Finally, I finished and posted this next chapter. Thank you to everyone for your reviews, I really appreciate that.
I'd also like to say thank you to BregoBeauty for Beta reading (I'm so grateful for you taking the time) and to my Hubby who listened while I enthusiastically read this newest chapter to him. Mind you, I was reading this chapter to him while he was restringing and tuning his guitar, so I'm wondering how much he truly was listening. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Red Eye.
Chapter 3:
"Ma'am, are you in danger right now?" the woman asked urgently over the phone. The emergency dispatcher had just listened to Lisa explain a brief but concise description of her unwilling exploits with Jackson Rippner. A terrorist operative, as Lisa described him.
"Ummm – no," Lisa said hesitantly, turning to look out the window again, ensuring that there was no sign of Jackson.
"Ok - units will be on their way but there could be a slight delay due to the critical situation downtown. Please lock your doors in the meantime."
"I understand – wait! I don't feel comfortable knowing that this can be delayed. I'll drive myself to the station and leave right now."
"If you're ok to do so, then I'll notify the Miami Police Department that you're on your way. Are you absolutely sure about this Ma'am?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she responded with a slight agitation to her tone, by being asked the classic 'are you sure' question.
"If you change your mind, call us back immediately."
"I'll be fine and thank you for your assistance."
Lisa hung up the phone and turned to find her keys. Not seeing them, she furrowed her brows, trying to remember where she placed them. Suddenly, hearing her phone ring made her spin around in a panic, while grabbing her chest. She finally felt as if the shock of her hellish night of pain and suffering inflicted by Jackson was now creeping up on her.
She quickly picked up the phone, thinking it was the dispatcher calling her back. "Hello," she asked anxiously, realizing that she had begun shaking.
"Lisa, its Dad - thank heavens your home. I've been trying to call you on your cell phone. Have you heard what's happened at your hotel?" he asked excitedly.
"Yes, I know," she said, closing her eyes to the comfort of hearing his voice. "Look Dad, I need you to meet me at the police station downtown as soon as possible." She placed the knife that she had grabbed earlier on the table next to the phone, and gripped her open hand in a tight fist, trying to control her shaking.
"Why, what's wrong?"
"I'll explain everything there, but I need to get myself out the door and get there fast."
"Lisa, you're worrying me – "
"Everything is fine Dad," she lied, unintentionally. "Look… I need to stay at your house tonight. Is that ok?"
"Of course you can sweetheart, but tell me what's going on – I'm coming over there right now…you don't sound fine."
"No – Dad, I just want to head over to the station right now. I'll explain everything to you once I get there."
"Ok, ok…I'm on my way right now. I'm out the door as we speak…walking to my car."
"I'll see you in a moment - love you Dad."
Lisa hung up the phone, shaking her hands in snapping motion, while feeling overwhelmed and a little light headed. She then brushed her hands through her hair and rested them on top of her head, squeezing the bottom of her palms into her temples, almost forgetting what she needed to do.
"Shit! My bag is at the airport and damn it, Jackson took the other one," she said, shaking her head, and walking straight to her bedroom. "Good one, Lisa, now you're talking to yourself - Out Loud."
She grabbed a duffle bag from the closet, and then started rifling through her dresser drawers for fresh clothes to pack for her dad's house. Shoving what she needed in the bag and feeling satisfied that she was ready to leave, she went back to the living room to look for her keys again. Not seeing them anywhere in the room, she stood in place for a moment, trying to recall where she placed them. "Bathroom," she said out loud again, realizing where she left them.
She promptly headed in the bathroom, and seeing the keys on the counter top, she quickly grabbed them. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror, she stopped to look at herself, and shook her head. "Your life has gone to shit, hasn't it?" she muttered under her breath, trying not to say that little fact too loudly.
Walking out the bathroom, while looking down at her keys, she slammed into something hard, which threw her back in a daze. She stood in shock seeing Jackson stand there, wearing a glove on his right hand, which was holding a small towel.
From seeing the sheer look of terror on her face, he smiled at her, as if trying to put her mind at ease, but what he said next sounded so like him. "Ah…you missed me too?"
Realizing she was cornered, she tried to run back in the bathroom, but he immediately grabbed at her, making her stumble to the ground.
Turning her abrasively around to face him, he quickly straddled her waist while grabbing both her wrists, yanking them over her head as she began screaming. Using one hand to hold her wrists down, he roughly placed the towel over her mouth and nose. Needing to hold her down further to minimize her struggling, he laid his chest partially on top of hers and leaned her towards his side, while entangling his legs with hers. He shushed her gently, as he listened to her faint muffled screams through the cloth. "I wasn't planning on coming back this soon, Leese – I've got an urgent problem on my hands that I need to deal with, so I need your full cooperation," he ordered gently.
Lisa stopped struggling when she felt the strength in her body leaving her. Her eyes were feeling heavy as she looked at him, knowing that she was either being drugged, or that he was basically suffocating her to death.
"I initially expected there wouldn't be a problem with you talking to the authorities after I left, but now I discovered that several business associates of mine have a problem with you doing just that, which has me a little concerned," he said berated, knowing he was talking more to himself than her, by her incoherency. "I assured them it wasn't an issue, but apparently they're not backing me up on that idea 100% and as you can see, I'm a little pissed off…at them."
He watched her close her eyes, but she opened them again, as if trying to fight the effects of the drug. She closed her eyes once more, and they stayed shut as her body went limp under him. He laid there for a moment, feeling her chest rise and lower against his, as her breathing became steady. "I'm sorry about that, Leese," he said tenderly, feeling a little guilty that he was putting her through such misery.
Shoving the rag and glove in his back pocket, he walked to the window, signaling to a figure that was sitting in the driver's seat of his BMW and to a black SUV that was parked behind it. Watching the two vehicles drive off, he walked back and grabbed the keys that she had dropped, and headed to the kitchen door that lead out to the garage. He walked over to her vehicle and opened the trunk to observe if it was sufficient for his needs and to remove any unwanted items that could be hazardous to the cargo he'd be transporting. After tossing a few items out, he headed right back in the house.
He grabbed the duct tape that he had placed on the hall table earlier and walked over to her, binding her wrists and ankles with the tape. He checked her pulse on her neck, and could feel her heart rate beating at its normal pace. She appeared to be fine. He hesitated but then placed a piece of tape over her mouth, just in case.
He picked her up and carried her to her car, laying her gently in the trunk. He looked at her for a moment, noticing how lovely she looked while she was sleeping. She looked exactly like she did when she was passed out on the plane, quite angelic, with the exception of the tape covering her mouth. He could hear her house phone ringing in the background, making him turn his head to hear who was leaving a message.
"Lisa, its Dad. I'm on my way to the station, but the highways a mess. I tried your cell again, but you're not answering. Honey I'm worried, I just hope you're on your way..."
Jackson walked to the kitchen door and closed it. He knew by altering his plans and returning to retrieve her, could be a grave mistake. One in which his associates would consider sloppy in his profession, especially when he had a crisis at hand. He ignored the fact that he could possibly be in over his head with this woman, but even if he acknowledged it, he wasn't about to turn back now. "Nighty night, Leese, " he said, looking at her one last time before closing the door to the trunk.
Less than 4 hours after the Keefe attack:
Jackson looked at the floor plan that were laying over the table, while taking a puff from his cigarette. Growing tired, he closed his eyes and pinched the center of his brow, while trying to concentrate. He shook his head, agitated that he was losing focus…again. He'd been pondering for the last several hours on how to finish the Keefe job, and he was beyond exhausted. Not to mention, that his night with his not so cooperative female companion, had finally taken a toll on him.
He looked at Lisa who was lying on the couch, still passed out. Thankfully the drug he'd given her wouldn't be wearing off for another couple of hours, enough time for him to deal with one headache, and then start dealing with another. He wondered how he let this woman become more important than she needed to be on this job. She was just a pawn in the scheme of things, but now she was more than that – NO - he let her become more than that.
Hearing his phone ring shook him from his momentary lapse of distraction. Realizing the true purpose at hand, he paused for a moment to put out his cigarette, knowing he better have a good enough answer before taking the call. Thankfully he was able to muster a plan together at the last moment, one that he could believe in, to finish the job. He snapped the phone off his belt, taking a quick breath in before speaking.
"I looked over the layout and it's doable – I've worked out a plan," he said, hoping that answer would suffice.
"Is your man ready on the inside?" O'Neal asked impatiently.
"Of course, but I need to wrap things up, before I call him. You're absolutely certain Keefe will remain on the fifth floor?"
"Yes, our intel hasn't intercepted any changes to his location. He just finished up in surgery and should be transferred to Room 515 shortly."
"Good - I'll call you back in five with confirmation that it's a go."
Jackson hung up the phone without waiting for a reply from O'Neal. Returning his attention back to the hospital floor layout, he hit his fists on the table irritated that the one person who needed to cease existing on this job, had survived.
"We'll finish it," the male voice said behind him.
Jackson turned to look at Davidson, nodding his head and agreeing. His dog always seemed to be optimistic on jobs that would hit a bump in the road. Not many jobs did go off track, but on those rare occasions they did, he and Davidson we're always able to pull it together in the end. Even if it meant that he got his own hands dirty to do so. But this time, he couldn't finish the job himself due to the high level of security and risk involved. He knew too much of the criminal underworld, and if caught by the authorities, could be a valuable source of knowledge, making him an even more dangerous man to his colleagues, than he already was. Davidson was a good henchman, but unfortunately he lacked the quick and quiet obscurity that was needed to solve this particular problem. The only option left was to call in a highly reputable and expensive Cleaner. A rogue professional whose one mission was to go in and out of a high risk assignment, undetected, neutralizing the prime target, with no questions asked.
"It's definite that Keefe's on the fifth floor heavily guarded – our guy just needs to get to him without causing too much attention to himself. Our foot's basically through the door – we just need to close it."
Jackson walked over to the sliding glass door, taking a good look out at the crystalline blue ocean that was before him. The seaside condo that he was residing at was comfortable, luxurious and had a glorious ocean view, but he never payed any mind to actually pause and enjoy his surroundings. He was always too focused on the view of the hotel that he could see in the distance, and at the moment the mayhem was still going strong with helicopters and security boats in the vicinity. He did on occasion enjoy sitting on the second floor balcony late at night to have a smoke and a drink, while looking out into the darkness and listening to the sounds of the ocean waves breaking on the beach. He'd sit and mull over the job, and play out in his mind the moment he'd finally get to meet his intended female target. He found those moments to be quite satisfying.
He turned and walked to his lap top, to view the hospital. His second henchman was surveying the layout and was transmitting a live streaming video feed back to him. He observed a high level of security around the hospital grounds but that didn't seem to worry him. The plan he was scheming, would be tricky, but plausible. He gave it a good probability of success. However, the ratio for escape, if the inside man was discovered, could be disastrous. Depending on how much he remembered the ins and outs of the hospital layout would determine his chances of a quick getaway. He was paying the guy handsomely to take such a risk, and the bonus of knowing this guy wouldn't go down without a fight, nor be taken alive for that matter, was part of the success ratio.
Jackson turned to look at Davidson, contemplating again before speaking, "We'll still go with the original plan. Even though the authorities will be expecting us, we need this to be as low key as possible. Keefe needs to look as if he died of his wounds after he's been handled." The clients for this job wanted the public's sustained memory to be of the hit on the hotel, and that meant wrapping this up as quiet as possible.
They both walked over to the hospital floor plans and looked over the layout. Running his fingers over the plans, Jackson tapped on a spot, "We'll still create the diversion here. Due to the confusion, it should give our guy a chance to bypass security and get to Keefe."
"And what if he needs to take out a few guards in the process? Chances are they'll enter Keefe's room to protect him, if they don't go for the bait."
Jackson paused. "If it means our inside man has little choice but to take out some of Keefe's armada to get to him, then…so be it. The main objective is to take out Keefe and finish this job. Let's hope this goes as planned though, it's always best to keep our customers happy. Are we set to disable the security cameras prior to the diversion?"
Davidson nodded his head, "Yes, we're ready to go."
Jackson shoved his hands in his pant pockets, looking at the ground, pondering any last minute details. He knew he needed a shower, but wasn't going to do so, until the job was done. He could just envision the warm water hitting his body, while washing the stress away. He looked right at Lisa and noticed a strand of hair covering her face, and had a strong desire to walk over to her and brush it away.
"This will work," Davidson said, agreeing with the plans final course of action, returning Jacksons attention back to him.
Not wanting to alter the plans further, Jackson nodded his head in agreement. "Then let's get this over with," he said, snapping his phone open and calling O'Neal back.
"O'Neal, it's a go and…"
"Jackson, this cannot fell," O'Neal interrupted. "If it does, we both know what it could mean. I hope we're clear on that."
Jackson pressed his lips together tightly, feeling as if he could strangle the man over the phone by his idle threat. "Is that a threat coming from you or the clients?"
"Always the clients, Jackie. You don't want to mess with these guys…we can't protect you – just too many powerful players in this one. This job needs to end successfully and it needs to end soon."
"And I stand by my word that I'll finish it."
"Then let's pray it works."
"It will, and O'Neal…if you ever fucking call me Jackie again, I'm gonna kill you. Are we clear on that?"
There was a long pause, "Crystal," O'Neal finally said.
"Good…then here's what we have planned for our dear Mr. Keefe…"
TBC
Authors note:
I actually wrote this chapter entirely different to begin with but felt the original version just didn't flow right in order to get to the next level of the story that I'm trying to build up to. So please bear with me as I work this story out.
If you can, please leave a review and thanks for reading.
