Newfound Clarity

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye.

Chapter Thirty-six

"Don't you know the cost/Of your betrayal/You're the one that's lost/You're gonna fail/It feels like/It feels like you're gasping with all your might/You can't take away my strength/Fix these broken things/There's nothing left to fight/Live free or let me die/You can't take away my pride/I won't be denied/There's nothing left to fight/Live free or let me die…Do you remember how/You became who you are now/Do you remember how/It felt to breathe without/Gasping with all your might… " ~ Live Free or Let Me Die by Skillet

Lisa Reisert's heart stopped. "Jack! Jackson!"

The gunshots echoed in her head. Jackson was dead. He had to be dead. There were too many men back there—too many guns full of bullets for him to take on. He'd died for her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. This was her fault. He'd come after her. She'd led him into a trap. He'd followed all too eagerly.

One of the remaining guards grabbed her left arm, guiding her into another room. She collapsed in the chair they pushed her at. Lisa didn't care. She was beyond that now. Jackson was gone. He wasn't coming to save her. No one was.

Sobs wracked her body. She let the tears fall and let the sorrow and anger and outrage take over. She gave in to her emotions.

I'm so sorry…

At the hospital, Aidan held his wife's hand. Katherine had a private room now.

Tubes and wires covered her body. One was a blood transfusion, another multiple IVs with various fluids, one was a heart monitor, and the by far the largest was a tube going down her throat. Other monitors checked on brain activity.

Katherine was in a coma thanks to the swelling in her brain. "Traumatic brain injury" was what the primary doctor told him. She might recover, might die, or might just linger in a vegetative state. It was anyone's guess at the moment.

All he could do was wait.

"Go, go, go!" James Robertson hissed into a headset.

A team of men dressed in head-to-toe black with a variety of tools and weapons fastened to a belt or the various pockets on their military-style uniforms. Three of the men carried automatic weapons. The rest carried handguns.

They split off in three groups, each led by a man with a noise-suppressor attached to their pistol. Approximately five men made up each team, with Robertson bringing up the rear.

One group headed up the south set of stairs. The second took the north side set. The third group, with Robertson near the front, approached the elevators. It took a moment to override the lockdown using a stolen key. The guard who'd previously held the key wouldn't miss it, seeing as he was dead.

None of that mattered to James Robertson. He expected casualties. He wanted casualties. He knew it was a reckless course of action, but he didn't care. The man upstairs murdered his daughter. He assassinated Charles Keefe. He put out kill orders on his employees and their friends.

Robertson was desperate to save Katherine's friends before Hamilton killed both Jackson and Lisa. If they were even still alive. Aidan hadn't been very clear on the phone.

The doors opened, revealing an empty office corridor. Cubicles and office doors filled his eyeline.

With a few quick hand signals, his men parted, each taking up various posts around the main area. Robertson himself went in search of Hamilton's office. Except there was no need.

Two battle-weary people stumbled out of an office. Both were covered in blood. One man, one woman.

He moved back to the elevator bank. "Find security. Take them out. Rippner and Reisert are on foot, both wounded. I need immediate medical assistance," he whispered into a head set.

Just like that, security came to him.

Jackson kept his head up. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to die like an animal. He eyed the men in front of him.

He waited to feel the bullets tearing at his flesh. They never came. At least not at him.

Guns went off around him, filling the empty space with sound. He watched as a small group of men —company men—faced down the guards focused on him. Reinforcements arrived from one side, finishing off the last stragglers.

"I'm really getting sick of saving your ass," a voice hissed in his ringing ears.

"Jim…"

His old friend pulled him to his feet. "Don't ask. Where's Hamilton?"

"Dead… Lisa…"

"Don't worry, I sent a team to get her. She's safe, Jack. She's safe."

He nodded, feeling his eyelids getting heavy.

"Tell her it's not her fault," Jackson muttered. "It's not her fault…"

The blackness closed in, pulling him under.

The door to the office burst open. The man guarding Lisa spun around to fire at the intruders, only to take two bullets to the chest.

Lisa stood up. "I'm unarmed!" she called. "Don't shoot!"

The man lowered his gun. "Miss Reisert? Lisa Reisert?"

"Yes?"

He smiled. "I'm Marc. I'm a friend of Kat and Aidan's. I'm here to take you home."

She relaxed. His name sounded familiar. She could remember Kat joking about a guy named Marc one day at the bank.

He unlocked her cuffs. "C'mon…"

"Jackson? Where's Jackson? Is he…?"

Marc didn't respond. "There's no time. We've gotta go."

"Not without Jack! I won't—"

"You don't have a choice."

He picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. She screamed and kicked at him. "Put me down!"

Marc turned a corner and headed to a set of stairs. "No. My orders are to get you out of here before the police show up."

"I don't care! I need to find Jack! He's hurt—"

"There's other people looking for him. They'll find him."

Lisa noticed the hint of doubt in his voice.

Jackson's dead, isn't he? And it's all my fault…

Aidan looked up from Kat's bedside when the door opened.

Standing there, with a nurse at her side, was Lisa. She looked like hell and clutched an oversized black jacket around herself.

"What happened?" he asked, dropping Kat's hand. He crossed the room and helped her to an empty chair. "Where's Jackson?"

He took in her disheveled hair, the cast on her wrist, the cuts and bruises on her face, and her red-rimmed eyes. In fact, her cheeks were still wet with tears.

Lisa didn't answer. She didn't have to.

"I'm sorry, Lisa," he whispered.

The auburn haired girl nodded. She broke down again, dissolving into tears. Aidan wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she cried. He didn't talk—he just listened to her sobs.

Four doors away, in an operating room, an unidentified young man flatlined as the doctors prepared to extract a knife from his back.

His name was Jackson Rippner.

Author's Notes:

We'll get an update on both Jackson and Kat's conditions in the next chapter. Just remember that this is Jackson and he's almost impossible to kill. ;)

Big thanks to my beta, cypris88! And to all of my awesome reviewers – over 200 reviews! – you guys are the best. :)

I might not update again until next weekend, even though I'm almost done writing chapter 37. Tomorrow (Monday) is my first day back at college so this week's pretty hectic. Plus I just moved in with four younger siblings on a farm. We've got a lot of animals. I love it here, but I'm also not on my laptop as much as I could be.

Check out a new video based on "Newfound Clarity" on YouTube. It features Kat, Aidan, Lisa and Jackson. I'm gonna put the link on my profile.

Eilish – Yes, Hamilton isn't coming back. But you're right… he might still have buddies who want revenge. I think you just gave me a sequel idea…. ;) Thanks so much!