Years Old
Ex Cop with a mission
6,016 POSTS & Offline
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Post by Brian O'Conner on Jan 27, 2013 11:49:51 GMT 2
The smoke of what once used to be Jack O'Conners home had barely settled, the fire department secured and cleared the place when a few police officers of the LAPD set thier foot onto the scene. One of the fire fighters had alerted them because he found the unscrewed gas connection, which indicated that this place had been blown up on purpose. Who by still remained to be seen?
"Any casualties?" He asked while talking out some rubber gloves a a note pad. The firefighter denied so he told his partner. "Go and ask the neighbors whether this guy was living alone or who they last saw here."
The man nodded and hurried off. The investigation took a few hours before the police bagged and photographed a few items and took off leaving a nice plastic ribbon around the property claiming that it was a crime scene.
Not much later a whole different investigation took place. The uniform these people wore was much pricier and elegant as it consisted of dark Armani suits and the accent the men spoke in was Italian. "Is he dead?" "We have to check with our man at the department...see if they found a body." "Keep your eyes open, I want this kid. Dead or alive...preferably dead."
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Post by Stephano Dieseli on Feb 2, 2013 21:18:53 GMT 2
That whole day he received the news of his "warehouse," Stephano pondered what would be the best course of action. Instinct was to kill him, but his mind told him there was no profit in killing him. Jack now owed him a massive debt, so massive that Stephano could order him to be his personal bitch the rest of his life.
Stephano himself went back to the remains of that shack later that night to find anything out himself, and if he was lucky, maybe recover some of his belongings. He didn't quite fully understand what motive this guy would've had to double cross him so hard, but he was going to find out, and make him pay.
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Post by Sam Ward on Feb 3, 2013 19:44:53 GMT 2
He was guy for the dirty jobs. Had been for years. Ever since his mother had become sick without any insurance to pay for it. The ex soldier, who had been dishonourably discharged because of his inability to follow orders had lead to a superiors death had no other means to pay for the incoming bills than put the skills he acquire during his military service time to use. In this case for a man named Stephano, who was very fond of his skills. Today was another one of these occasions when he got a visit from the old Italian. It was quite late and Sam already on the couch in his wife beater and sweat pants. Nevertheless the unexpected knock had him up in arms in no time. His barrel soon pointed at Stephanos face who pushed it away with ease and ordered the man, who had just been aiming a gun at him, to sit down. Without questions he followed the order and put the 9 mm back on the coffee table. “What do you want?” “A favour.” “Again?” He knitted his brow as he looked into the wrinkled face. An expensive cigar was lit and clouds of excentric smelling smoke travelled through the small room. “If you want your mother to die…because she doesn’t get treatment…” The gangster left the rest open. “Who is it this time?” A picture was slapped on the table “I need you to find out where this young man dropped my package. He has to either get it back to me or the 2 million he owes me. Let him know he has three days to bring me my money. Make clear what happens if he doesn’t.” The ex-soldier’s frown became deeper. “I need his name, job, children, wife, other family…” “Then find out yourself.” With that Stephano left the remaining cigar on the table and left. Biting his lip the young man watched him leave, then picked up the cigar and finished it. Twentyseven hours later, just after 1 am the lock of Jack O’Conners motel room, which he had rented under his brothers name, got picked and a dark figure moved in looking for his target.
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28
Years Old
Taken by Piper Blair
Mitsubishi EVO X, AO
What's the point of being an outlaw when you've got responsibilities?
1,673 POSTS & Offline
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Post by Jack O'Conner on Feb 5, 2013 0:14:34 GMT 2
Thankfully there were bars that opened late into the night, seedy crap holes that Jack was used to drinking in. They didn’t care who you were, or why you were there knocking back shots of strong liquor like you were drinking water, all they cared about was that you had the cash to pay for them. Tonight, every bottle in his motel room was empty and not even any pay-per-view movie could keep him entertained for more than five minutes, so Jack had departed his shit-tastic motel room and had walked into town to try and find some sort of entertainment at a bar instead. His four day’s worth of stubble and disheveled clothing helped him to fit right in with the other alcoholics until his money ran out and he could actually feel enough of a buzz that by the time he walked home again, he would be ready to pass out.
Unfortunately, his dulled senses didn't register that his motel room door was anything but locked when he pushed it open. Nor did he notice the dark figure that was sitting in a chair in the corner when Jack entered his room at 3:30 in the morning. Dumping his jacket on the foot of the bed, or at least his drunken estimation of where the foot of the bed was, which in the morning he would come to realize was simply the middle of the floor, he lazily made his way to the small bathroom to go take a leak. Thankfully, his aim was the one thing he hadn't lost his touch with, and the bathroom floor was spared a date with housekeeping, thus sparing him a Spanish cursing rant from the Mexican maid.
Too lazy to zip up his jeans afterwards and ignoring the scruffy version of himself that he caught a fuzzy glimpse of in the bathroom mirror, Jack staggered back wearily into the main room, falling face down onto the covers of a bed that was neither soft nor comfortable, but he'd barely notice it anyway. As soon as his body hit the stained mattress that was it, he was out like a light, grateful for whoever invented alcohol for knocking him out for the next couple of hours... grateful that was, until he'd wake up the next day...
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Post by Sam Ward on Feb 5, 2013 1:07:10 GMT 2
The lock was easy to pick and not a problem at all, the fact that the guy wasn't there and didn't show up for another two hours however was. Sam had much better things to do on a Friday night than hang around dark motel rooms and picture every possible torture he could do to this Jack O'Conner for making him wait so long. The aggravation had built up slowly but sure and when the blonde finally entered the room it reached its peak. With his mark 23 in his hand he quietly sat on the chair in the dark corner but his eyes never lost sight of Mr. O'Conner. After only seconds it was obvious how drunk the man was and what an easy target he would make. His senses sharp and adrenalin cursing through his body Sam remained in his position until Jack had fallen onto the bed.
That's when he shot up, quick as the wind stood behind the passed out figure on the bed, grabbed him by the hair and pulled him off the bed. Without a word he yanked him over to the bathroom where a full tub had remained unnoticed and was now being used to dunk the younger man's head under water, again and again and again. He could feel him struggle against his grip but didn't let go for a good two minutes before he brought him back to the surface just to smash the gun straight across his pretty face and then let him slump to the floor. "You made me wait two hours and then go to sleep? Think again, piece of shit." He growled before he stepped back and leaned against the bathroom door with his gun in his hand although he had a feeling he didn't need it.
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28
Years Old
Taken by Piper Blair
Mitsubishi EVO X, AO
What's the point of being an outlaw when you've got responsibilities?
1,673 POSTS & Offline
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Post by Jack O'Conner on Feb 5, 2013 20:11:48 GMT 2
Ah, sleep. How much he loved to be rendered completely unconscious after a long night out...
Jack's head was suddenly snapped up then, a sudden alertness to imminent danger flooding through his system when he was painfully pulled from his bed by his hair. Unfortunately he was still too groggy from sleep and intoxication to really put up a fight, and he soon found his head being dunked under water. Not once, not twice, but three times. The last one he was held under water longer as he struggled in vain.
His lungs began to burn for oxygen about one and a half minute in, and when his head was finally pulled back out of the tub, Jack took a large, rasping breath, coughing out some water. Before he could register what the fuck was going on though, something solid cracked across his face and he sank back against the side of the tub. Already he could taste blood on the inside of his cheek, something he was strangely grateful for since it offered an alternative to the sour taste of booze that was lingering from last night. However, one look at the intruder along with the gun he was holding, and Jack knew that a split lip was going to be the least of his worries.
"You're not from housekeeping..." A small groan escaped him as his cheek stung, but it helped him to wake up and once he'd shook the drowsiness away, everything became more clear. Too bad clarity meant he was in a shit-load of trouble right now. He'd much rather see fifty-five year old Rosalita from housekeeping standing over him with some kinky ideas on her mind than this guy, who he sure as hell hoped wasn't planning on doing anything kinky...
"You're one of Dieseli's, aren't you. Does your momma know you're out this late?" The name had rolled off Jack's tongue with revulsion. He should have known that sticking around wasn't a smart idea, and that he'd be tracked down by one of Dieseli's men sooner or later. 'Il grande capo' had eyes and ears everywhere, hired guns as easily bought as cops bought their donuts to do his dirty jobs. And clearly that was all he was to this motherfucker.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the man was standing on one of those little bathroom rugs (thankfully he hadn't gone for the cheapest of cheap motels). Even in his state, Jack was quick to act, grabbing the edges with both hands and pulling the rug out from under the guy's feet, scrambling to reach for the gun the man dropped in his fall...
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Post by Sam Ward on Feb 6, 2013 8:47:45 GMT 2
Sam have to give the guy three things: He has a sense of humor even under bad circumstances, he couldn handle himself even if he was piss drunk and he surprised him, which was rare.
While he was waiting for O'Conner to catch his breath enough to realize what was going on, he could feel the carpet fly our under his feet and size this was no magic lala land it meant that this guy was actually putting up a fight. Hitting the floor with a quick thud he felt the gun slip from his grip, which was the worst thing that could happen when you're a hitman. Instantly he scrambled for it but the blonde already had his hands on it so all Sam could do was kick Jack's hands with the sole of his shoe and make sure the gun slid as far away as possible. Just to make sure Jack wasn't reaching for it again he gave him another kick, this time to the side of his face before he rolled over and grabbed him with both hands. "I like your sense of humor but it's enough now." He said through gritted teeth. Both of his hands wrapped around Jack's throat to make sure he had his attention. "Since you already know who send me you should open you ears! The old man wants his shipment back. What kind of a dumbass loses Dieseli's shipment?" He glared down at the guys red face. "You have three days to give him his stuff back or his money."
He paused to make sure Jack had gotten everything. Then he pulled a printed out picture of the newborn twins and slapped it on the bathroom floor next to the younger man's head. "You'd better make sure to come through with that money if you want to see these two grow up."
Sam kept a straight face even though the fact that Dieseli might send him to kill two babies was getting to him. He would do all sorts of crap for the man but going after helpless children was more than he could handle.
His hand was still on the drunk's windpipe but eased off a bit when he demanded. "There will be no more warnings. Nod, if you understand."
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28
Years Old
Taken by Piper Blair
Mitsubishi EVO X, AO
What's the point of being an outlaw when you've got responsibilities?
1,673 POSTS & Offline
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Post by Jack O'Conner on Feb 7, 2013 23:49:23 GMT 2
Just as easily as he had gotten his hands on the gun, Jack lost it again thanks to a quick kick to his hands. It clattered away from him, sliding just out of his reach behind the behind the toilet. So close and yet so fucking far away... Still, it was his only hope if he wanted to get the upper hand.
Jack reached for the gun again, but this time his attacker was quicker than he was. The man's foot shot out again, this time hitting the side of his face, and more blood pooled inside his mouth when the impact split the inside of his cheek. The kick stunned him, but not enough to keep him from feeling two hands wrap around his throat in a vice grip, cutting off his air supply for a second time. Damn it, call him crazy, but he liked his oxygen. Unfortunately, any attempt at at least loosening the grip around his windpipe proved to be mostly pointless; half of his strength seemed to have taken a temporary vacation thanks to the combination of the blow to his head and the hefty amount of alcohol he's consumed earlier that night.
"If the old man wants his shipment back, maybe he should check the bottom of the ocean," Jack managed to wheeze out, grinning a bloodied grin despite the dire situation he currently found himself in. Perhaps flippancy and defiance weren't the right responses to the threat level, but they were all he had. In any case, the guy could only kill him once anyway.
All other sarcastic, belligerent comments died on his lips though, when a picture with two newborn babies on it was smacked on the bathroom tiles next to his head. Even though he hadn't even seen them in the flesh yet (oh yeah, he was totally already aiming for the 'uncle of the year' award), Jack instantly knew the babies on the picture were his niece and nephew. He was many things, but he would never ever let anyone else pay the price for the shit he had gotten himself into. Especially not his family.
And so Jack nodded, indicating that he understood. Three days was a short deadline, but he'd be literally damned if he couldn't find a way to get out from under Dieseli's thumb, preferably alive...
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Post by Sam Ward on Feb 8, 2013 0:52:19 GMT 2
The smart comments quickly died down when Jack was presented with a picture of his niece and nephew, which instantly seemed to bring him to his senses. Still pinning the man down by his throat but easing the grip enough for him to breath Sam smirked at his success. "Good." He then fished with his other hand behind the toilet to grab his gun and get up. The photo remained on the floor next to the poor bastard, who had only three more days to live. Sam tapped his foot on it and remarked. "Keep it. You might not get to see any more pictures of them." With that he shoved the gun back in his belt because he was pretty sure Jack wouldn't try anything and nobody outside the hotel room needed to see it.
Slwoly Sam retreated out of the room but shot one glance back at Jack. "Don't try anything stupid if you don't want anybody to die." With that he turned and left the room relieved that todays assignment had gone very smoothly with not a single scratch on him. It was like straight out of the good assassins handbook. Step one completed. Hopefully the little asshole had only stashed the shipment somewhere and make step two unneccessary.
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