Chapter 9

Lisa stood up, her cheeks red with anger. "I'm leaving now."

"No, you're not, believe me." Jackson reminded her of a grown-up talking to a misbehaving child. She hated that tone of his, always had.

"Then what's the delay?" Waving the plane phone in front of her face.

"Leese!" When she didn't react and stalked out, he yelled for Marc Whitley.

Lisa would never forgive Whitley for what he did next. Stepping right into her path, almost bumping into her, he gestured for his goons to come over and make her stay while looking straight into her eyes. From his chair, Jackson saw it all.

"Just a moment, Ms. Reisert." Whitley closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with two men in suits who stood too close for comfort. Upset, she tugged at the hem of her shirt.

When Whitley came back out, his face was tense. "Ms. Reisert, could you please wait for Mr. Keefe." It was clearly not meant to be a question. His tone was hushed and urgent when he made a call from his cell and he all but ignored her afterwards.

Minutes later, Keefe walked towards them in long strides, but when Lisa made a move forward to intercept him, Whitley's agents stopped her in her tracks. Keefe noticed her irritation and gave her a brief apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Just a second."

Lisa couldn't understand a single word he exchanged with Whitley, but both men were obviously agitated. At what seemed to be the end of an animated conversation, Keefe sighed and hung his head for a second before turning towards Lisa with a look in his eyes that alarmed her.

"Ms. Reisert, there have been … unforeseen developments."

Lisa shook her head. "Frankly, I don't care. I just want to leave now."

"Rippner has proposed another deal, but he won't go into specifics as long as you're not present. Listen, you have already done a great deal for your country back on that plane and there is no way we - or I - could ever repay you. Could you not ..."

"Mr. Keefe, you're forgetting one thing. I made that call. There are limits to what I can do for you or my country." Her voice was fierce.

"But you came through. You did. Nothing is decided yet, let's just hear what he has to say. Please." It was the gravity in his words that got to her. "Give us a fighting chance. Please."

Lisa could barely get it out. "Okay." She straightened her shoulders, wiped the tears from her face and smoothed her hair. Whitley shot her an approving glance which she returned with a frown before she brusquely turned away.

As soon as Whitley's agents had brought two more chairs, Keefe, Whitley and Lisa went back into the interrogation room. Jackson acknowledged her with a nod and the words "I told you so" sparkling from the taunting smile she remembered so well.

"Congratulations. The girl can be hard to convince."

"The deal, Rippner," Whitley cut in, his aggression palpable. "What's the offer?"

"Let's just do a quick check-up on the status quo first, shall we?" Howcould he manageto sound so cocky? This was a big deal and Jackson knew it, yet his confident tone reminded her so much of how he'd been like on the plane, laying out the details of his plan. A coldness crept up Lisa's spine when she looked at his face that emanated charm and malice in perfect harmony. She forced the memories back into a corner of her mind. He can't harm you now.

Jackson went on. "I trust the fact that I have been … secured is still a secret?"

Keefe nodded.

"The transfer from the hospital to here looked as if I managed to escape to anyone who might inquire further?"

Another nod. Whitley stole a sidelong peek at his superior, undeniably displeased with how this conversation was going.

"And last, but not least - there's still the dummy entry in the FBI's most wanted list?" When Keefe nodded yet again, Jackson gave a little laugh. "Perfect."

"For what?" Whitley grew increasingly impatient.

"Well, Mr. Whitley, I know that you have never had the luck of actually snatching someone like me, you have no clue how we work and you only have a skeletal knowledge of our network and the people involved. Quite unsatisfying, right? With terrorism being such a threat and all …"

The air between Whitley and Jackson was charged with tension and Lisa was sure that Whitley was going to lose his temper sooner or later.

Apparently, so was Keefe. "Stating old facts is not a valid business proposal, Rippner. Get on with it before we get bored." There was a brutality in his voice that Lisa had never heard before. It shocked her.

"Do you not see the potential?" Jackson, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. "Get someone in there and you'll have all the knowledge that you need."

Whitley eyed Jackson with disgust. "It takes ages to prep someone for this kind of job. And then it would be far too long until they were in deep enough to deliver useful intel. Even if we had a tutor that might give … tips."

Jackson, smile firm in place, fixed his gaze on Keefe. "Who said anything about tutoring?"

For a moment, silence filled the room.

It wasn't really news to her, but Lisa was still amazed at how good Jackson was with words. The fact that even people like Keefe and Whitley were susceptible to his drawing power gave her a bit of comfort.

"So here's the deal. Nobody out there knows I have been under arrest. As far as they are concerned, I have gone invisible for a while. You let me out and I serve you your precious intel on a silver tray."

"You don't have to be out to give us all your contacts, now do you, Jack?" If Jackson had a trademark smirk, Whitley definitely had a trademark sneer.

Jackson shrugged. "Whitley, you are aware of the fact that this business changes constantly, aren't you? Many of my contacts are probably no longer active, so any list I'd give you now would be very outdated. Either way, you could only get the small fish, maybe pester some low-level enablers. And if word gets out …"

"And what would you do?" Keefe's face gave nothing away.

"I could deliver you the plans, what kind of jobs are out there."

"Employers?"

"No. That would be your job." Jackson's voice was curt. "We never know them ourselves, but someone higher up the ladder does."

"It's an interesting thought, Rippner, I'll give you that." Keefe sounded pensive. "How would you go about it?"

"I need to have full freedom to do the stuff I'm out to do." When Whitley opened his mouth to speak, Jackson cut him off with a snap of his fingers. "I don't care what you have to do to feel safe, tracking-wise, but I can't be seen with any of you. No agents at my house, no inconspicuous cars and homeless people around, whatever. I call the shots, I do what I must and I do it how I think it's best. I report to you, but I don't work under your direct orders as far as strategic decisions are concerned. You have no clue about the system and I can't trust your judgment."

"I repeat, how would you go about it?" Keefe leaned forward, while Whitley slumped back into his chair, lips pressed together.

"Contact some people in the know. Refresh relations with important contacts. Put out an open application, accept meetings and voilà." Jackson shrugged as if it was the easiest thing on earth. But then his eyes fell on Lisa and he cocked his head. "There's just one thing."

She didn't want to know.