Innocent People's Lives
Chapter Eleven
A Few Weeks Before
"How have you been?" Charles asked.
Lisa glance up from her laptop. "Hmm?"
"I know the campaign trail is rough. How are you holding up?"
"Better than expected. I am getting a little bit sick of flying to tell you the truth."
He nodded. "That's understandable. Travel is stressful. Everything will calm down after the election. At least for a little bit. If I win, Lisa, will you come with us?"
"To the White House? Is that even possible?"
"You're practically family. It wouldn't feel right without you. Promise me you'll consider it. I know it's a big step."
"How could I say no to working in the White House? To working for the President of the United States? Charlie, you don't even have to ask. You know the answer is yes."
He grinned. "That's the spirit. I knew I could count on you."
Present Day
More miles ticked away, every one bringing them closer to a final destination. Lisa still didn't understand why they were taking such a convoluted route right into the hornet's nest. D.C. was Keefe's turf. People were looking for her. Why should they risk it? Why bother driving straight into trouble?
They were heading North again after a lunch stop. It had been mostly silent since Jackson caught her at the payphone. She hated the silence. And the radio in their current ride didn't work.
"Why did you join the CIA?" she asked, quietly, half expecting him to ignore her.
"I was young. Idealistic, if you can believe it. I didn't know any better. I thought it would be like the movies."
"Was it?"
"No. It was a lot of paperwork," Jackson admitted.
"Did you travel a lot?"
"Depended on the need. I speak several languages so occasionally I would be stationed abroad. Unfortunately, my expertise is in the Balkans. So I got to freeze my ass off in Russia and the Ukraine."
"No Spanish?" Lisa asked. She was by no means fluent, but no one living in Miami could truly get away without knowing at least some basic phrases. Having been in the hotel business, she learned a lot from both guests and workers.
"At least it wasn't the Middle East."
She nodded in understanding. A lot of foreign operatives ended up in the unforgiving desert. At least according to the news. "How long have you worked for them?"
"Since I was in college," Jackson said, no emotion evident in his voice. "I was recruited and never looked back. Hell, I barely remember my life before now. I had to leave it all behind. It made me a better operative. They look for people with no family ties. Family worries about you. Family obligations make you less willing to take risks. They need people who like risk. Who seek adventure."
"People like you?"
He nodded. "Sure."
"Why didn't you leave?"
"Why would I? I have lots of money, a pension, and good job security. I have no other life. No girlfriend or wife. No kids. Nothing to keep me tied down. I get to travel. Why not? It beats working nine to five in a cubicle."
"But you get shot at, right?"
"Sometimes. Usually when you're involved," he said with a pointed glance at her.
"You came after me with a knife!"
"Been there, did that, Leese. Stop rubbing it in."
She shook her head in annoyance.
"Look, my business right now is to keep you alive and take down Charles Keefe. In order to do that, you need to trust me."
"I still don't think you're being honest with me."
"Look, I already told you more than I should. This was all classified. My status. The case. All of it. I could go to prison for telling you."
"Maybe you should."
He sighed. "Look, we've been over this before. I was doing my job. Nothing more. It wasn't personal."
"You threatened my dad."
"And you stabbed me with a pen!"
"You deserved it."
"So you say."
She glared at him. "Don't push me, Jack."
"Why? Are you armed?" He raised an eyebrow.
"You wish."
"Look I don't know what else to tell you. We need to trust each other."
"I don't think I will ever trust you. Not completely."
He sighed. "What more do you want from me? To say I'm sorry?"
"That would be a start."
"Well, I'm sorry for doing my job."
She glared. "That's not what I meant."
"That's all you're getting. I can't say I'm sorry I hurt you. Or I'm sorry that Keefe chose you. I can't. It wouldn't be sincere. That's the best I can do right now. It will just have to do."
"I don't accept it."
"Too fucking bad."
"I need some air." She tried to roll down the window crank. It didn't budge.
Jackson pulled the car over on the narrow shoulder and she bolted out of the seat, taking in deep breaths.
"It's not safe out there," he said as she stepped toward the row of trees.
"We're in the goddamn middle of nowhere, Jackson. What could possibly happen? Hmm?"
"You could get hit by a car."
"Really? A car? That's the best you can do?"
"Get abducted by a serial killer."
"Already happened."
He glared at her and she stared back. They were at an impasse. She wasn't that surprised in all honesty. It was happening more and more.
"Fine. Five minutes and I'm dragging you back in here by your hair, like it or not."
"Fine."
She stomped away. The car door slammed shut behind her, leaving her to her thoughts in the mostly eerie silence. She was so sick of these back-country hick towns. She didn't know how Jackson managed to keep finding them but it was creepy.
She wanted to go home. She wanted to sleep in her own bed for once. To just be herself again. Not some pawn in a vast conspiracy. She just wanted to go back to normal. Her normal.
She wanted to get away from Jackson, who was rapidly becoming a part of her daily routine. He was becoming a fixture in her life and she despised it. There was no space for him. She already had a boyfriend. And Jackson certainly wasn't going to replace him. Jackson was anything but boyfriend material. He was her worst enemy. They tried to kill each other and they fought like crazy. They were oil and water.
They would drive each other insane. She could already see it.
She needed to go home. She needed to stop this madness before it consumed what was left of her life. She wasn't prepared for this. For any of it. She wanted to go back to her old life. To before the flight. To before she met a handsome stranger at a bar who wrecked her life.
To when her dad was alive. To when she was something more than a survivor.
She didn't know what she wanted but it wasn't this.
Author's Notes:
Finally got my master outline done. Woo. I just need to stick to it now. Oh, and finish filling in the gaps between pieces. Hope to have another chapter up tomorrow!
