A/N: Hey guys! Another story that I've had in my head for a while. Please review once you've read it. And I'm sorry that there is no Jackson and Lisa pairing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Red Eye. I do own Marisa.

It was a time like this when Marisa wanted to take a heavy stick and hit her job over the head with it. In the Organization (they never called it anything more specific than the 'Organization') she worked for, it was drilled into all recruits from Day One that if the Organization were to ever come under scrutiny or attack, 'members' had forty-eight hours to disappear.

Case in point: the arrest of Jackson Rippner for soliciting terrorism, conspiracy to murder, assault, battery, and false imprisonment. Never in the history of the Organization had their top managerial employee been taken into custody.

The news of Rippner's failure reached an international level, alerting all 'members' to take the best course of action: Drop whatever you are doing and disappear. The clock was ticking. Though Rippner's name, picture, or other information retrieved by the police was never distributed publicly, any hacker or terrorist organization could find it in a few simple clicks.

Marisa, being the meticulous manager herself, took the first plane out of the States to a safe house in the south of France, where she would await further instructions. It was not the best course of action in her mind, but certainly the safest and most effective.

He was given permission to make a phone call, one measly phone call.

Jackson grimaced at the only phone available to him in his current state: he hospital – where he was slowly, but surely recovering – phone. He knew for a fact that when they had handcuffed him to the bed, they had also implanted a bug in the phone, just to keep an eye on him. But he was smarter than that.

"Hello, mother," he rasped into the receiver (his vocal cords were still sensitive from his forced tracheotomy).

"Jackson?"

"I'm going to jail."

"So I've heard. Nice of you to call. You should have done it earlier."

"I'm afraid that Reisert bitch was a bit of trouble, excuse my language. I called because I need you to do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Have you seen Marisa lately?"

"From what I hear, she's busy."

"Tell her I love her."

There was a long pause. "She's left Jackson. Couldn't stand this place.'
"Where to?"

"No importance to you. But it would be tough to try and contact her. She's disappeared from the radar, so to speak."

"Of course, they've all disappeared."

"Sooner or later."

"Well if you can reach her in the next…" he paused to glance at his wall clock (they had removed his Rolex). Bastards, he thought.

"In the next forty-eight hours…"

"I'll do my best."

Neither said goodbye. Jackson replaced the phone, the watchful eyes of his guard taking it from his hands and replacing it on the far table. If they had tried to trace the call they would have come upon an address in suburbia Connecticut, where Rippner told the police he was from. They wouldn't have to ask too much questions.

Now all he had to do was wait.

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

On the other line, miles away, sitting in a desk chair located in the confines of the Organization underground, Linda, an elderly secretary with graying hair and wrinkles replaced the phone. She had been working for the Organization for over thirty years and never in her career history as the Organization had to enter this kind of pandemonium.

She jotted down a few notes on her pad and picked up the phone again. Dialing the number of her superior, the Boss.

"That was Rippner. He requested Marisa," she told him remembering the series of codes she had exchanged earlier. "My guess is Marisa Hodges, old partners, and rivals," she added.

The Boss listened with a stony expression. "She would be impossible to find. Who knows where she could have disappeared? How much time do we have?"

"Rippner said forty-eight hours."

"That's plenty. Start trying to find Marisa."

She hung up for the second time in the last five minutes without a goodbye. Linda knew that Rippner knew the rules of the Organization and what procedures were taken if they were endangered. One being the lockdowns and security measures that the computers went through on all its information, each level increasing its need for codes and security checks. From what she could tell this was an emergency, so she had to be quick.

It was time for Marisa Hodges to come out of hiding.