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The ride was waiting; propellers humming with anxiousness and Jackson knew they wouldn't have stalled for much longer. He had wasted time and it could have cost them their lives.
Keplan stood at the foot with an uncomfortable expression that melted into relief as the cab rounded the bend into sight. Jackson knew the man would most likely pick apart some of the details: broken windows, dents, blood on the handles. All the things he would have looked for. But Keplan was about to get a little more than expected with this delivery.
The tires bumped and the passengers followed the suit. Jackson winced, gripping the woman tighter to his chest. He took pains to harden his face, lips as tight as his chest felt. She was strong but he was all too aware that even giants could fall.
Lisa was paler than anticipated as they came under the light of the grounded Pave Hawk.
"Stop here!" he ordered loudly and Hannah was on the ball, skidding to a stop in her well-practiced manner.
There was no urging needed as she practically leapt from her seat, opening the door to give Jackson way. The shimmy was easier than expected and part of him believed that in her state Lisa wouldn't care if her head hit the ceiling. He was careful all the same.
Keplan jogged forward with a look of concern. Jackson was glad the man didn't grin because he was in no mood for smart-asses.
"I can't believe you fucking pulled it off!" Keplan exclaimed.
The woman was limp under his arm and he pulled her closer, afraid to remove his hand from the wound. Her feet dragged on the wet concrete and for the first time he noticed that she wasn't wearing shoes.
"I don't give a bleeding fuck about what's on your mind," Jackson yelled back. His eyes fell to the man's wet uniform. "Take off your jacket!"
For once Keplan didn't argue. He nearly had it off before Jackson had lifted the woman into both arms. "What happened?"
"West," Jackson wasn't about to go into explanation. "Stomach. I need it tight."
He looked to the helicopter as Keplan tied the arms securely around her. The second it was tightened Jackson started walking, with Hannah keeping stride. He had caught her apprehensive look directed at the familiar soldier but he was in no mood to deal with questions that were not his own.
"Medic?" Jackson asked, taking note of the camouflage attired soldiers that remained stationed on the machine.
They appeared all too ready to leave. The men were prepared at least, faces unreadable apart from their assessment. As they got closer Jackson could make out the emblem that defined the Italians.
"Required in order to get to this territory. They don't want to take any risks and you, my friend, have just shaped a rather large debt." Jackson didn't pause but there was a visible flinch. "She looks bad off. How long as she been out?"
"Too long. Just get us the hell out of here!"
"We have a bleeder!" Keplan called out loudly as they stepped under the range of the beating air. Instantly the men were on the defensive, rifles raised, aimed and shouting all around as one of them pulled out a box.
"She's not infected…" Jackson shouted instantly, turning her away from the waiting fire and making certain he was in the middle. His face was angry and he took a step back.
What he felt was panic. "She's not fucking infected! She needs help! Put that shit away and help her!"
Keplan started barking orders with words Jackson couldn't make out. He had always been a little too lazy to learn the language himself and could make out perhaps a word or two but he wasn't in the mood to concentrate. The blond kept surprising him with secrets and it was making him progressively more uncomfortable.
"Jim?" Hannah's voice was quiet at his side and he looked down.
She was hesitant, terrified, but she hid it well. To say her eyes were dry would have been foolish as her hair was limp against her head and dripping from the light rain that continued to. But her chin remained just the slightest bit higher than it should have.
She was a fighter; there was no denying it, and it made him proud.
"It will be fine," he tried to assure her, despite the feeling of foreboding that kept his body tense.
Jackson looked down in his arms and the sensation escalated. Lisa had to get to that medic.
He started towards the soldiers. Keplan was still arguing with one, shouting and spitting, but the other man was already backing down. The guns were lowered and one leaned down to take Lisa from Jackson's arms.
He saw the opened medical supplies and shot the man a glare of warning before helping Hannah up.
The rain had washed much of it away, but there were still lingering streams of red on his arms that dripped into the mud before he entered the rescue carrier. It was hers, he was convinced, and he could only imagine how it must look. Jackson caught one man purposely divert his eyes on contact.
The helicopter shifted under them as it lifted off the ground.
His hand took hold of a handle for support before Jackson allowed himself to look down at the busy soldier. There was no way to tell if more damage had been done, but the man seemed to be competent. It would at least get them to a hospital, if there were any to be had.
The exhaustion hit hard and Jackson fell back against the still material of a seat. He bit down, eyes narrowed before they turned back on Hannah. She looked just about as anxious but her attention was far from the men around her.
He followed her gaze until they both were watching the ground under them, dark and quiet. Jackson knew the girl was asking herself where all the lights had gone, even though logic had already answered for her.
At least now they were heading back to civilization, for whatever that would mean.
++&&&&++
It was Tuesday. At least that is what the papers read as Jackson flipped the page. He was too distracted to care about the details and finally threw it on the magazine-filled table at his feet. It was too normal, despite the chatter of French voices that he much preferred to the Italian.
They had stopped at a base, quickly moving across the water to a French hospital that sat in waiting for the influx of these sorts of cases. He had heard details about the necessary quarantines and cleansings that the rescued underwent, but conveniently enough someone had taken the means to get them by without it. A little cleaning up on his part and no one even questioned.
But that still left him waiting, eyes drifting between the floor and the closed doorway.
Hannah watched expectantly as Jackson resumed the familiar pacing that seemed to take up much of his time since they arrived. She, on the other hand, was more that comfortable sitting in her own disquiet.
When a familiar face trailed into sight it did nothing to better their moods and Hannah was on her feet in an instant.
Keplan had cleaned up also, trading in the fatigues for a crisp pair of khakis and simple black button-down. Hannah almost thought he could have passed for handsome if she didn't remember the circumstances. She didn't like him, didn't trust him, and a glance at Jackson confirmed that any words about to come out of his mouth was about to make them both very unhappy.
"We've got a ride to catch," the blond man informed as he approached without taking a second look at the girl.
Keplan didn't offer any further clarification and Jackson wasn't in the mood to play.
"I'm not leaving until they give the all-clear."
"You know damned well she'll be fine," Keplan's air of casualness was an insult in itself.
"No…I don't." He did, but it didn't settle his stomach. They had still refused to let him in to see her. "And it doesn't matter, I'm not leaving her alone."
"Briggs would beg to differ."
Jackson clenched his jaw and looked away. It was too soon. He knew they would come looking for him, but somehow he had hoped to save the face-to-face for another day. Perhaps one in the far, far distant future. He cursed angrily.
"Who's Briggs?" Hannah questioned with naïve innocence. "Is that another soldier?"
Keplan leaned closer, making a point to leave the girl out of his conversation. She shifted uncomfortably, eyes narrowed.
"Leave the girl here. You know they won't tolerate wandering ears."
It would be his first time meeting with the Organization since Keefe. There would be much to say and even more to account for. Yet his eyes couldn't leave the doors at the end of the hall.
"You know Briggs won't wait. You have just this one shot, Donovan."
He hated to admit that the man could be right, but Jackson had seen what the company was prepared to do. They had no qualms about doing the unthinkable and now he had introduced two new leverages. Lisa was only as safe as he could keep her, and that depended solely on the decisions he would make from this point on.
There was no choice in the matter, only how he would decide to handle it.
Jackson took a breath and released with a sigh of resignation. It was what he did, went to work day in and out like a good little minion. The promises had always rung of milk and honey but the results often ended much less idealist.
"Hannah, I need you to wait here," Jackson ordered as he met Keplan's gaze. There would be no challenging his verdict. "I won't be long."
She was oddly quiet, enough to make him pause with a final glance in her direction. She did not look pleased.
"Who are you?"
The question took him off guard and he cocked his head curiously. Her hands were shoved in pockets but she didn't cower away from him. She was a smart girl but it was neither the time nor place to discuss such discrepancies. Still he found it difficult to be annoyed with her.
His lips turned up in a quiet smile at the thought, "Sometimes I wonder that myself."
"You will come back though?" she asked in a way that made him question if she would ever be able to smile again. Not like that moment under the sunlight of an open field.
"I promise," Jackson replied. It was his word and he hoped to keep up the record.
He had never been the type to get emotional. It wasn't a smart thing to do in his field. Even still, he noticed how the girl quivered with worry. It surprised even him when he moved closer and pulled her into an embrace of comfort they both needed in that moment. Jackson ignored the other man's glare.
"If she wakes up," he whispered against the girl's hair. "…if they let you in…" Jackson let go enough to look her in the eye. "Stay with her. Tell her I won't be long."
He might have scolded himself once, for being so vulnerable, but she was much more important than keeping up images.
Hannah nodded solemnly and Jackson was almost afraid she was going to break right there. He didn't have the patience to deal with her insecurities and took that moment to make his escape, letting go and turning away as his feet took him from the scene. Keplan followed and they made their way down the hall, strides steady and determined, leaving behind a symphony of beeping machinery and hushed whispers.
None of it really mattered in the end.
Jackson glanced at his wrist before they left the hospital entrance. It would have been nice to have his watch back. Then he could have kept track of the time until he was to sign away his soul for the second time. Briggs would expect no less from him.
There was a car waiting for them: black, naturally, and a Nissan for all its irony. Jackson sneered as he remembered the abandoned counterpart. Keplan was the first to make a move. He opened the back seat door and Jackson knew better than to ask who provided the transportation.
"Hurry it up, Donovan." His lips were turned downward and Keplan shifted his jacket just enough to flash the piece that hung at his waist.
Jackson was quick on the pick-up, "I take it this won't be a pleasure trip then?"
"Not if everything goes well."
Keplan slammed the door closed once the other man had entered, and continued on to his place in the driver's seat.
Jackson stared out at the busy streets and surrounding buildings. He had almost forgotten what it was like. Almost. When the car rumbled to a start he turned back with eyes set on the rearview mirror. Keplan was distracted, and with every right. Ellen was not a woman to be kept waiting.
++&&&&++