He had always been considered a very influential person. He worked for a notorious organization, held a top job in the notorious organization, and was the best at everything he did. His superiors were few, but even they couldn't control the mastermind that was known as Jackson Rippner.
When Jackson had first started out for his company, a secret organization with many titles, he had proved his worth by quickly making his way up the chain at the young age of seventeen. He started off by managing simple hits: everyday people, a few business men, and the oh-so common traitorous husband. After only three months having passed from starting the job, he managed to score some of the more complex assignments that provided even higher salaries.
As was to be expected, Jackson had been provided with many difficult cases, but he managed to get out of every single one smoothly and without a scratch. Rarely, he'd have to get his hands dirty for a job, but he always came out on top whenever that situation arose. He'd always be the one to come out alive and collect the paycheck that his clients provided. One thing that came along with being so good at the job was that he had a lot of connections.
That's why he had never even seen the inside of a jail cell after failing quite poorly at the Keefe assassination. Sure, he'd pissed off his client and had been jeered at quite mercilessly by those who knew him, but after a few threats here and some assigned deaths there, he gained back his position of power that he had formerly possessed.
A little over four years had passed since the Red Eye flight and his encounter with Lisa Reisert when Jackson Rippner found himself once again in Miami. He had just successfully finished another job, organizing the death of some important person (he hardly kept track anymore), and was heading to a nearby Starbucks for something caffeinated. He had been up the previous night carefully planning his strategy of how to get his assassins in and the man dead without getting caught. Jackson had been a crosswalk away from the coffeehouse when a familiar blonde attracted his gaze. A familiar blonde who had either put on a few extra pounds or gotten herself knocked up, Jackson noticed as he stared at her protruding stomach.
What was her name? Charlotte? Colleen…? Jackson recalled it as starting with a 'C', but he just couldn't put his finger on the exact name. She was one of Lisa Reisert's coworkers; that was a detail he knew for sure from studying the hotel manager for several weeks before cornering her on the airplane. He knew a lot about Lisa Reisert, but not so much of her little, well, not-so-little friend.
He decided he might as well refer to her as Celia for now.
Celia was stepping out of a nearby bakery with a large shopping bag in one hand and was making a beeline across the street and towards the Starbucks he was also headed to. Not fearing that she'd recognize him for it had been a long time since the Red Eye and the fact that she had never seen his face, Jackson followed her towards the Starbucks and had even assisted by opening the glass door for her.
"Thank you," the not-so-tiny blonde chirped, gazing into his crystal blue eyes. She seemed to be in awe over his appearance. He knew he radiated importance with his freshly pressed suit and his stylish black shoes.
"My pleasure," Jackson replied politely, following her in and closing the door behind them. He noticed the ring on her finger, and concluded that the blonde was, indeed, pregnant.
He trailed behind her towards the large line of customers that were waiting to place their orders. The area wasn't extremely overcrowded; not as it would usually be at seven or eight in the morning when everyone was vying for something to keep them awake, but still rather packed from those who started work at a later time.
"You have beautiful eyes," Celia said as she turned around to face him. They had just moved forward two steps. He had been scrutinizing her knee-length white skirt and the brown top she wore. The shirt's color did not go well with her hair at all, Jackson concluded, continuing to examine her. She wore what looked to be a comfortable pair of brown sandals.
"Thank you Miss…?" Jackson figured it would be the best time to learn her name. He even provided the courtesy I-know-you're-married-but-I'm-trying-not-to-creep-you-out 'Miss' at the end.
"Cynthia; and I actually happen to be married," the blonde said in a kind tone before extending her left hand to Jackson. He, once again, acknowledged the wedding band encircling her finger.
Well, at least he learned her name.
Jackson took her extended hand in his considerably larger one and brought it to his lips. He brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles.
She giggled and withdrew her hand, proclaiming, "What a gentlemen, Mister…?"
"Thomas. Evan Thomas," Jackson supplied, cocking his head to the side and grinning at her, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cynthia."
He started speaking with her in a light and friendly tone. They spoke of simple topics like what their favorite movies were, how the weather was – common things that she wouldn't be suspicious of. It took about fifteen minutes until Cynthia finally went up to place her order, leaving Jackson to stare at her back with his icy gaze.
He decided since he didn't have any pressing matters to deal with and that it had been just over four years since his encounter with the fiery spirit, Lisa Reisert, he would follow Cynthia to her work at the Lux Atlantic and lounge around after seeing how things were.
Hopefully the woman who had kicked his underestimating ass four years ago hadn't turned into the simpering girl she had once been when he'd first surveyed her prior to their meeting. That'd be a shame, indeed.
Jackson ordered his coffee and watched the blonde struggle with what she was holding. By the time he had paid and received his drink, Cynthia was only just heading for the door. Once again assisting her through the glass opening, he left her trail off a few feet ahead before following behind her.
He took a sip of his coffee. Lisa Reisert was in for a surprise.