Finish the Job
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Summary: Jackson Rippner wants revenge for what Lisa has done to him. He devises an elaborate scheme to torment and kill her, but he begins to question whether or not he can finish the job.
Chapter One
Jackson Rippner listened intently to what the young woman was saying in the seat on his right. She was beautiful and no one would have believed that she was his latest victim to terrorize. He was a manager of high-profile assassinations and government overthrows. His assignment was to strong-arm Lisa Reisert into making a single phone call or else his associate would kill her beloved father. So far, even with the threat of her father's death, she had been nothing but an uncooperative little bitch. At least the call had finally been made and the plane flight was almost over.
"…Ever since, I've been trying to convince myself of one thing over and over…" said Lisa, her voice disturbed by the admittance of her past.
"That it was beyond your control…" Jackson said, finishing her sentence.
"No, that it would never happen again."
The seatbelt sign flashed, catching his eyes, distracting him. She used the opportunity to ram a pen into his throat in an attempt to escape.
Jackson's icy blue eyes shot wide open and his throat was on fire. He could feel the tip of the pen in his windpipe, which made it incredibly hard to breathe. Oh, how it burned and the burning in his throat was akin to the deep hatred he felt towards the defiant bitch who had given him this impromptu tracheometry.
As a reflex, he swiftly grabbed her ankle as she clamored over him, trying to escape his wrath. He yanked the delicate foot and knocked her to the ground. He watched her crawl away as he stumbled from the seat, following her. She could royally fuck up his plan if she got away. Not that she would get away.
The pain. The intense, fiery pain was obscuring his male-driven, fact-based logic and his common sense. All he wanted now was to slowly kill Lisa for what she had done to him.
Jackson chased her, until one of the passengers—the annoying blonde who was trying too hard to look young and enjoyed hitting on him—noticed his injury as he crawled after his prey.
"We need help back here!" cried the blonde, catching sight of the pen still lodged in his throat.
Shit. He was dead unless he caught her soon. It would only take a matter of minutes for her to bring the entire plan crashing down. He could not let that happen.
He pulled himself up from the ground and shuffled back to the bathroom. There, he glared into the mirror, which he had scrubbed a pathetic help message from Lisa off earlier. It was a goddamn Frankenstein pen in his throat.
"…We have a doctor for you," said a flight attendant, clearly shocked by Jackson's throat piercing.
"Don't speak; you wouldn't want to damage your vocal cords. Oh, it doesn't look too bad. Just the windpipe actually," said the doctor quickly—the nuisance who had helped Jackson meet Lisa. Jackson growled and grabbed him tightly. "It's not dangerous really. No, don't!"
The pain was too much. Jackson ripped the pen from his throat, ignoring his half-uttered warning. He tossed the loathsome object to the ground and his right hand flew up, and firmly clamped down over the wound. He tried to alleviate the pain by adding pressure. It helped, a little.
Jackson rushed through the empty aisles until he tripped and fell.
Now his knees and his throat burned. He shot a venomous glance at the young girl who had dared to trip him. He would have killed her if Lisa was not currently getting away.
He hopped back to his feet and weaved in and out of the various persons trying to block his escape. He finally went around the blonde woman, pulling her scarf from her neck as he passed. He wished he could straggle her with it. But he could not hurt Lisa with one hand and she was going to pay for what she had done to him.
He tightly wrapped the scarf around his neck as he bowled over the lead flight attendant, when she tried to stop him. She was another person he would have killed, provided that he had the time.
Jackson tried not to appear rushed or angry. Which was hard to do, because his throat was killing him. He doubted he could talk much, and it certainly would burn more.
Before he tucked the ends of the scarf into his shirt, he realized that his cell phone was missing. The Reisert bitch had managed to snag it from him.
She was going to die. Both her and her father would die if he could have anything to do with it.
There she was; right in front of him. She had changed her shirt, not that it would stop him. Jackson had followed Lisa for eight weeks before their flight, and he felt that he knew her better than she probably knew herself. There was no way she could hide from him.
Lisa suddenly noticed him and took off. The chase was on and she had the advantage because Jackson was having a hard time breathing and oh, the burning. His throat was really burning him with each attempted breath.
He chased her through the airport, through the crowds and up and down stairs. He began to close in on her as they neared the shuttle. She tripped and fell to the ground. Jackson felt a rush of joy. He was close—so very close!
That was before she hopped on the shuttle and the doors slammed in his face.
Jackson jogged to the window, his breathing heavy and raspy. He glared at her, as the shuttle sped away down the rails, leaving him behind. He would catch her soon. She would not win this battle.
Jackson snuck in around the back, using the key that Joe Reisert unwittingly left under the rock near the back door, allowing him access to their home. They were making it far too easy for him. He waited in the kitchen, waited for one of them to fall into his trap. He could hear their voices in the study.
"I'll get the first aid kit," said Joe Reisert, before leaving the room.
Now was his chance. Joe came into the kitchen and whack—Jackson head-butted him and knocked the older man out cold. He never saw it coming. With a grin, Jackson laid the body quietly on the floor and entered the hallway to wait for Lisa.
"Hi," he croaked, when she left the study and noticed him.
"Dad?" she called, hoping that Joe was nearby and would save her from the manic in front of her.
"Oh, he's not dead. I wanted him to see what I was going to do to you first."
Lisa bolted and Jackson gave chase. She may have home field advantage, but Jackson was quick on his feet and should be able to easily counter anything she tried. He was going to finish the job.
They ended up in the kitchen, at opposite ends of the island.
"You see Lisa? I never lie," Jackson spoke, referring to Joe and to everything.
"Okay, so, is this personal now?
"Just finishing the job," he stated.
"Well, you're too late," Lisa informed him. "Everyone's alive. In that hotel, every single person is alive! What, you didn't know? You failed, Jack!"
"I'll finish the job," rasped Jackson, trying desperately to keep his cool.
"Not in my house!" challenged Lisa before taking off again, and pulling a chair behind her.
Jackson tripped. He cursed Lisa inside his head. Why did she have to be the one who fought back?
Fueled by his anger, Jackson found the strength to chase Lisa through the house. He was going to finish the job. He was going to catch her, and then drag her back to her father's side, wait for him to wake up and then he'd kill her, nice and slow.
He followed her up a flight of stairs and threw himself against a wall to avoid the fire extinguisher, thrown by Lisa. He started up the stairs again and this time felt a searing pain in his left thigh, as Lisa stuck her high heel into it. Then Lisa grabbed him by the shoulders and head-butted him. Jackson fell backwards, dazed, and tumbled down to the bottom landing, where he yanked the offending heel from his thigh.
Jackson stood up and locked the door to the stairs before limping towards the front of the house. No more mercy. No more waiting. He was going to kill her, right now.
He pulled his dead associate over and snitched the KA-BAR from him. Jackson preferred knives over any other type of weapon. Knife in hand, he limped up the main stairs, searching room-by-room for Lisa when a crash drew his attention downstairs to the kitchen. Jackson hurried back down the main stairs.
Lisa was not going to get away. She was going to die by his hands.
He made it to the kitchen, where he noticed that Joe Reisert was missing. Shit. Lisa must have moved him.
"Hey," called Lisa's voice from behind him, seconds before she tossed a green vase at his head.
Jackson shielded his head with his arms, blocking the shards of glass. Lisa took off, heading up the main stairs. He followed her and just missed her, as she slammed and locked a door in his face.
Finish the job. He had to finish the job.
He worked his knife between the door and the jam, attempting to break the lock. Lisa taunted him from behind the door.
"Where's your male-driven, fact-based logic now, Jack? I don't think that's what got you here. Do you hear me?"
Jackson focused on the task at hand. Break through the door and kill Lisa. It was really simple. He finally made it through the door, opened it, and found nothing. Lisa was gone, hiding from him again.
She might be able to run and hide right now, but it was only a matter of time before he caught her. He was going to win.
Jackson slipped behind the open bedroom door as Lisa answered the ringing phone. He would give Lisa the biggest shock of her life when she went to go close the door. She was never going to get away. She was his to kill and he would kill her.
There was no escaping Jackson Rippner.
Lisa was turned away from him when she opened the door. She screamed and swatted at him with the field hockey stick. He blocked her blows and dealt a few of his own with the knife.
She managed to hit him hard in the knee, and then the back, knocking him towards the bed. Jackson rolled away from her blows—fuck, that stick hurt! He crashed into the floor and reached towards the fallen blade, only to have her whack his hand hard and hit the knife away.
His plan was falling to pieces. How was he going to finish the job now?
He got to his feet and managed to separate the fierce fighter from the deadly stick and pinned her against the wall. She struggled and nothing pleased him more. He did enjoy killing more when they fought. Something about the thrill of the chase, the capture, and finally, the death.
"You're pathetic," shot Lisa.
Jackson gave her a sadistic grin before he flipped her over the stairs. She needed to share the pain that coursed through his body a little bit more before he killed her.
Lisa lay at the bottom of the steps, battered and broken. Jackson would have no trouble killing her now. Except that as he limped down the stairs, after reclaiming the knife, she started to crawl away. Where did she think that she was going now? There was nowhere left to run or hide.
The sirens in the distance caught his attention. There was no way he would be able to finish the job the way he wanted to that day. He would have to come back another time. Lisa was not about to get away from him.
It was better to cut his losses for the day and start fresh another time. A time when he could have it all planned out.
"We'll talk again," he said, glancing towards the door.
"Don't move," was all she said as she aimed the silenced gun at him.
He cocked his head and smiled at her. As much as he wanted to finish the job, he did not feel like getting shot today and/or caught by the police. He lunged towards the door and she fired, startling him. He had not expected her to shoot.
With one well-placed kick, the gun flew from her hands and Jackson was back in the game. So much for waiting. He would finish the job then and be done with it.
But Joe Reisert had other plans. Just as Jackson stepped over top of her and dragged her up by her soft hair, Joe shot the younger man, throwing him to the ground.
Jackson lay there, breathing ragged and heavy from the pen. His chest and stomach hurt now from the bullets. He would kill them when he had the chance again. There would be no escape the next time.
Next time, he would finish the job.
Author's Notes:
This will just be a quick story, mainly Jackson-centric. This is not the sequel to my other Red Eye story. That story will be up on Saturday. Next update coming tomorrow or the following day!