Make the Call
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!
Summary: Time is running out for Jackson Rippner and Lisa Reisert. The phone call has to work the second time around—or else they're both dead.
Chapter One: The Fatal Call
Jackson waited for the red-haired stewardess to move down the aisle before he removed the airplane phone from its cradle. He was running out of time to make the call. If the call did not happen soon enough, Jackson Rippner was one dead assassination manager. There was no room for error in his line of work.
He swiped Lisa's credit card into the phone and dialed the Lux Atlantic phone number that he knew by heart. He had memorized the number while following Lisa. As soon as the phone was ringing, he turned to face Lisa, who was sitting numbly by his side.
He could tell that she was in pain and that she did not want to make the phone call. If he had a choice, he would not be forcing her to do this. But his life was at risk and it just so happened that he like it.
"It's time," he announced, placing the ringing phone near her, willing her to pick up the damn phone and make the blasted phone call.
Lisa hesitated a few seconds before taking the phone from his hand and moving to place it on her right ear—the one facing away from him. Jackson knew that it was probably a reflex due to being right handed, but the last time Lisa had kept the phone screen away from him, she had tried in vain to manipulate him into believing that she had made the call.
Jackson did not like being manipulated and he was not going to let her trick him again. He had come too far to fail now. He hated his job, but there was nothing that he could do to change it right then.
"Uh," Jackson reached over and placed the phone on Lisa's left ear, where he could see the small screen. "Thank you."
Her slender fingers slowly grasped the phone a second time, still hesitating, still stalling for time. Time that neither of them had. The longer it took for the call to be made, the closer they were to both their deaths.
"Cynthia, it's Lisa," Lisa spoke after Cynthia answered the ringing phone.
"Hey you. So I guess you still need that favor."
"Yeah. I was checking with Dan Young from maintenance and we can't put Keefe in that room," Lisa lied.
He had to admire her ability to lie through her teeth. He had nearly believed some of her lies, but he was used to dealing with lies and half-truths. He could tell when she was lying. On the other hand though, she could not tell when he was lying or telling the truth.
But Jackson did not lie. That was not who he was. He prided himself on being an honest person in a world and a profession where honesty is not expected. It separated him from people and he liked it that way.
Lisa suddenly froze.
Oh shit. This could not be happening! They were sooo close!
"4080," she spoke clearly.
Jackson stopped breathing for a few moments. His plan had to work! Cynthia had to buy what Lisa was selling. Lisa had to convince her! They were sooo close!
"Look, you're right. They're not going to be happy. So just, tell them I authorized it," Lisa finished, and the finality and the impact of her words seemed to pain her.
The line went dead and Lisa slowly replaced the phone as if she were in a trance. Jackson let out the breath that he had unconsciously been holding. His plan had, amazingly enough, succeeded. After everything that had happened, it was finally done. The phone call was made and Keefe was set to die.
"Outstanding," he spoke, refusing to look at her.
He did not want to see her face. He had hurt her by forcing her to make the call and he did not want to see the looks that she would give him. He had changed her and made her no better than him. He did not want to see Lisa cry.
"We're close."
Lisa's response was fumbling with the airplane phone before she shoved it into his hands. He looked at her questioningly. What did she expect him to do? The damage was already done. Keefe was going to die shortly and there was nothing that either of them could do to stop it.
"What?" Jackson asked her, looking up from the phone to her.
"You know what. My dad. Make the call," Lisa begged, moving the phone slightly to emphasize her points. She was close to tears. "Your part of the deal."
Jackson took the phone completely from her, slightly sad by what he had to do. He looked at the white phone in his hand for another second before he replaced it. Lisa looked utterly crushed by his actions.
"I still need you," he said, not looking at her again. God, it hurt to look at her and know that he put her in such a state. It was all his fault.
"You promised!" she cried in disbelief, her trust in him shattered once more.
"And I'll keep that promise," Jackson focused his blue eyes on her. "As soon as we're on the ground, I'll get confirmation that Keefe has been handled."
"While you wait for confirmation, what if your guy decides to kill my dad, because you didn't make the call?"
"He doesn't make a move unless I say so. He's a good dog. He responds only to his master's voice," Jackson reassured her.
Jackson had worked too hard to let go of his leverage now. As long as everything kept to the plan, he would make good on his promise and call off his associate. If it did not, then he would be forced to make the order to kill Joe Reisert. He did not want it to go that far. He did not want to hurt Lisa anymore than he already had.
"It'll all be over soon. The Keefes will be history, your dad will be safe, we'll both go back…"
"What?" questioned Lisa. "What did you say?"
Jackson froze. What had he said? Fuck, he had told her! He had let it slip! She was not supposed to know that all of the Keefes were going to die. He had decided to only let her known about Charles Keefe to save her from some of the pain.
"What?" Jackson asked.
"His family's with him? You're gonna kill his family too?"
Here it comes…emotion-driven, female-based dilemmas.
"Somebody wants to send a big, brash message—that's their business," Jackson swallowed. "I do my part, move on."
Jackson refused to face her. He had never really thought about his job before and what he did to people. He never saw his targets as people, but rather as names and places. He refused to think emotionally. He only dealt with the facts. If someone wanted someone dead, he told them his fee, asked who they were, how they wanted them to die, and when. The rest was up to him.
He never saw what he did as right or wrong; black or white. It was neither good nor evil. The lines blurred and he only saw shades of gray.
Why did she make him suddenly think about his job? What was it about her that changed him?
"Oh my, god," Lisa whispered into her hands.
She was getting ready to cry! All because of him and his stupid job!
"Lisa, shh," he ordered, placing a finger to his lips.
She covered her mouth with both hands and shook her head.
He had upset her. But why did he care? He did not feel emotions—let alone to towards victims of his plots. So, why did he care so much about Lisa Reisert?
Jackson Rippner never got a chance to figure it out.
Author's Notes:
Just a quick POV. Hope everyone like it! Enjoy!