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Feedback: Emptyvoices and BregoBeauty, thanks so much for encouraging me. I love the reviews! And thank you my wonderful beta, Romany. :)

Here goes the next chapter. Enjoy. /Nic.

And everybody! I'd LOVE to hear what you think of this chapter. ;P

Revised 30-10-06

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Chapter 5 Just One Simple Phone Call

Jackson knew he had her.

From now on he was all game. Lisa was afraid, cornered and had no escape. They didn't say another word for a few minutes. Lisa was crying freely, but asking no questions which suited him just fine. He waited for the flight attendant to answer the call before he made his next move.

Looking at Lisa, he almost pitied her – but only almost.

She had gone from being a radiant, smiling young woman to a sniveling lump within a few minutes. And it was all his work. He felt proud, he knew he was good at what he did, but at the same time her fear and misery bugged him, just a little. He didn't think of himself as a sadist, really. They'd had fun before, at the airport restaurant. He had enjoyed speaking to her. More than he liked to admit.

Now the good feeling was lost.

Naturally. He shook off the slight discomfort and glanced once more in her direction.

"Hi, what can I do for you?" The flight attendant showed up next to Jackson.

"Hi," he replied and smiled amicably, turning his attention back to the presence. She smiled back at him and then her smile transformed into a worried frown as she looked at Lisa.

Jackson turned to Lisa, playing a gentleman to perfection.

"Leese, did you need another pillow or anything?" He took on a look of concern that could've fooled anyone.

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Lisa cringed as he looked at her with something she at any other time would have mistaken for real concern. She wanted to snarl at him, yell, scream, fight him, anything to get out of this suffocating feeling of being enveloped in his plot.

But she didn't dare. She believed Jackson; her father was in real danger. Looking up at the stewardess, she shook her head, even managing the faintest trace of a smile. "No, I don't need anything."

Jackson turned back to the stewardess, adding to her pain, "She's had a really rough day. A death in the family," he whispered.

Lisa jerked at that last comment. No matter how true it actually was, it was still a concealed threat. He knew it, she knew it. No one else would ever interpret it like that.

The flight attendant's concern was less false, though. "Oh, I'm SO sorry."

"Yeah," Jackson agreed.

"I'll get you water and some tissues."

"Thanks," Jackson answered softly. It was like she wasn't there. Jackson spoke for her, making sure she didn't do anything she'd regret later.

"Be right back."

"Thank you."

They were alone again. She didn't want to be alone with him. It was a terrifying experience. Still, good God, she wasn't alone, the plane was full of passengers.

Jackson didn't give her time to breathe. "That was great Leese. Keep doing the right thing. Just… bottle the emotions a little more. OK?"

Lisa almost burst out in a loud cry, but stopped herself. Collecting her thoughts, she turned to him. "Have you done something to my father?"

"No," he answered immediately. "And it will stay that way as long as you keep playing along."

She looked at him. They sat so close. His full lips moved, speaking these horrible words. He looked the same as when they had been talking at the airport. Maybe part from his eyes… How could eyes change so much?

Lisa shook her head inwardly. "What do you want from me?" she whispered.

"Right now," he answered coldly, "I wanna wait for your Kleenex and water, and once we have our privacy we can get back to business." He smiled, but the warmth of it never reached his eyes.

The stewardess returned with the items and said something about Lisa feeling better. She didn't care enough to listen.

"Thank you," she mumbled, not really knowing what she thanked for.

Jackson held the water bottle in front of her, offering her a drink. Yeah right! She looked at him like he was stupid. Sighing, he took a sip himself before he put the lid back on. He took his time, like he was making a point out of it, succeeding in giving Lisa the impression that he was truly in charge here and that he wasn't apprehensive about this situation at all.

In any other circumstances she would have admired that ability.

Jackson turned to her again. "I need you to call your hotel. It's very simple. Just use your managerial pull to move Keefe from 3825 to suite 4080. I'll leave the details to you. You just sell it." He looked almost friendly again, so sure that he had her.

Lisa looked at him in shock. She was being held hostage so that someone would be able to get to Keefe. She had to think fast. There was no way in hell she could live with herself if she helped some criminals to do whatever dirty deeds they planned.

"You've got the wrong person. I don't have the authority to do that." Lisa shook her head, her cheeks stained with slowly-drying tears.

The almost-friendliness vanished and was replaced by a terrifying expression. "Well, I happen to know that you do. You're the only voice that can get this done by the time I need it done."

He pulled the phone out of its holder, stretching it to her. Lisa didn't take it.

"You need me to write it down?" he mocked.

"No," she whispered.

"Well then, what's the delay?"

Lisa was still trying to get this. Why did he want Keefe to change his room? What difference would it make? It simply sounded too weird.

"So… by changing Keefe's room... does that make it easier?"

Jackson slammed the phone back, clearly irritated, making her shrink away from him in her seat.

"Lisa," he snapped, leaning closer. "Whatever female-driven, emotion-based dilemma you're dealing with right now, you have my sympathy." His mocking tone of voice indicated clearly that the situation was the opposite. "But for the sake of time – and sanity – let's break this down into a little MALE-driven, FACT-based logic. One. Simple. Phone call. Saves. Your. Dad's. Life. And it has to be made soon."

Lisa's first instinct was to slap him for being such a pig-headed male chauvinist. I could kill him! That's when it dawned on her; Jackson's face was only a few inches away, but she turned to look him straight in the eyes.

"You're gonna kill Keefe, aren't you?"

Jackson's face twisted into an angry grimace.

"You really need to start worrying more about your dad, Leese."

"How am I supposed to know he's OK, how do I know you haven't hurt him already?"

"He's fine," Jackson retorted.

"Why am I supposed to believe that?" She was getting angrier by the second at this man, who had forced himself into first her mind, and now into her very life. He'd been cheating… lying...

I liked you…

I hate you!

"Well," Jackson answered coolly. "The last call I got said he was sitting in the TV room, eating left-over lasagna and watching the comedy marathon."

Lisa cringed. That sounded so much like her Dad. And it sounded so normal.

"Relax, Leese," he continued in a softer voice. "By now my guy is probably back in his silver Beemer, parked outside 9321 Blossom Palms Lane. He's sitting in the dark, listening to a little smooth jazz, while he sharpens his twelve-inch KA-BAR." Jackson paused for the impact of it. "That's a knife, Leese..."

Lisa choked at those last words. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and she was assessing every possible way out of this.

What if they've already hurt him?! She nailed Jackson with a fierce look.

"I wanna talk to my dad!"

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She was trouble.

She was fucking defying him. Lisa had been a whining lump and now she was arguing with him. The call was yet to be made and she insisted to get to call her dad.

Unbelievable.

Rage was building inside him with every minute she stood up against him. This hadn't been going very well so far; she'd put up a lot more resistance than he had thought she would. She seemed to be lying to him about almost everything, even insignificant little details, and now she was trying to manipulate him. HIM!

You were doing so well. Just make the fucking phone call, Leese, don't make this worse than it has to be!

I don't WANT to want to hurt you!

All the while Lisa kept on harassing his ears, stubbornly demanding to make the phone call. "I wanna talk to him NOW, or I don't call ANYBODY!" She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, her face a mask of determination.

Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he realized she wasn't going to give in.

"Your dime," he hissed.

With shaking hands, Lisa grabbed for her wallet, and by the devious glint in her eyes at that millisecond, he knew she was going to try something. Unbelievable! No matter how uncomfortable it was, he still had to admire such a will to fight. Snatching the bag from her, he got her credit card and kept the bag out of her reach. A satisfying feeling spread inside him when he saw her pretty mouth snapping closed in anger.

Little sweet Lisa, don't you try. I'll always outsmart you.

He felt the frustration ooze off of her as she dialed her father's number. Listening to her stumbling few words, he decided it was enough and wrenched the phone out of her hand, making her gasp with surprise and fear.

I sincerely hope!

At that point, watching how she kept struggling, and kept fighting back, he realized that he didn't want it to come to where he actually had to hurt her. He hoped instead he could keep her submissive by mere threats until they could go their different ways after the deal was done.

Just make the call...

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Lisa jolted with surprise when the phone was pulled away. But at least she had heard her father's voice. He was OK. It gave her a sense of strength, he was all right. She would have to take it from here.

"Did he sound healthy to you?" Jackson asked mockingly.

God, he's so full of himself! Lisa was beginning to develop a headache and didn't answer. Her mind was empty, drained, and at the moment, she couldn't think of anything to do to fight back anymore.

"I hope that's a yes, because that's the best I can do." He slid her credit card through the side of the phone, charging it once more.

"Now, let's get this over with."