He leaned up and opened the car door, before slowly and painfully pulling himself up. He was leaning on his uninjured side but still hurting as he did so. The action made his ribs burn slightly, but he knew it was better then unsettling his hip wound again. He couldn't understand how one wound could cause so much damage. He made a mental note that then this was over he was going to brake something of Hectors to get even.
Once seated inside the car he fiddled with the radio until finding a station playing English music, he was sick to death of the Latin rubbish he herd on the ranch all of the time. He didn't know who was playing but they helped calm him, which he was thankful for. He decided to take the ride back to the ranch nice and slow giving him time to organise his thoughts.
After a good ninety minutes on the rood he approached the ranch, so he slowed his sped speed down rapidly not wanting to miss the turn off which was indicated by a single wooden post stood upright in the earth. He drove through and hissed as the now bumpy ground hurt his already aching body even more.
After seeing his place through the darkness he pulled up to it as close as possible, he wasn't going to make his trip inside any harder than it had to be. He stopped the car and was so close to the three steps leading up to his door that he wondered for a moment if he had scraped the car on it, or if the door would actually open. He tested it and it opened, not too far as it hit the second step, but that was fine. Two steps and he would be at his door, perfect.
He looked around and realised that the Salazar's would know that he had been in the car as it had moved. He decided that if asked he would tell them he went into town to get some more painkillers. They wouldn't question that. He grabbed his small black bag and pushed it into his pocket, he wanted to have his hands free while he made his way inside.
He pulled himself from the car and stood on shaky legs, leaning his weight towards his uninjured side. Taking a large step he moved to the door grabbing its handle to prevent himself from falling back down them. He held on with one hand and leaned over, his face clenched in pain and his face in sweat. He stood still for a few seconds too scared to move again, the pain was horrible and he didn't want to inflict any more.
He knew he had to get inside, so taking his weight on both legs he opened the door before grabbing the door frame to steady himself as he moved. He was breathing rapid as he slowly made his way down the hall grabbing on anything and everything to stop himself from falling. He felt pure joy as he finally saw his couch not too far ahead. As he finally made his way to it he collapsed down into it. He was proud he had made it and happy the pain was finally beginning to subside some. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, exhausted due to the days painful events.
He was dragged from his sleep hours later when he herd a loud sharp bang, followed by rapid gunfire. He jumped up before falling back down in pain, so he sat up gingerly and leaned towards the window. Peering out of it into the distance he could see the dark sky illuminated by what looked like a fire, an explosion maybe.
He rummaged around underneath the cushions of the couch until he found his gun, he pulled it out and cocked it. He had guns stashed around everywhere in here, just incase his cover was blown. He looked out of the window once more and wondered what was going on. Was it an attack? He hoped not. If it was, he wondered where his trained teams were now, how they were doing and if they would beat this unknown enemy. He quickly thought about what he should do, realistically he could not go into combat, he could barely move. But still, he couldn't just sit their and leave his men to fight alone. Logically, he figured he should have a while before the people got to him, he was at the other end of the ranch. He was wrong, he realised as he herd gunfire right outside his door, and then the sound of people braking in through his door.
Thoughts rapidly ran around his mind as he frantically tried to think of something. He couldn't fight them, he would have no chance. But he couldn't just sit there and let the men kill him either. He laid back against the couch his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep, the gun now hidden behind one of the cushions but still in his grip. The moment they came near him he would kill them.
The men marched into the room and spotted the man asleep on the couch almost immediately, and were startled for a moment. They had been expecting heavy resistance, not this. The slight hesitation was all Jack needed as he jumped into a sitting position, scowling as he did so, and shot at the two men stood bemused before him. Both went down to the ground and didn't get back up.
He was about the turn around and check the room for any others when a sharp knock to the head sent him onto the floor crying out in pain, not from the new head wound, his hip was far more progressed pain that that. He herd men talking in Spanish of some other language shouting at him, but didn't understand their words. He laid still on the floor and dropped his weapon. It was all he could do, before his head was stomped on heavily by the big man who had knocked him on the floor. Darkness engulfed him.