Disclaimer: I don't pretend to own anything involving Red Eye… I can only lay claim on certain new characters, of course. Though I wish I was involved with Red Eye… Psh.

Chapter Four

Gut Feeling / Oddities

Drake had trained with Lisa for hours on end in that large gym. Drill after drill after endless drill. It helped Lisa to keep her mind off of the danger of the job that Jackson hadn't explained to her. Sure, it was just a quick one. He'd be back by one… but would he really?

"Ah, ah, ah," Drake interrupted, "You can't just hold the knife any old way…"

Lisa froze and looked up at Drake. His still-damp deep, gray, hair was beginning to flare out at the ends like small wings. It made him look slightly younger and careless.

"It's not skills training, Drake. It's dinner."

"But still," he pressed, eyeing her still hand.

"Still, nothing," Lisa said with a sigh, adjusting her grip on the knife to another position until Drake smiled, "Who are you? Jackson Rippner? Knife connoisseur?"

Drake smiled and then picked up a large chunk of meat that he had cut off of the steak he had ordered from the line. Lisa sighed and followed his example. She hadn't had the luxury of seeing Jackson after an assignment. She wondered what it would be like, or maybe it simply depended on the type of assignment he completed.

"What's on your mind, Reisert?"

Lisa looked up at Drake again, now realizing that she had frozen once more and held her knife and fork in her hands without moving. She gently set them down, leaning against her plate, and then leaned back in her seat with a sigh.

"I only ask because hardly anybody volunteers all that time in the gym doing drills unless they need to occupy themselves… and you have that look of worry, like your father."

"I know. I'm…"

She paused and Drake waited patiently for her to continue. She loved that about him. He was accepting, not pushy. If she needed a moment, he'd give her a moment. He knew that pushing someone to their limits wasn't always the best course. Now, Lisa wasn't sure how to word her concerns. What was she concerned about?

"Do people die often on missions?"

Drake leaned back in his chair and took a slow sip of the mountain dew he had filled up.

"Well, people die. It's a fact of life. But as for our associates… it depends on the skill level? Are you worrying about yourself, Reisert, or perhaps a male companion with more experience in the field?"

Lisa smiled shyly at Drake. For some reason she felt as if she was speaking with her father at home, talking to him in code about a boy, though he secretly knew.

"Jackson."

"Ahh, Rippner. I thought so. He'll be fine."

"He didn't tell me where he was going or what the assignment was."

Drake smiled and then leaned closer to Lisa across the table. His brown eyes seemed warm and welcoming.

"He'll be fine, Reisert. He's got plenty of training and experience to last him a lifetime in the field. He's used to it by now. Accidents happen now and again, but… it's rare."

"I've seen 'accidents' happen to Jackson twice now."

"They usually involve you, do they not?"

"Yeah. Well, what if he tries to rush to get back here to see me?"

Drake smiled and then patted Lisa's hand gently.

"He'll be fine, Reisert. Remember that he was trained by the very best in the organization and he has time and experience under his belt."

Lisa nodded. Maybe Drake was right. Lisa had beat Jackson, as had Keefe, but those were just small downfalls after a lifetime of these kinds of assignments. He was perfectly capable of handling himself before Lisa came along. He had survived the years up until then just fine. Still, she wasn't about to head back to her room for hours alone. There was a TV to keep her company, but she simply wasn't in the mood for her old movies. Shooting… that'd be her activity until Jackson returned. Then maybe a little knife work.

"You're gettin' so much better at that," a woman simply referred to as "C" commented in a slow southern drawl.

"Thanks," Lisa said as she pressed a button on the side of her stall to bring the target towards her.

The practice area for knives had a small range similar to the large shooting range down the hall, but it also had a wide area for physical practice exercises. C was twirling a long blade in her hand, playing with the handle and how the light reflected off of the shiny, silver, blade.

"Jackson been teachin' you how to throw 'em?"

C leaned casually against the barrier wall as she watched Lisa retrieve the knives she had throw at the target. They were all very close to the center. She was getting deadlier nearly every time she practiced and it scared her, in a way.

"Not particularly, no," she commented, checking her watch and then unhooking the target. "Mostly Drake trains me."

"Jackson too busy?"

Lisa didn't particularly enjoy being questioned, especially by a woman who hardly ever spoke to Lisa and didn't seem to like her very much at all. She smirked as she packed away the knives Cordin had given her before he left to head off to another site.

"You could say that, yeah," she breathed.

C nodded.

"What's he been doin' with his free time, then?"

Lisa sighed. Enough was enough.

"Does the nickname 'C' stand for 'curiosity'?"

Lisa brushed past the woman curtly and closed up the cabinet of practice knives where she had borrowed some.

"Stands for Cat. Cat stands for Catherine. Not many people know that."

"Then why tell me?"

C shrugged and handed Lisa her target as she slowly inspected it.

"'Cause you're trustworthy."

Lisa tilted her head sideways.

"I'm sorry?"

She slowly pulled the tattered target sheet from C's… Cat's… Catherine's hands and eyed the woman suspiciously.

"I'm just sayin' you can be trusted to do what has to be done. You've got a good head on your shoulders, not yet clouded by all of this organization bull shit."

"And that has to do with you telling me you name…. how?"

Cat smiled, the left side of her lips pulling up to reveal bright white teeth.

"Shows you can trust in me, while a large portion of these people can't be trusted. I gave you a little private, not well-known information, to show you that I'm on your side, Ms. Reisert, though I know you've suspected otherwise. That's all just for show. I keep my alliances quiet." Lisa waited for Cat to continue, but the woman simply bowed her head as if she was tipping an imaginary cowboy hat, and then headed for the door. "Have Jackson work on the throwin' with ya and I bet you'll be destroying that bulls eye by the week's end."

Lisa was about to respond when the door clicked shut behind Cat. Lisa shuddered at first, considering what she had been saying, but then she calmed down. It was probably better if Cat was on her side, even if Cat brought a side of eccentricity along with her. The woman was clearly one not to be messed with. She seemed as if she had no friends, which, of course, was a cover-up. Lisa wondered briefly as she flicked off the lights if there really were a lot of a people that couldn't be trusted… it frightened her that she had no idea about who stood where on the trust scale.

She sighed and brushed her hair away from her face as she rounded out of the room and into the silent hallway. To her surprise, Jackson was standing at the desk, eyeing something Pop was working on. Lisa looked down at her watch. It read a simple 9:45pm to which Lisa responded with a second glance at Jackson. He was in a different suit now, a deep gray that looked nearly black, but he looked fine.

Lisa made sure he hadn't noticed her emergence into the hallway. She'd surprise him and show him just how much she had learned at skills training with Drake involving "becoming invisible". The whole "blending in to your surroundings" part was hard, given that she had no resources, but she could be silent. Lisa had gotten steadily better at that until she was at the same level that Jackson had been that day in Onnie's house.

She crept up behind the two men silently, her weight evenly distributed across her flat tennis shoes. Then Jackson stood. Lisa lunged forward, arms wrapping around his chest and squeezing with all of her might.

"Gotcha!" she shouted.

Then her grip was wrenched violently by rough hands. Time slowed as she considered this. Jackson, hands now freed, withdrew a knife with one hand, and with the other grabbed a hold of Lisa just beneath her jaw, hauling her easily off of her feet. Lisa wanted to scream and kick at Jackson. What was he doing?

Just as the knife was being brought up to the place just beneath Jackson's thumb at the base of her neck, Lisa noticed his eyes. Instead of glacial blue, these eyes were slightly larger and turquoise – a delicate clash between Jackson's blue and a green like Lisa's. This man, while seemingly Jackson from behind, was most-certainly not Jackson. Big mistake.

The man fumed and Lisa clutched his hand. Pop was at the man's side, his old hand inches from the man's hand holding the knife against Lisa's throat.

"Reisert," Pop murmured softly as if he was talking to a child.

The man's turquoise eyes bored into Lisa's as they began to become clouded. Then his gaze slowly shifted to Pop.

"What?"

"Lisa Reisert. Put her down."

The man did as he was told, simply releasing his grip and letting Lisa fall limply to the floor.

"What the hell is she doing attacking me like that, then?" he asked Pop, clearly angry.

Pop simply sighed as Lisa choked for air at their feet. The two men looked down on her. Pop looked saddened, slightly disappointed, while the other man looked slightly disgusted. He looked… like Jackson.

Lisa kept inhaling large breaths and watching the tall man looming dangerously above her. He had a slightly larger build than Jackson, but he had the same hair, shorter cropped, and that fair skin with those deadly-high cheekbones.

"Cole," Lisa managed to whisper.

"Well, I'm not going to apologize," he muttered to Pop, who seemed to be giving him a fatherly look. "She should know better than to sneak up on someone like us and expect to live or not get hurt at the very least."

Lisa nearly laughed. He was just as cocky as Jackson. He wasn't as handsome, at least not in Lisa's opinion, but he was still striking. He still eyed Lisa with a hint of disgust in his edged-up lip.

"I thought you were Jackson," Lisa rasped out as she rose to her feet with the assistance of Pop.

Cole grunted.

"Don't let him hear you say that you mixed us up. He'll never forgive you."

Lisa cocked her head at the man. Now that she saw him clearly, he was certainly taller than Jackson. And he smelled different, too. How she could have mistaken him for Jackson was a wonder.

"Well, don't just stare at me like that, woman. Didn't anybody ever teach you any manners?"

Cole still had his knife open, though it hung loosely in his hand by his side. He fingered it nervously.

"Well, I'm sorry for 'staring', but I like to match a face to the stories."

That statement grabbed Cole's attention. Pop disappeared to the desk once more and Cole sheathed his knife so fast that Lisa wouldn't have even been able to figure out where it was hidden.

"Stories…"

"About you."

"From who's lips? Because if it's anything Jackson has told you, it's probably an exaggerated lie to make others hate me just as much as he does."

Hmm, Lisa thought. Jackson hates him… This would be an interesting reunion.

"Not from his. He doesn't speak of you. It's Jasmine who does."

At that, Cole smirked and seemed to relax slightly.

"Her and my father."

Then Cole became stiff. His skin became ghostly pale and his eyes were wide and alert.

"How… how has he been telling you of me when he's dead?"

"I have his old journal."

Cole physically relaxed in a way that was impossible not to observe. Lisa wondered why he was so anxious about the situation.

"His opinion on the feud?"

Lisa cocked her head, being brought back to the present by Cole's voice. It was slightly deeper than Jackson's had been before she had stabbed him in the neck with a pen.

"What feud?"

"The issues between Jackson and me. I know he doesn't talk about me much, but I would've figured Jasmine would've been blabbing to you about it."

Lisa shook her head.

"No, actually. I've heard nothing of a fight between the two of you up until now." Now it was Cole's turn to look surprised. "My father never mentioned it in his journal, Jackson avoids the subject, which should have been a clue, and Jasmine acts as if you guys were one big happy family."

Cole rolled his eyes.

"Leave it to her to romanticize the idea that we're going to settle everything."

"Can I ask…. What it's about?"

Cole smirked again.

"She said you were overly curious."

"Have you gone to see her yet?"

"She's my wife. She was the first person I went to see. I've been here for an hour. She had business to tend to."

There it was… that nervous look returned to his face once again. His emotions were easier to read than Jackson's, but he was just as enigmatic.

"As for the fight…" Cole shrugged and glanced down the hallway. "You'd best ask Jackson about that one. God forbid I corrupt you with my tales," he commented, looking disgusted again, though Lisa had a feeling the look was not reserved for her.

"I'm a big girl. I can come to conclusions on my own."

"Yes, but come to them with Jackson, not me. That'll be just one more thing to tack on to his record against me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should probably be finding Jasmine and making her sleep or else she'll stay up all night… working business angles."

Lisa watched him turn casually and saunter off down the hallway. At a distance he could've been Jackson's twin. Up-close he made Lisa feel unsure. She didn't feel like she was in any kind of immediate danger, but she felt as if something wasn't quite right. Cole had not been straightforward with her about anything at all. Given her heritage and her friendships with Jasmine, Rader, Onnie, and of course Jackson, she had figured Cole would have been more receptive to her. Instead, he looked upon her with distaste and treated her with obvious mistrust. Something was going on and it put Lisa on the extreme edge. Her gut was teetering on the peak of oblivion, waiting for the inevitable moment when everything would come crashing down.

A/N: Ehh- I know I said that this chapter would make up for how slow I've been with updating, but as I wrote, things changed and I think five will pick up the slack… lol. It's slower getting to the point than I first planned. :P