Everything was in it's place. There were twenties, then tens, then fives. Then came his passport, his printed ticket, and finally a folded scrap of newspaper. Only fragments of the headline were visible; "woman fou/ ruled sui-"

He didn't need to take it out. He knew what it said.

This was a new day, and a new assignment. He inhaled the stale, swampy air, glad to be leaving. Glad to have a job to do.

Once he boarded the train (minimal security, that was a relief), he wandered through the cars until he found the girl. She looked just like her picture; Long, tumbling black hair; pale, fragile-looking skin. Everything about her looked fragile. The boss was right; this would be extremely easy.

Then she looked up at him. It was just for a moment; they made eye contact, then she looked away quickly as if she were slightly embarrassed. But in that moment, he saw that her eyes were a very specific shade of green. It made him irrationally angry; so much so that he decided to continue through the train cars, returning only when he felt that he was truly in control of the situation.

Julie was anxious for the train to depart. She wanted to get back home and taste the salt in the air. She was sick of Saint Charles with it's liquid heat that pressed down on your lungs as you tried to breathe it in. She set up all of her things; her book was in the pocket in front of her seat; her iPod sat in the cup holder. Her purse was sitting in the next seat and her suitcase was over her head.

"Excuse me-" A man was standing over her; the same man she had seen in this car a few minutes before. His sudden reappearance made her jump.

"Oh!" she stammered, looking down.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-"

"No, it's okay." He flashed her a winning smile.

"I was just wondering if this seat was taken?"

"No, go ahead" she quickly grabbed her purse and stowed it under her seat to make room. He slid in next to her with ease.

"So, where are you headed?" Julie asked.

"Don't know." The man shrugged. She was taken back.

"Well, where did you buy a ticket to?"

"It's not important."

"So are you just, what? Riding for pleasure or something?" Julie laughed.

"I'll get off when I feel like it." He spoke as if this was a normal thing to do.

"But… but you know that this train has a set route, so you won't really be surprised, no matter where you get off, plus they'll announce it…"

"I know how trains work. I'm just feeling impulsive today."

"But, then what? What are you going to do?"

"I'll figure it out." He smiled at her again. His eyes, though hidden behind glasses, were disarming. Again, she looked away quickly.

"That makes absolutely no sense." She said in a small voice.

"Well," he began slowly, "maybe I see it as an adventure."

Julie eyed him skeptically before looking back at the window. She considered putting her headphones in, sending a passive-aggressive message.

"What? What are you thinking?" he sounded genuinely interested, and she felt compelled to answer him.

"Well, it's just that adventure… well, to me, adventure isn't really Amtrak, you know?" she explained while gesturing to the window. She hadn't even noticed that the train was now moving.

"What is an adventure to you?" he sounded almost suggestive. Julie chose to ignore this.

"If I were to go on an adventure, I'd start in a port town. Near the ocean."

"As opposed to the port towns that aren't near the ocean?"

Julie gave him a look. She didn't enjoy being mocked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are we not at the joking stage yet?" his eyes were still smiling at her. She laughed, despite herself.

"So you'd go to a city near the ocean. Any particular place in mind?"

"Umm, I don't know, I haven't thought about it in great detail or anything."

"How about Santa Cruz?" Julie's smile faltered, just for a second. Then, she regained her composure.

"Why Santa Cruz?"

"Isn't that where you live?" his tone remained light and conversational. It sent chills down her spine.

"No," she lied. A small voice in her mind replayed her father's warnings, the ones she had always dismissed.

"So if I took your cell phone out of your purse right now, and looked up "home", the number wouldn't have an 831 area code?" This was a game to him, and she could tell he was enjoying the slow reveal.

"You're kinda freaking me out." She tried to maintain an innocent expression.

The man smiled sincerely. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He looked around conspiratorially. "Come here."

Julie hesitated, instead unconsciously moving away from him. He smiled wider, and then gently but forcefully pulled Julie by the arm, moving her closer to him.

"You see this?" his voice was lower now, slightly raspy. With his free hand, he opened the flap of his messenger bag, which was resting against his knees. Julie took one look inside, and then clamped her eyes shut. The man said nothing. When she opened them again, she began looking around for other passengers, or maybe a ticket-taker.

"There are very few people on this train with us. There is no one else in this car." It was like he was reading her mind. She felt invaded, in every sense of the word.

"Now I'd like to keep this-" he tapped his bag with his shoe, "between you and me, but in order for that to happen, you need to keep quiet, okay? You wouldn't want to drag anyone else into this, would you?" Her father had been right. She was supposed to be careful, but she had slipped.

Julie shook her head. Tears flew from her face, one landing on the man's shirt.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Do you know what your father does, Jules?" he used her name, removing any doubt that he knew exactly who she was.

"He's a lawyer."

"Tsk tsk tsk." Julie watched his lips purse around the sound. "He's not a lawyer, Jules, he's a legal advisor. Surely you know this. He has many influential clients and, unfortunately, many more influential enemies."

"I don't know anything about that, please. I won't be any good for you."

"It's not about what you know. I have a client who would like to get a point across to your father, and he thinks the best way to do that is through you." Fear trickled down her spine. It was a heavy, unavoidable thing. She felt her skin go cold.

"Let's talk about something else. Let's talk about what happens next."He looked out the window, exhaling in faux-earnestness. His hand was still wrapped around her forearm. "Wouldn't you like to know what happens next?"

Julie kept quiet, her breathing erratic.

"We're going to wait until dark, and then we can get off anywhere. My ticket is for the last stop, and you're not supposed to get off until California, so no one will ever know if we just disappear at some anonymous town. No one would ever know where to look for us."

Julie shook her head vigorously. Her hair stuck to her wet face. He was pulling her so close to him, speaking so softly, that she could feel the subtle movements of his body. He was warm, and the smooth fabric of his clothes were brushing uncomfortably back and forth across her skin. He smelled expensive and dangerous at the same time, like soap and liquor. When he spoke, his breath ran across her face, making her slightly sick. But her free hand was trying to reach her back pocket without being noticed. Her fingers had almost closed around her cell phone.

"Don't worry, Jules, I have a very specific itinerary I'm sticking to. You just need to sit tight, and not try anything heroic" his eyes flashed a warning at this word, and he tightened his grip around her arm. She winced, recoiling from the pain before meeting his eyes.

For a second, he seemed stunned. His expression flickered, mutated, and his fingers relaxed slightly. Then, just like that, he was back, and angrier than ever.

"I know you, though. I've seen you, and you're not going to try anything."

"Please, I promise I won't say anything, to anyone, I won't, I won't." her voice broke on the last word, but she had finally gotten a purchase on the phone, and she was waiting for the right moment to shift her weight so that she could pull it out. Still, she was terrified to try it, terrified he would catch her and she would lose her only chance.

Julie avoided looking the man in the eye again, but she took in his thin frame, his tailored clothing, and a swath of pink, shriveled skin in the center of his neck. The scar rose and fell with his breath. Something about this image made him seem more dangerous, and a sob rose in her throat. She tried to swallow it, but it clawed it's way through, and a horrible, ragged sound escaped her lips. The man turned to her sharply, leaning into her space.

"What did I tell you about keeping quiet?"

Julie couldn't help it then, she collapsed into even louder sobs. The young man sighed, irritated, and then rummaged in his bag. Julie grew even more hysterical, trapped between her captor and the window. He sat up, holding a small orange bottle of pills.

"Take one. I promise you'll feel better, and this will all go faster."

"Please, I won't tell anyone, please, please-"

"Just take the fucking pills!"

Julie couldn't even form complete words. She could only focus on breathing, focus on her one lifeline, still stuck in her pocket. The young man sighed again.

"You know, I really didn't want to do it this way, but you've forced my hand."

He reached down into his bag again. Julie watched in horror as he reappeared with a wet piece of cloth lying limply across his palm. Before she could react, the young man pressed the cloth over her nose and mouth, and then pushed her face into his chest. She struggled against him for a few seconds before wilting in his arms. He stroked her hair, and from an outsider's perspective, it would appear as an intimate embrace.

Jackson calmly repositioned her into a more conventional pose before checking her heart rate on her neck. Satisfied, he reached over her body for her iPod.