Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long for the update. I've been busy preparing for school and all that to start back up. Anyways, here's the next chapter. Please let me know how I'm doing!
Chapter Five
Claire struggled to keep up with Vincent as he dragged her down the hall and practically shoved her into the elevator. The doors closed and Vincent gingerly set down his briefcase and glanced at his wristwatch.
"All right," he said, "we have a flight in three hours. That gives gives us two hours to get your id and passport in order."
"What?" Claire gasped, "We? Passport? I don't want to leave the country!"
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Claire." Vincent replied.
"What happened to vanishing and me never seeing you again?" Claire asked.
"Plans changed."
"Why?"
"They just have."
The elevator doors opened and Vincent picked up his briefcase and, with his free hand, once again took hold of Claire's elbow. She was getting rather tired of being dragged around be men and tried to twist out of his grasp, but Vincent held tight and all her efforts were in vain.
"Will...will you at least tell me where we're going?"she asked.
"No." Vincent said cooly, "You'll find out when we get there."
"Are we going to Brazil?"
Claire would have sworn that Vincent pause, but he never faltered a step. "I just said that you'll find out when we get there." he said.
"Actually, I'll find out when you give me the plane ticket!" Claire spat, again trying to pull her arm away from him. She wasn't sure where that boldness had come from and seeing that she was in the company of a killer, she regretted the words pretty much as soon as they had left her mouth. Why did I say that? she thought, Am I insane? Possibly.
She felt Vincent's already vice-like grip tighten painfully against her flesh. He then turned abruptly and dragged her into a darkened side alley and she just knew that he was about to kill her. She all of the sudden found herself thrust roughly against the brick wall of a building with Vincent pressed against the entire length of her. She could feel every muscle in his toned body. His flat stomach, lean solid thighs, and powerful chest. His fierce eyes were burning into hers. She was ashamed to admit it, but she was strangely turned on.
"All right, listen to me, Claire," he said, his voice dangerously low, "I am not telling you where we are going, because I don't know who is nearby and listening to us. My last employer has made some demands of me that I am not prepared to carry out at this moment and he has his men around here somewhere. Understand?"
Claire said nothing.
"Claire, do you understand what I'm saying?" he snapped.
"What demands?" Claire asked.
Vincent looked at her for a long moment. "We should really keep moving." he finally said, taking her by the wrist and leading her out of the alley.
An hour and one terrifying back alley store later, the word store meaning a 5 x 10 room with no windows tucked underenath a fire escape, Claire had had her name changed, been photographed, and recieved a passport in record time.
Clay, the quote/unquote storekeeper, was a pale, skinny computer hacker with long greasy brown hair that hung over his horn rimmed glasses. He wore a black Weezer tee shirt and kept openly staring at Claire's breasts.
"Clay," Vincent said, "focus."
"Yeah!" Clay said, his attention snapping back to where Claire's new id was coming out of the printer. He made a few more modifications to the glossy piece of plastic before handing it to Claire, being sure to brush his fingers agaist hers.
"Congradulations, dear. You are now Mrs. Clarissa Debunk."
"Thanks." Claire said, resisting the urge to wipe her hand on her jeans.
Vincent threw a wad of hundreds onto the keyboard of Clay's computer before taking Claire by the arm and forcing her out the door ahead of him. "Not a word." he said to Clay threateningly as he followed her through the door. Clay greatly resembled a mouse who had just been cornered by a hungry cat as he nodded to Vincent, then shut the door. Claire stifled a laugh when she heard the sound of about five different locks latching.
"Interesting character, that one." Claire said, allowing herself a light moment. Who knew when she would get the chance to have another one?
"That's one way of putting it." Vincent said.
"So," she hesitated, "can I ask you something?"
"You can ask, but I don't garantee an answer."
"When do I find out what's going on?" she asked.
Vincent actually stopped walking and turned to look at her. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to assure her that everything would be fine and that he would take care of her, though he didn't know where the desire to take care of her had come from. He opened his mouth to speak. He had no idea what he was about to say, and he didn't get the chance to find out.
"Claire!" a voice down the street rang out, "You bitch!"
Both Vincent and Claire looked back to see a bulky man glaring at them. Claire recognized him immediately. It was Antonio's brother, Raphael. "What the..." she started, squinting to get a better look, but before she had time to focus, Vincent had pulled her out of the street. They had just entered a tiny little shoe shop when the sound of a gun shot rang through the street.
"Punelli works fast." Vincent said to himself, but Claire heard him and she made a mental note of the name. "New guy, though. At least it's not Beaufort." Both of them.
Normally, Vincent would pull out his gun and handle the situation, but there wasn't much lately that had been going normally. His main concern at present was getting Claire out of there and not being fingered by any witnesses so that they could make it through the airport without any problems. Keeping a tight grip on Claire's hand, he dragged her through the store and through a back door that lead to a storage room. He shoved Claire toward the back of that room and knocked over a stack of large cardboard boxes to block the entrance.
"Did he just shoot at us?" Claire asked, "On a crowded street?"
Through the door at the back of the storage room, they found themself in an extremely narrow hallway, in which Vincent sped his pace to a run with Claire stumbling after him. The gunman was more than likely in the store by that point, which meant they had to move fast. He reached behind him and grabbed Claire by the hand once more. She had to keep up. He spotted the large metal door at the end of the hall and kicked his speed up yet another notch. Once they reached it, he kicked it open and dragged Claire out into yet another side alleyway. Her thighs were beginning to burn and cramp and her breathing was becoming more and more difficult, and Vincent was still running as though he could go for another mile without even breaking a sweat. But thankfully, before Claire knew what had happened, they had made a sharp turn and were emerging from the dark path out into the sunlit street. It seemed like one fluid motion that Vincent had hailed a taxi and thrown Claire inside of it.
"JFK." Vincent told the driver and they were off. He looked out the back window just in time to see the stocky gunman come huffing out of the alley, but he was too late. They were already lost in a sea of yellow cabs. Vincent let out a breath and then relaxed...or, relaxed as much as he ever relaxed.
Claire studied him for a long minute before deciding to speak. "Who's Punelli?"
Vincent looked at her quickly, and the coldness that was suddenly in his eyes made her blood want to freeze in her veins. "What?"
"I...I heard you say the name." she added carefully.
Vincent looked to the cabby, who seemed about as likely to speak English as a Vietnamese three year old, then returned his gaze to Claire. "Mr. Punelli was my last employer and that back there, I assume, was one of his men."
"No it wasn't." Claire almost laughed.
Vincent looked at her questioningly. He did not like not knowing what was going on.
"That was Raphael." Claire informed, "Tony's idiot brother."
"Bardez's brother?"
"Yeah. The big reject probably thinks that I'm the one who..." she paused and cast a glance at the driver, then looked back to Vincent, who nodded to indicate that he understood. "So...Punelli hired you to..."
Vincent's gaze was boring into hers and she bagen to feel very small. "I think that you've probably figured that out already."
"So...you're a...you...you do...what I think you do?"
"Yes."
"And Beaufort?"
Vincent smiled. She certainly did know how to pay attention, didn't she. "He's like me."
"And Punelli is going to send him after you because?"
"Not me, Claire." he said, "You."
That word had the same impact as a knife would in her stomach. She wanted to cry and throw up all at once. "Me?" she asked and it all became so painfully clear. "The demand?"
Vincent nodded. Interestingly, Claire had the uncontrollable urge to laugh. The irony of the situation was almost to beautiful to handle. The only man who wasn't trying to kill her...was the hit man.
They pulled into the airport. Claire was still reeling from the discovery of her impending doom as Vincent paid the driver and pulled her out of the car. "Um, Vincent?" Claire said and he paused mid-step to look at her. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I really need a cigarette." She used all of her might and dragged him into the lounge bar.
Vincent's brow furrowed. "Do you know how bad smoking is for you?"
"Probably not as bad as bullets flying at my head." Claire snapped, pulling her pack of Marlboro lights out of her bag and lighting one up. "So..." she began over a puff of smoke and rubbed at her eyes with one hand, "please, tell me what's going on."
Vincent thought about doing just that, when the waiter came over to their table, so instead he responded to him. "I'll have a scotch neat."
Yes! Claire's mind screamed, Hard alcohol! Just what the doctor ordered! "I'll have mine of the rocks." she told the waiter, who nodded before he wandered away. "Okay," she started again as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, "I've known you for about twenty-four hours and my life has turned completely inside out, so I would appreciate a little perspective on the situation at hand."
"I don't know." Vincent said, and it was almost true...and he really hated that fact.
"Yeah, right." Claire responded.
"Okay, listen," Vincent started as the waiter sat down their drinks and left, "you've figured out what I do, so let me tell you how it works. I don't get on to personal term with my employers and they don't get on personal terms with me. They contact me through email and if I take the job, I give them a pager number that they can reach me at. I don't know why they pick the targets they pick and I don't care." Claire looked like she was near tears. Her chin quivered for a moment, but he could tell that she was working hard at fighting off the sobs. She grabbed her drink and downed it. "However...I have been doing this for a long time and after a while, you can start to figure these things out."
He had Claire's interest. "Oh?" she said.
"Yeah," Vincent added, not really sure why he was telling all this, "This job...your boyfriend...it had the particular stink of a drug deal gone bad."
Claire reached over, grabbed Vincent's drink and took a sip. "Can't say that I'm really suprised." Then, her eyes locked with his, "So, why you helpin' me?"
Vincent gave one loud humorless chuckle and snatched his drink back from her and turned it up. "That one, I really don't know the answer to."
Author's Note: Thanks to all of you that have reviewed so far, keep em coming! But, now I have kind of a poll I would like to take. I think I'm getting pretty good at this whole multi-tasking thing, and I'm going to start two more fanfics shortly. You see, I have recently developed an infatuation with the brilliant actor Cillian Murphy, and really want to do a story about him. I've got one in the works about his character from Cold Mountain and will probably do one on Red Eye if I can ever get to the theater to see it. But I want to do one where I have more to go than a two minute scene, so I was hoping for some opinions. Which of these movies do you think would be best?
A) 28 Days Later
B) The Way We Live Now (Don't know how many people have seen that one)
C) Batman Begins
Let me know what you think! Thanks again, C-ya!
