Newfound Clarity
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Chapter Thirty-five
"This staying alive can kill you/It's taken years off of my life…If I plead insanity/Can I still crash at your place?...Not tryin' to kill you: It's just proof of life/Not tryin' to kill you: One day at a time…I'm sure she'll be with me until the very end/There are only so many ambulances/The less you ask, the more you see/There are only so many accidents…" ~ Ambulances by Institute
For once in her life, she listened to him.
She knew about his dark side. She knew part of him was an accomplished killer. Since she'd been stuck with him, Jackson only killed to defend other people, such as herself, and innocent civilians. As much as she wanted to hate him, she kept remembering his heroic charge into the bank, saving three lives. She remembered him getting her out of the Murphys' smoldering home. She couldn't forget waking up beside him, her neck bandaged after her throat was cut.
And now, here he was, once again saving her. He could have run and left her to fend off Hamilton. Instead, he risked his life to not only get in the building but to save her.
Lisa couldn't find it in herself to hate him at this moment.
Even if he was systematically murdering another man in front of her.
Hamilton slipped his right wrist free. In his rush, Rippner hadn't quite secured the cuffs around his wrists. His right hand curled together, making it impossible to properly fit the handcuffs. All he had to do was uncurl his fingers and voila! He had a free hand.
Not that he wanted to play his hand yet. He resisted the urge to smile at his own pun.
Once Rippner let his guard down, Hamilton would subdue him. This time, he would ensure that Rippner couldn't fight back. Then he would force his wayward employee to watch his lover die. He couldn't wait to slowly squeeze the life out of her.
With her out of the way, he could focus on Rippner. Perhaps, he could even pin her death on Rippner. A lover's quarrel. A murder-suicide.
Hamilton liked all of those plans. He would enjoy finishing off Lisa Reisert and through her, crush Rippner and kill him. Perhaps he should put Rippner's knife into his heart…
He smiled on the inside, knowing that soon they would both be dead and he would still be the Deputy Director. No one—especially not former killer and a hotel manager—would take that away from him. He stood to make several million a quarter in kick-backs alone from his new programs.
God bless the paranoia of the American people…
Jackson reclaimed his knife as he surveyed the unconscious man at his feet.
Hamilton deserved to suffer for his schemes and all the innocent people who were caught up in them. Lisa, Katherine, the Keefes and their entourage were all pawns in a high-stakes political game.
It was up to him to stop Hamilton's plans. He had the power of life and death right now.
The justice system wouldn't punish John Hamilton appropriately. Even if James Robertson got all of his employees to help protest—even combined with all the public support over Katherine's murder and Keefe's assassination—Hamilton would probably only get a slap on the wrist. He would walk away clean.
Politicians always did.
Right then and there, with Lisa huddled in a corner wearing his coat, Jackson made his decision.
He plunged the knife into Hamilton's left leg, narrowly missing a major artery.
Lisa still had her eyes shut tight when she heard Jackson curse.
She peeked, keeping one eye closed.
Her savior lay on the ground, straddled by a formerly unconscious man. Hamilton had his hands around Jackson's throat.
His thumb dug into Jackson's weak spot—a healed scar over his throat. The round hole had been caused by her. She was the one who caused all of his weakness. Physically and emotionally.
"Get off him!" she cried, launching herself on the politician. He swatted at her, handcuffs dangling from one wrist.
Jackson made a strangled sound, thrashing under the combined weight of Hamilton and Lisa. The hands continued to tighten around his neck.
Lisa knew she didn't have the upper body strength—or any strength really—to take on a man of Hamilton's weight. He was well-muscled and broad shouldered. Knowing her luck, he was an ex-football player.
Time to break out the big guns…
Lisa opened her mouth and bit down, hard, on Hamilton's arm. The man yowled, using his other hand to smack at her.
Crack!
His hand collided with her cheekbone, dislocating her jaw.
She stumbled back, her eyes searching for a weapon.
Jackson used the sudden shift in weight to turn the tables, flipping Hamilton off him. He panted and coughed, his voice rough from his near strangling.
"Leese?"
"I'm fine!" she muttered, her jaw throbbing. She heard another crack as she realigned the bone.
He didn't disagree. Of course, that could have been because Hamilton had punched him in the ribs.
He inhaled, feeling a few ribs protest. Bruised, possibly broken. Nothing he could do about that now.
Jackson slammed his skull against his former boss's head. He ignored the blood trickling down from his hairline and the sudden pain. It was like hitting a brick wall.
Beside him, Hamilton laughed. "You're pathetic, Rippner. Even the girl fights better than you."
He could feel Lisa's eyes on him. She was waiting for a signal from him. A signal he wasn't about to give. He would fix this mess on his own. Even if it killed him.
His hand found the knife again. He flipped the blade through the air, giving Hamilton a quick warning. The man didn't heed it. Not that it mattered—Jackson was going to kill him no matter what. He had to do it.
To protect Lisa. To protect himself.
Jackson buried the knife hilt deep in his side. The older man groaned, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt.
Hamilton ripped the knife free.
Blood darkened his shirt and the carpeting. It didn't faze the politician.
Before Jackson could move or reach for a weapon, Hamilton slashed his right arm. The ex-manager clutched the limb, watching the blood drip.
He stepped away from Hamilton. But that didn't stop the older man.
He lunged at Jackson, who ducked. He dropped to the floor, rolling away from the injured man. His right hand touched his belt, reaching to draw a knife that wasn't there.
Hamilton slashed at him again.
Jackson rolled onto his back, feeling cold steel digging into his lower back. The gun.
He kicked at Hamilton's arm, slowing him for a moment. He rolled onto his side and pulled the gun.
Hot pain in his back. Jackson dropped the gun, looking over at Hamilton. The man was unarmed now, which meant the knife… the knife was in his back.
Lisa didn't bother to hold in her scream. She screamed in fury, fear, and shock.
She went to Jackson's side, touching the knife. Common sense said to leave it in place. As she touched his lower back, she felt the blood pouring out. Her eyes caught a glimpse of metal on the floor beside him.
A gun?
Her hand closed on it. They didn't need to talk—she knew what she had to do. In order for them to survive, Hamilton had to die.
She whipped the pistol out.
Hamilton smiled at her; a predatory look in his eyes. She knew that look well—she first saw it on the face of her rapist. Then, later, she saw it on Jackson's. She was used to that look. It didn't scare her or intimidate her.
She flicked the safety off.
Hamilton reached for another knife, his own blade, across the blood-soaked carpeting. The blade had fallen underneath a chair. Jackson's heavy, uneven breathing rang in her ears.
Lisa barely flinched as she pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
He grabbed his stomach, curling inward.
Bang!
An arm dangled uselessly at his side.
Bang! Bang!
Two round holes appeared in his chest.
Bang!
One penetrated his knee.
Bang! Bang!
Bone shattered as the bullets tore through his rib cage and spine.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Two more shots hit his legs. One hit the groin.
Bang! Bang!
One shoulder, then the other.
Click! Click! Click.
The gun was empty.
Lisa turned to Jackson, her heart racing. She turned her back on Hamilton, not needing to hear his final gasps for air. She'd done enough. It wouldn't be long before he bled out. Surely it was a kinder death than he deserved.
"Jack…"
She helped him stand up. He leaned on her, reminding her of the time she found him lying on her doorstep.
"I'm still here…" he moaned.
"You'd better be. I'm not finished with you yet."
"Me neither, Leese. Me neither…"
Sirens went off, much like a fire alarm. A loudspeaker kicked in, shouting, "Security lockdown initiating. Please stay put. This is not a drill."
"They're coming for us, aren't they?" Lisa asked.
He groaned as they stumbled toward the office door. "Yeah, it sure sounds like it."
"What are we going to do?"
"You're going to run. I'll handle this."
"No way. I'm not leaving you here to die, Jack."
She dragged him along, heading for the elevator bank. He dug his heels in. "No," he insisted, his voice rough. "Stairs. They'll have shut down the elevators."
"But you can't—"
"Don't worry about me."
They changed course, Jackson leading a bit. Lisa spotted the stairwell door just as footsteps surrounded them.
"Freeze! Put your hands up!" a man bellowed, a gun aimed at him. Behind him stood another three men all dressed in security guard uniforms.
She looked to the other side, seeing another four men flanking them. A quick glance behind her told her that they were boxed in. Trapped like rats in a maze.
"It's okay," Jackson whispered, loosening his grip on her. "Do it…"
Lisa bit her lip, letting go of him. She raised her arms slowly, watching Jackson sink to his knees. He was too weak to stand.
One of the men approached her, roughly jerking her hands behind her back. Cuffs clicked as he secured her wrists. She cried out when he touched her broken wrist. He didn't seem to notice or care.
"Please, we didn't do anything," she said.
"Shut up."
The guard pushed her toward a group of waiting men, all with their guns aimed at her. Lisa walked slowly, feeling a bit like a prisoner being led to their own execution. But what else could she do? She was unarmed and injured.
She didn't get too far before she heard gunshots.
Author's Notes:
I decided to let Lisa be the strong one this time around. I was going to let Jackson kill him and then I remembered that Jack's still rather weak. He was in a wheelchair not too long ago after all. He's not in the best shape of his life. So Lisa saves the day.
We'll see if Jack pulls through and what's up with Kat's condition in the next chapter. Here's a hint for the next chapter's songs—right now it's between 'Comatose' and 'Kill Me Heal Me' both by Skillet. Actually, it's a safe bet that next chapter will feature a Skillet song.
Thanks so much for all the reviews!
Eilish - I always try to respond to all my reviews. I have some of the best readers around and I really appreciate each and every review I get. Sometimes it takes me a while to respond (I just finished dealing with some reviews from 2007 earlier this week) but I always intend to respond. You're right about Hamilton not going down easy-but he's not coming back to life. Not this time. Thanks so much! :)
Lily - Thanks so much! Lisa really does trust him now. It's been a rocky road. :)