Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Feedback/Author's note:

Teegan: (This reply has been edited some by the author)Well…. Thanks for liking my writing and thanks for the long review. :)

I wrote this fic to get it out of my heart where it was slowly burning a hole. It was mainly for selfish reasons. Then it's fun to post and to see if anyone else seems to have the same disposition. I did try to write a little warning in the beginning of the first chapter that it is a re-write of the movie with my take on it… It won't deviate a lot from the movie; that just didn't happen in my head. It deviates enough, though, to make the sequel (that I'm writing) plausible. (The last chapter deviates the most, though, bear with me)

Star: Thanks. Yes, A sequel is in progress.

SmarterThanYou: Thank you, love. OK… I hear you. Love him that much, huh? LOL

Emptyvoices: LOL You always seem to think we have the same way of looking at it, and I always keep thinking: No, we don't! I see Jackson as someone that would've been impossible to find after it was all over and that he would never have had to kill Lisa and Joe since… he simply would disappear like he never existed. Maybe he's even impossible to find in the system?

BregoBeauty: Thanks, hon! It's very, very encouraging to hear.

Singalong: Writing action and love scenes are the most fun – and the most difficult to get the right pace in. I'm happy you seem to think I got it right, then.

Atia of the Julii: Oh, sorry about that! You are right, and I didn't think of it. English is not my first language… I can blame that. :blushes: Thanks, I'm so glad you like it!

Overall: don't hesitate to let me know what you think. And I sincerely hope the last two chapters won't be boring… We all know what's gonna happen… and what we WOULD have wanted to happen :grins evilly:

Revised 01-02-07

-

Chapter 9 When You Think It's Over

Lisa acted on instinct; doing things she would never have believed herself capable of. Funny how strong they can be – survival instincts. She'd stolen a jeep from outside the terminal and was now driving at seventy or eighty down the highway, towards her dad's house.

Almost crashing the car into the side of another, she hastily buckled up and flipped the cell phone open. YES! Connection.

"Cynthia!"

Calling the poor desk clerk again, she hastily explained what needed to be done and how urgent it was.

And Cynthia didn't get it.

Aaaahhhh! "Pull the fire alarm! Get everybody out. Cynthia, Keefe is a target! Tell them Keefe is a target!" she yelled.

The other end of the line went silent, but she could still hear the normal lobby sounds in the background, then a satisfying feeling spread within her as she heard the unmistakable scream of the fire alarm. Cynthia had finally gotten the message.

Disconnecting, she called another - and equally urgent - number. "OK, one more. Come on, one more." Two rings must have been heard at Joe Reisert's house, then the battery of Jackson's cell phone died.

"DAMN IT!"

Speeding through the increasingly dense morning traffic, she reached the outskirts of her father's neighbourhood.

-

-

At Blossom Palms Lane everything seemed quiet. It was still early morning, and most people were probably still taking their morning showers and preparing breakfast.

Her eyes went wider as she spotted the sleek silver coloured BMW standing opposite her dad's house. The nightmare hit her with a vengeance – Jackson was still out there and everything he'd been saying was true.

And he never lies…

What if he's already made the call somehow? From a payphone? She hadn't expected him to get back into action so soon after her assault. Maybe he even had a voice? She had very sparse medical knowledge and had no idea what kind of damage she had or hadn't done.

Slowly passing by the car, she surprisingly found it empty. What? Where… Looking between the trees at the other side of the street, her heart almost stopped as she saw a man standing outside her father's door. "Oh my God!" Without thinking, she hit the gas pedal and turned the steering wheel.

The hitman shot at her several times as she sped towards him, then she blacked out as the car hit him and the house, and the steering wheel connected with her forehead, all at once. Lisa sat numbly with her face pressed into the steering wheel for several moments. Her head had been hurting for the last couple of hours, and it only got worse.

No airbag?! What kind of a car doesn't have an airbag!?

With a flinch, she pulled herself out of her shocked state and stepped out of the hissing and wheezing car on trembling legs.

Dad?!

Carefully passing the hitman, lying on the floor in the hallway, she realized that this was a death she definitely would have on her conscience. Stopping in her tracks for a harrowing moment, she watched fascinated as the pool of blood by his head grew wider.

"Lisa?" The sound of her name snapped her head up, and back in reality she was looking at the most beautiful sight she'd seen all night. DAD!

"Dad."

"Lisa, what the hell?!"

"Did you call 911?"

"I already did. Who is this?"

"I can explain that, are you OK?" Lisa's father looked completely confused and Lisa herself was trying to pull the pieces together now. There was something very important she needed to remember. He's OK. I'm OK. I've got to call THE HOTEL!!!

"Am I OK? Come on!"

"I have to call the hotel." She went for the living room to get a phone while her dad was still trying to talk to her behind her back.

"OK, OK. You're OK." She touched his hands to make sure he was still there, still alive.

The Keefes!!!

Her dad disappeared into the kitchen as she called Cynthia. Oh My GOD! What if I sent Cynthia to her death?!

"Lux Atlantic Resort." Cynthia's voice at the other end of the line was weak and trembling, but clearly alive.

"Cynthia! Are you OK?"

"Yeah…"

"Is everyone else OK?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. We're all OK, I think…" Lisa heard something crashing in the background. "Ehm… oh my God, you'd better get down here. I have no idea how I'm gonna explain this."

Lisa would have smiled, had she not been so tired; Cynthia was still Cynthia.

"OK, OK. Eh… I'm on my way."

Rushing to the kitchen, she called for her dad. "Dad I need your keys. We have to get to-"

JACKSON!!!!

Stopping dead, she stared at the man of her worst nightmares, standing in the middle of her father's kitchen. Her heart began beating at an impossible speed and her legs momentarily turned into jelly. Uttermost fear and disbelief surged through her as they regarded each other. Flashes from the last seconds she'd seen him at the airport re-played in her mind. His eyes – was it almost disappointment she'd seen there those last moments?

"Hi," he wheezed, sending her a vicious glare, his vocal cords seemingly affected by the trauma. Jackson had tied a deep red scarf around his neck. Smart, covers the blood… His hair was a mess and his handsome face twisted into anger and hate.

Lisa took a couple of steps back as Jackson walked towards her. Her eyes flickered. "DAD?!" she shouted.

Jackson moved even closer. "Oh, he's not dead," he rasped, covering the hole in his throat with a couple of fingers as he spoke. It seemed to hurt him to produce the words. "I wanted him to see what I'm gonna do to YOU first!" Jackson closed in on her with a terrifying expression on his face.

Lisa shook with fear. Do WHAT to me? Where's Dad? She needed to get away from a Jackson on a quest for revenge, but she couldn't leave the house without her dad - it would be sentencing him to death at Jackson's hands.

Lisa bolted and took another route to the kitchen, around Jackson. Her dad was lying, seemingly lifeless, on the floor and she sank to her knees, trying to get him to wake up.

"Dad! Come on. You have to get up." He didn't move. Lisa sighed with relief when she found that at least he was breathing regularly.

Sounds of feet told her that she wasn't alone. Looking up from behind the bench, she stared wide-eyed at Jackson who stretched out a hand at her father. "You see, Lisa, I never lie," he snarled, his breath wheezing painfully for each word. I did that! she thought with a sense of pride.

Lisa backed away as he approached. "OK, so is this personal now?" Her voice shook as she asked, afraid of whatever the answer would be.

He cocked his head. "Just finishing the job."

I don't believe you! Lisa remembered that look, that 'I can't believe you did this to me'-look. It had said more than his words.

"I thought you never lied." She stared challenging back at him, feeling temporarily safe with the kitchen bench between them.

I'm getting to him, it IS personal! Good God, what have I done?

It was the third time this morning that question had hung heavy on her. The first time, she had believed that she'd by being stupid had endangered the older woman's life on the flight; the second time had been after she'd learnt that she had not only helped with killing Keefe, but his whole family. And now she'd had a professional murderer follow her into her dad's kitchen, intent on killing both of them.

Somehow it was worse – far worse – that it was personal… It meant he would never give up.

He darted to the left, trying to reach her. Lisa jumped away, keeping the counter between them.

"I don't," he rasped viciously. "You're just a loose end."

Lisa triumphed as she threw the beautiful truth in his face. "Well, you're too late. Everyone's alive!" Jackson's face darkened as Lisa continued. "In that hotel, every single person is alive." She almost smirked at the look on his face. He had failed, and now HE was the one in trouble. "What? You didn't know? You FAILED, JACK!!!"

His eyes widened and they flamed with blue heat, like metal burning, as his face twisted in hate. "I – I'll finish the job!"

Lisa shook her head. This was a war she couldn't afford to lose. And it was between them, they were equals now. He'd hurt her, she'd hurt him. But they were on HER ground now. This is my HOME!

"Not in MY house!"

He jumped at her, and she ran. Pulling a chair down behind her, she heard the crash as he stumbled over it and knew that she had bought herself a few more seconds.

Her heart sped alarmingly as she waited at the top of the back stairs, listening to the silent house for any sounds from Jackson. Holding the heavy fire extinguisher - the first thing she'd been able to grab that was big enough to use as a weapon - she waited. Finally she heard him, and as soon as she spotted him, she threw it. Damn! Missed! As he reached the top of the stairs, she jumped out from her hiding place and headbutted him, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

Ahhhh . Lisa fell to her knees. Her head hurt like hell, and she needed a plan.

-

-

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! Jackson sprawled, in pain, halfway down the stairs. Every one of them had hit his head or back as he fell.

The headache he could do nothing about, but overall it worked well to fuel his fury. He couldn't believe the guts this woman had, going after HIM. If he hadn't been so pissed, he'd have actually liked her… He HAD liked her, but that was before… before she humiliated him and started beating the shit out of him.

Stumbling down the rest of the way, he locked the door to the staircase behind him. I don't like surprises. Now stay there, Leese.

Finding his way to the hallway, limping heavily, he turned over his dead associate and located the twelve-inch knife. Damn, this house is worse than a fucking maze.

Carefully, he began searching the house. Where is she? He couldn't believe his misfortune. This little GIRL had outmanoeuvred him.

Yes, LISA, it is personal now!

-

-

Lisa quietly entered the back door. Her father was still unconscious and she tried to lift him, to get him out of the house, but he was way too heavy for her. Staggering, she hit a plate and it fell to the floor with a deafening clatter. Quickly, she dragged her dad across the floor and hid him behind the counter. Maybe Jackson would be too occupied to look.

I'll keep you occupied!

She waited in silence for him to get down there, and he didn't disappoint. He looked like he couldn't believe his eyes when he stared at the empty space at the floor.

"Hey," she whispered from her hiding place in the adjacent room. As his head snapped in her direction, she bolted.

With a furiously limping Jackson on her heels, she darted back up the main stairs, hurling a chair at him as she reached the top. He evaded that too and with a growl, he threw himself at her but Lisa managed to slam and lock the bathroom door before he could reach her.

Panting heavily, she stared at the doorknob as it twisted. Trembling from exhaustion, she leaned her forehead against the door, virtually feeling his presence at the other side.

Hearing him breathe, and pant, just like her, she revelled in knowing he wasn't invincible.

"Where's you male-driven, fact-based logic now, JACK?" Lisa exhaled slowly, trying to get back control over her rapidly beating heart. "I don't think that's what got you here…" She leaned closer, needing some kind of reaction from the other side of the door. "Did you hear me?"

What ARE you doing, Jackson? Why are you here?