. "I'm going to turn around now and walk away. Hopefully you're not the guy to shoot an unarmed man in the back."
With that he turned and climbed back up on the tarmac where he picked up his pace to get out of the reach of the gun.

Gravel and trash crunched and crackled underfoot as Jack entered a dark, filthy passageway, going in far enough to be out of street's sight before he let himself slide gracelessly down the wall, one arm instinctively curling around his side as if it would somehow ease the agony inside him. He was sure he must have looked pathetic, panting the way he had with every little movement made when he'd shuffled his way away from the beach. But that had been the least of his worries. His life blood was still oozing out from his gunshot wound, and he had no way of staunching it himself.

...not to mention, cops will be swarming the area soon enough...

Before long, Jack was hit with another reminder to his waning health. He could hear his heart hammering at a wicked rate in his chest, as if it might at any moment explode, while a shiver of raw cold and pain rattled through his weakening body. With it came a sudden onrush of black-spotted vertigo. He blinked a few times in an effort to drive away the thick, cottony confusion, then took out both his phone and the one he'd taken from the dog's owner. He fumbled around with them a bit, both becoming smeared in blood as he exchanged SD-cards. His own phone had taken up more than a little water-damage; he could only hope that there would be enough juice in the stolen one's battery to support making at least one phone call.

Thankfully, there was.

Jack scrolled to his brother's number, pressing send with a nervous thumb, eyes darting back and forth from the alley's entrance to the phone in his hand. One. Two. Three rings. Then he got the computerized voice, telling him the number was out of reach.

Fuck. FUCK. A'ight. Who else. Who else.

Dom he'd never had the number of, nor Mia's--

Cole.

He found the number soon enough, and once again pressed send. He waited impatiently, until finally the other end picked up.

"Cole. It's Jack. I need your help. I'm shot." His eyes moved towards the entrance of the alley again while he explained his location as best as he could to the younger man. Then he ended the call.

The atmosphere of the docks changed when Dom came blasting through. It went from a high stakes game of hide and seek to, well, a chaotic game of cops and robbers. Minutes that felt like hours passed from Dom's departure. He was supposed to wait for his call, right? Well that hadn't come. Cole nervously patted his fingers against the roof of the Corvette, debating what his next move should be.

The docks didn't have anywhere near the amount of cops it had before. Most of the force left in pursuit of the black Charger, and for good reason. Only a couple officers were left still looking over the area for either evidence, clues, or Jack. Maybe all of the above. The police started to shift their searches towards Cole's hiding spot, and he needed to leave soon. Fortunately, he got his answer on what to do when his phone finally buzzed. He didn't recognize the number, but no matter. "Hello?" A voice he only vaguely recognized as Jack's followed. "Damn, alright hang on for a minute." He said as Jack ended the call.

This was the only time in the all of history where Cole actually wished he didn't have an aftermarket exhaust on his car. He could only pray that the sound of the ocean would somehow conceal the sound of the car. With a bit of a wince, he hit the ignition on the ZR1 and it growled to life. Without turning the lights on, he quickly reversed away from his spot until he reached a truck path. He followed that path along the edge of the docks, trying to be as discreet as possible. It was a little challenging to see anything without the lights on, but it was his only option.

Jack was down by an alleyway at the opposite end of the docks. Cole really didn't know where that was specifically but he was hoping he'd get some sort of clue the closer he got towards the edge of the ocean. He kept rolling at a decent but conservative pace, clutching the car to keep the engine's RPM's at idle to make the least amount the noise possible. Nonetheless, he was just waiting for a cop car to file in behind him.

Cole's eyes perked up when he finally saw the entrance to an alleyway. He turned in to it and hoped he would see the younger O'Conner. Thankfully, he did, and sped up a little towards him. Damn, he wasn't kidding about the bullet, he didn't look too good.

Tall buildings left this reeking slice of city cast in perpetual darkness. Once Jack had turned off the cell phone's screen, there was not much to see. No stars, no moon, no light, and no matter how much he willed his eyes to adjust to the darkness, whatever night vision he had just seemed to fail him tonight.

It was quiet as well. Deadly quiet.

Come on, Cole...

Minutes passed before his attention was drawn toward the entrance of the alley again, this time because there was something there, something moving. A car without it's headlights on, and it was coming his way. Jack sat up straight, swallowed hard. Was it cops? No, cop cars didn't sound like that. It had to be Cole.

Much to his relieve, it was.

As soon as the passenger's side swung open, Jack crawled into the car and lay low in the seat. He was still gripping his side, blood trickling over his fingers and probably staining the interior of the Corvette; he'd have to remind himself to apologize for that later...

"Did anyone see you?" he asked as he pulled himself up in the seat and turned to look out the back windshield, wincing a bit when the movement jostled his side. He watched for a moment, his breathing a bit ragged. No headlights were following, nor could he see any flashing blues and reds, but that eased his mind only a little as he settled back into his seat.

Carefully, Jack began to peel away the layer of bloodied fabric from his shirt to try and see the bullet wound. It was a neat little hole and thankfully away from any vital organs, or else he would have kicked the bucket by now. Still, loosing this much blood couldn't be very healthy either...

"How did Dieseli's bust go? Is he taken care of?" he asked to redirect attention elsewhere.

Cole gave Jack a look over as he painfully sunk into the bucket seat of the ZR1. "You look like shit, man." He said with worry evident in his voice. "There's a few microfiber cloths in the glove compartment, if you need them." For a second he was ready to take Jack to a hospital, except cops would practically be waiting there. Nope, bad idea. Not to mention that fact that he was still being hunted by Stephano's goons.

"Don't think so." He answered directly and took a good look out the rearview for any sign of a follower. He was just as worried about the mob as he was cops. Though if they had somehow followed him to the docks, wouldn't they have struck by now? He still drove slowly towards the highway with the lights off, no need to get into a pursuit if it wasn't necessary.

"I was told Dieseli himself is taken care of, whatever that means." He shrugged, with the little Cole knew about Agent Hobbs he hoped that meant he was in custody. "I'll tell ya though, the race scene where the cops rolled in on them turned ugly. Officers down, civilians shot..." He paused. "It was ugly, man."

He decided to leave out the fact that he was still in hot water with the mob, especially now. "You need to get some medical attention."

"You look like shit, man."

It was typical of Cole to state the obvious in such a way that it could only grind on his nerves. However, in this case, Jack actually found himself barking out a brief laugh (though, damn, that hurt), utterly grateful to no longer be stuck, bleeding out by himself in that alley thanks to the kid.

"I admit, I've seen better days," he answered, a completely involuntarily groan leaving his mouth. He could feel the heat leaving his body, and the volume of pain in his wounded right left side was still steadily increasing now that he was no longer running on the fading fumes of adrenaline.

"There's a few microfiber cloths in the glove compartment, if you need them."

Jack nodded and reached forward, though slowly lest the gunshot wound remind him even more who was boss. After opening the glove compartment, he bundled up two of the cloths, pressing them carefully against the tiny hole to staunch the blood flow a bit, and while Cole talked of the bust, he chose to remain silent. Instead he preferred to keep his concentration focused on finding a solution to his current predicament. He also needed all his strength to control the physical reflex to shiver. He hated showing outward signs of pain.

"You need to get some medical attention."

"Yes. Thank you, captain Obvious! You know a place that won't be crawling with cops, be my guest to take me there. Otherwise, do me a favor and just shut up," Jack snarled between clenched teeth. He hadn't meant to snap at Cole. After all, it wasn't the kid's fault he was in this situation and he was just trying to help. But the thought that he was slowly running out of other options was beginning to worry him. All he could think about was that he couldn't go to prison. He just couldn't.

"Look, man. I'm sorry. I appreciate everything you're doing here, but going to a hospital just isn't an option for me as far as I'm concerned."

After another cautious half mile away from the docks down the highway, Cole finally hit the lights on the car and brought it up to speed. Admittedly however, he really wasn't sure where he was or where he was going, he hadn't been in this part of the city yet.

Cole at first was taken aback by Jack's sudden outburst, but in the back of his mind thought that he probably should've expected that. Brian was the same way after all, short fuses must've been an O'Conner thing. "Calm down, you're not going to a hospital." He answered dryly. "Better think up of something though." He added.
He knew Mia had some medical experience of some sort, that was appearing to be their only option. With that in mind, he wondered where they were and why the hell they weren't calling him. "I'm guessing you haven't heard from Brian or Dom? Thought they would've called by now." He mused, some concern in his voice.

Several hundred yards behind the Corvette, two black BMW's were charging hard. The occupants inside were loading Uzi's and getting additional clips ready. This kid wasn't getting away with betrayal and their money. The distance closed rapidly as it appeared their target didn't know anybody was following.

"Shit!" Cole exclaimed as bullets suddenly ricocheted off the bodywork of the rather expensive American sports car. He swiftly downshifted to third gear and put the gas pedal down, checking his mirrors to confirm what he suspected.

Dieseli's guys, damn. So much for a clean getaway.

The power of the Corvette was enough to sufficiently pull away from the trailing German sedans, but now they knew where he was, if they didn't already. The best he could do was put as much distance on those guys as he could.

"I'm guessing you haven't heard from Brian or Dom? Thought they would've called by now."

"No. Tried my brother before I tried you. Haven't heard from him since the docks."

No sooner had Cole turned on the headlights of the Corvette, finally illuminating the highway ahead of them or there was sudden gunfire again. Jack instinctively ducked his head low as bullets tore into the expensive car's carbon-fiber body panels, the movement aggravating his wound. One bullet nearly shattered the back window, leaving a spider-web like pattern blossoming in the upper left hand corner.

"Friends of yours? I thought you said Dieseli was taken care of," he pressed through clenched teeth. In the side-mirror, Jack could see the two dark sedans following behind them. Both were devoid of license plates and sporting illegally tinted windows. Luckily, the German cars were straining to keep up with the Corvette once Cole put the gas pedal down.

Sitting back and breathing harshly, jaw tense, Jack took a moment to pull the cloths away to take another a peek at his wound. Blood was still leaking from the bullet-hole, mixing in with the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. Another wave of lightheadedness and feverish cold washed over him.

Soon I won't need medical attention; I'll need a morgue...

When he pressed the sticky-with-blood cloths back harder against his wound, he didn't mean to let his eyes squeeze shut so tight, or for his lips to nearly curl as he ground his teeth against the pain, nor had he meant to give in to the reflex to shudder. But he had little strength left to keep up appearances.

"You need to... lose them. Fast. Think m'going into shock..." Jack cursed himself for the sound of his own weakening voice, but quickly pushed away the thought to concentrate on staying conscious and alert. Now was not the time to pass out...


(OOC: Feel free to go all out with the chase. I'll also leave it up to you what Cole does with Jack... Mia/vet/ditch(lol)... or hell, the hospital, as I'm sure Brian would love to see Jack locked up... Either way, I'm down with pretty much anything.)

Cole's eyes were frantically checking between the road ahead and the mirrors for those cursed German touring cars. Luckily, they were out of firing range, but who knows who else was on the way now that they had his location. Maybe if he just went fast enough there'd be no way anybody incoming could managed to meet him. That was the only idea he had in his head, so it was the one he went with.

"Dieseli is, that doesn't mean all of his followers are in handcoffs." Cole said in a hasty tone. "Or pleased, for that matter." The Corvette reached 150 mph scarily quick, which was much too fast for a coastal highway, but it was working....he thought. The BMW's simply ran out of power at this speed, and began dropping off quickly as the ZR1 kept accelerating. Though somehow they managed to linger around. Damn traffic.

Everything Jack said at this point was a blur, his focus was holding this thing on the edge of its limit. Times like these he was damn grateful for his days in racing those Porsche GT3 cup cars. All he took in from Jack was the sound of his voice. His condition was degrading quickly, but you wouldn't need to be a doctor to have made that conclusion the moment he jumped in. He could only hope that it was something Miss Toretto could handle, if it wasn't too late in the first place. "Hang in there." Was all Cole could respond with.

Traffic became heavier, and because of it the Bimmer's closed considerably. One of them even opened fire even though they were not quite in accurate striking range. The three cars zigzagged in unison through traffic, and with it Cole could only hope that their speed would eventually lead to a mistake by one of the drivers. He saw a box truck up ahead coming in the opposite lane with a row of car's in his current lane. Not good. The blonde did the only thing he could, and swung the car into the opposite lane, heading straight for the truck. Just as the BMW's were within a few car lengths, the Corvette went hard to the left and practically in the dirt as it missed the oncoming truck by inches, and only clearing a few trees in the ditch by inches. The BMW's quickly tried to follow suit, but the lead car was clipped by the truck as they passed and as a result spun right into the opposite lane of traffic, getting brutally t-boned by an SUV.

"Well, there's one down." Cole mumbled to himself.

"Hang in there."

"Easy for you to say... You're not the one bleeding like a stuck pig," Jack retorted weakly, and bit back the other choice words of frustration that threatened to spill out while he fought to control the dizziness and cold that ran rampant through his body. His hands had begun to tremble, his finger tips tingling, yet despite all signs of serious blood loss, he was hyper-aware of his surroundings as the Corvette zigzagged through traffic at high speeds, wishing it was him behind the wheel. Heh, funny how even now he sucked at being a passenger. Not that he didn't trust Cole's driving skills, but he guessed old habits just died hard.

...Jack instantly winced at the thought.

Dying in any way, hard or soft, is a bad thing to be thinking about right now...

Tires suddenly screamed and rubber smoked and burned when Cole swung the Corvette into the opposite lane, prompting a deadly game of chicken as the car headed straight for a rather large truck. Before Jack could utter a word, or even brace himself for impact, the ZR1 took another harder left, forcing his unsecured body sideways and slamming him into the panels of the door. The pain was jarring, nauseating and extreme; it helped him stay awake, though whether he was currently happy for it, he wasn't so sure...

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

The huge SUV appeared to have suffered little damage by the impact. The side of the t-boned BMW, however, was crushed, the front totalled from where it had been clipped by the truck. But while that one was rendered it inoperable, the driver of the other car was not yet through. He twisted the steering wheel, swerving around the wreckage and hit the accelerator hard, picking up pursuit once more. Shots fired again, issuing from the nondescript vehicle, the strobe-like effect from the illegal TEC-DC 9 semi automatic flashing in the dark of night.

More than one bullet completely shattered the back windshield this time, while others destroyed the back lights and even one of the side-mirrors. Still, none of it was slowing the expensive sports car down, not yet at least...

He would be lying to himself if he said that Jack's attitude wasn't starting to irk him a little. Here he was trying to hold a semi-positive attitude, and yet he could say no right in the younger O'Conner's eyes. Cole didn't have time to think too much about that though, more bullets were tearing through the bodywork and one just obliterated the passenger side mirror. If things didn't change fast, they were going to be dead, plain and simple. Frankly, it was a small miracle they weren't already.

Cole hit another gear and put the accelerator down when there was a small clearing of traffic, opening up a little distance from the black BMW. It was major unknown just how much more of this abuse the Corvette could take, and Cole really couldn't risk another bullet. He looked around for a turn off, side street, alleyway, anything he could use that would maybe surprise his chaser or test his driving skills. A mile passed by very quickly and there was nothing, but at least he'd opened up a little distance.
At last, a decent sized street came up on the left side. Cole wasn't sure where it lead, but he knew it took him off this road. He swung the 'vette wide and tugged at the ebrake, downshifting a gear and giving the clutch a swift kick, sending the ZR1 into a very high speed drift (which surely knocked Jack around viciously) that led into the street. He quickly straightened the car out and put the gas back to the floor, hoping that the German sedan would have it's issues with all that weight trying to replicate the corner.
"Let's see him do that." The blonde gloated a little.

OOC: Your choice, we lose the BMW or the driver pulls out a Michael Schumacher on us

Every little move aggravated his wound. Jack could feel the red-hot pain in his side, but only because his mind was telling him it was supposed to hurt. The only good thing it did for him was that it kept him relatively awake. All he was doing now was struggling to live. Blood loss had his vision swimming, his ability to focus on anything becoming weaker by the moment. His eyelids fluttered as he fought to stay conscious and alert, but even the little he could see at that point was blacking out...

If... if I... pass out now. I'll die...

Jack willed himself to survive, but life was slowly slipping away from him through his fingers. Slowly, surely, steadily, his vision grew narrower and narrower... until his world went black completely.

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

The din of weapons firing ceased for a moment. Inside the black BMW, a spent magazine was ejected and traded in for a fresh one while the Corvette seemed to regain some distance again. Just then the ZR1 suddenly forced a frightening, screeching 90 degree left turn into a side street.

Try as he might (not helped by the fact that the BMW weighed a ton) it was impossible for the driver of the German car to copy the move in time. Braking suddenly, coupled together with a sharp turn to the left at such high speed sent the vehicle careening across the road sideways with a mind of it's own, barely missing another car and forcing the driver to struggle to keep all four of the wheels on the ground. Tires screeched, bravely fighting to keep a grip but unfortunately the road gave him no purchase as it continued it's out of control sideways slide.

Finally, the BWM was violently brought to a halt by the immovable side of a building, taking the brunt of the impact with the driver's side of the car. The rear side window cracked, a sound that was echoed by the driver's head as it slammed hard against the front side window...


(OOC: Since Cole already lost the BMW's in the other thread, I figured this was the best way to go haha. Also, Jack's not dead yet, just passed out )

"Wooo! Hell yeah!" Cole exclaimed as he watched the black Bimmer meet it's fate through the rearview mirror. His celebration was dampened a little though when he noticed a quiet Jack slumped over in the seat. "Jack?" He looked him over. "Jack!" Damn, the guy wasn't kidding about being at the end of his ropes. He reached a hand over and tried to feel a pulse on his wrist, to which he received a very faint pulse. He was still there...sort of.

As was to be expected in this area of California by the docking bays. The found themselves in a small industrial area that was relatively dormant, but had signs of life every few blocks or so. Cole contemplated what his next move was. Getting home of course was the objective. Trouble was, he wasn't sure if it was a great idea to just drive straight up to his house, in the case he was still being tracked or something. He'd gone through extravagant efforts to keep his place concealed from pretty much anyone that had anything to do with mafia or police. He wasn't about to compromise that.

Unfortunately, fate decided to make his decision a little more complicated. The blonde noticed a smell of burning oil in the air. He thought it was from a retired factory he was next to, but then he checked the remaining side mirror he had on the car and saw that the rear of the car was lit up in a flame. "Uh oh."

As it turned out, a bullet had grazed the oil cooler in the rear of the car, which was enough to cause a substantial leak. Now that oil was spilling onto the exhaust system of the car, it created a fiery show. With absolutely nothing to combat against a fire he didn't know what was caused by, Cole quickly drove the car on a beaten up garbage path for the factory which is off and hidden from the main road. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to themselves. He stopped the burning Corvette and grabbed the bag of mob money in the back, registration for the car along with anything that could tie it to his ownership, and a thin jacket to conceal Jack's bullet wound (and yes, I actually do carry a jacket in my car, so this isn't by chance lol). He threw all that stuff outside and then jumped out himself to get over to the passenger side. What a bad time for Jack to pass out. He yanked open the door and grabbed him in between the arms, using the strength he had to pull him from the ZR1 and safely a few yards away.

The fire intensified as now the whole rear of the car was ablaze. It was at the point of no return now, and once it hit the fuel tank....well, it was gone. Cole put everything except the jacket in the money bag and then dialed the number of a private shuttle service that usually made its money taking drunk guys home from the bar. He would say that he and Jack had been drinking at this factory at the end of their shift and Jack drank so much he passed out...yes that would work. Now they just had to get to the front of the factory, where hopefully the burning sports car would be concealed from the street.

Sitting Jack up against a wall, he managed to get the jacket around him and zipped it up fully, hiding the bullet wound. Though there was some dried blood on his pants, but no matter, it would do. He kept pressure on the cloths that were now soaked into his wound, though he really wasn't sure if he was doing it right. He knew absolutely nothing about medical practice. The shuttle would be in front of the factory before long, so they had to get there. He tried one last time to wake Jack up, but to no avail. He was becoming genuinely concerned if he would ever wake up.

It took every ounce of strength his muscles had, but he heaved Jack over his shoulder and just about collapsed himself with all that weight resting on him. Luckily he couldn't have been any heavier than Cole himself. With the younger O'Conner in hand (kind of), he hobbled his way towards the face of the factory, taking a look back to the Corvette that was pretty much toasted. Damn, I liked that car. He thought.

Around 10 minutes later, the shuttle arrived, Cole gave his explanation for Jack while making sure the jacket was still doing its concealing job, and they were on their way. Call it paranoia, but Cole gave the shuttle driver the address to a house about a block away from where his house actually was, just as a final precaution. Once the shuttle dropped them off, Cole once again went through the process of hoisting Jack and walking step by step towards his place. It really wasn't that far, but felt like miles with this load on him. The thought of Brian, Mia, and Dom came back as well. At least they had taken matters into their own hands from Dom's last call, he felt a little strange giving his address to him over a public phone though. Ugh, he was thinking too much, right?