Disclaimer: I don't own Starling, Lecter, etc. You know this. But now the question arises: why are you still reading this? The story's down there.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Night of the Jackal

Ch4: Revelations

Chacal drove to a small meadow a few miles away that he had scouted out a few days before. Very few people walked through the area. It would be the perfect place to finish his job. The one complaint he had at the moment was the aggravating noise coming from the bed of the truck. It seemed that Mrs. Lecter was becoming irritated and/or desperate, and was kicking the metal barrier between the bed and the cab of the truck violently. Not only that, but she was yelling. That part was probably just to wake up her husband, but Chacal was losing his patience.

(BANG) "Where the," (BANG) "HELL are you," (BANG) "taking us?!" (BANG).

Chacal was quite able to hear her but was attempting to ignore the woman. This was becoming more and more difficult. Chacal congratulated himself on creating such an effective cage which would be impossible to escape once inside, but this noise was ridiculous. It was extremely grating to a man's nerves, especially since the man was used to being absolutely silent on these jobs. The irritation was shown when Chacal took a decidedly sharp turn, flinging his passengers to the metal side of the truck.

Clarice took this as a sign that her distraction was working.

(BANG) "Slow the," (BANG) "fuck down!" (BANG BANG).

Finally Dr. Lecter woke up. "Clarice, dear. What are you doing?"

Clarice smiled. "Trying to bug the shit out of that guy." She gave another kick. This time the car swerved again, without apparent cause, and Clarice and Lecter were flung to the side again.

"I see. It appears that your magic is working."

"Doesn't it always?" (BANG)

"True. Are you certain you want to anger him?"

"Why not?" (BANG). "Care to join me? It's almost fun." (BANG).

"I'm afraid I'll sit this one out. My strength hasn't come back yet."

"Oh well." (BANG). "STOP THIS FUCKING CAR!" (BANG).

As if in response, the terrain became uneven and Clarice and the doctor were tossed about cruelly, knocking into each other, the cold bed of the truck, the steel siding, and the hard camper ceiling. Clarice managed to get to one of the small immovable plastic windows. They were no longer on any streets. They were entering a forest where Clarice liked to run, sometimes. Not a good sign.

Chacal noted the lack of any poundings and smiled. He guessed that Mrs. Lecter had figured out what was happening, and what would happen. Or maybe she had just accidently bashed her head on the metal interior. One could always hope.

In any case, Chacal drove deeper and deeper into the woods, heading to a small meadow along a dirt trail where his tire tracks would not be noticed as odd. Finally he came to an abrupt haltat the edge of the meadow, and smiled when he heard the two thumps coming from the bed of the truck. This place was perfect for his work: it was so far from civilization here that few joggers ever made it, and even less often would the park ranger come here to check on things. There would be sufficient coverage and few visitors to the area. Much nicer than a reservoir bottom.

Chacal climbed out of the cab. He did not remove any weapons. Instead, he reached across the steering wheel to grab at the handle of a shovel. It was time for the manual labor portion of the job. He walked to the bed of the truck and looked in one of the windows. Clarice and Dr. Lecter were both awake and doing well, it appeared. Chacal smiled at them as they glared. If looks could kill, he thought amusedly. He waved a little at them, as if saying hello. It was like poking a caged animal with a stick. Funny. Mean, but funny.

Then Chacal's smile dropped and he turned away, ready to get to work. He walked to the spot he had picked out the day before in the light coming from the truck's headlights. The ground was nice and loose here, and would give no trouble as he began to dig. This might take a little while, but he had nothing if not patience and time. It wasn't as if the two in the truck were going anywhere.

The two in the truck were growing concerned. In the past, neither had come across someone who truly did not fear Dr. Lecter. There had been a few who put their fear aside, and only one person who had ever gotten over her fear, and she was currently in the same boat (or truck, rather) as the doctor himself. This was unchartered territory.

They could hear the soft noises of a shovel breaking through the soil and the pattering noise of dirt dropping on more dirt. It was quite clear what the man intended to do. So they began thinking of a plan which would get them out of this mess. Dr. Lecter doubted that their captor would be intimidated easily (especially since they were both locked in his truck at the moment), and if the digging were any indication of what was to come, wouldn't react to a pretended attempt to attack Clarice. Bribery might still be an option. Dr. Lecter had plenty of money. In fact, if this was a hired killer, which Dr. Lecter believed it was, outbidding the contractor would be best. He had grave doubts that he and Clarice would be able to get out of this any other way. The man was very expert.

Clarice looked out the window, straining to see what was going on. The man was shirtless, and digging a hole. Great. As she shifted her leg to get a bit more comfortable, she accidently kicked the truck again. Even though the thump was soft, Chacal's head jerked over to stare at the truck. Very attuned guard. After a moment, Chacal began digging again, but now Clarice knew that he was still paying attention to what was going on. Damn.

Clarice turned back to her husband. "Got any ideas about getting out of here?"

"Always. I imagine that the way to ending this is to bribe him."

"Why would that work?"

"Well, Clarice, it is quite obvious that this man is a hitman."

"I was afraid of that. So who do you think sent him?"

"Well, considering that this contract is on both our heads, I can only think only one option. Someone who has enough money to buy a killer with this expertise, and who would have the connections."

"Yeah, yeah. I see your reasoning. You know, I'm really starting to hate the FBI."

------------------------------------------------

That's enough writing for now. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Please, feel free to do so again. No really. Please! One more chapter left.......

-Vilest of Worms