Author's note: Sorry for the long wait, but holidays, New Year's things and a bit of a struggle with this particular point in the story got in my way. I hope Chapter 36 makes up for it. Many thanks to Royalty09 for her helpful advice.

Also, I have noticed that the PM system seems to be out of order yet again. I love your feedback and WILL answer to all signed reviews as soon as I can. A big Thank You of course to all you anonymous reviewers, too!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 36

Forbish's henchmen dragged rather than led them to another, much friendlier room. A wooden table with food on it, a couple of chairs, a small adjoining bathroom. No windows. Without a word, the men unlocked the handcuffs and left. The sharp click of a key being turned broke the silence.

Lisa peered at the plates. "Is this our last supper?"

"Might be. Either way, I wouldn't eat it." The other woman glanced around. "There's a sink in the bathroom … at least we have water."

Lisa watched the steady trickle going down the drain turn pink as Cherry washed her face. Too restless to sit, she strolled through their new prison, examining it closely.

Cherry gurgled. "Find anything?"

"Like what?"

"Impromptu weapons. Rumor has it you're some kind of expert in that particular area."

"Oh ha-ha." Lisa massaged her temples. "The cutlery's made of plastic."

"Doesn't make much of a difference if the knife in your eye is plastic or metal."

The mental image made her sick to the stomach. "This is it, huh?"

"Yeah." Cherry leaned against the doorframe, drying herself with a towel. "Whatever pain you're in right now, it's nothing compared to what's ahead." She tossed it aside carelessly. "This is our only chance."

"So … we wait until they come back and then we attack? That our plan?"

"Got a better one?" The harshness in Cherry's tone softened somewhat as she approached Lisa with a weary smile. "Listen, we have one advantage - you."

"Me?!"

"They know who I am and they know what I am, but you … you're just a punk to them, an amateur, and a sissy little girl on top of that. Whatever you have managed to pull off so far, they'll chalk up to sheer luck. Some massive egos at work here."

"Don't forget they're right! I'm no … no Trinity or something."

"Fine, so you're no Trinity, but you're desperate, you're determined and you are aware that you're going to die if we don't make it out of here."

"I can't do this!" Lisa shook her head. "I can't just ... plan to kill people!"

"I expect nothing from you that you haven't done before, Lisa." Lisa wasn't sure which scared her more – the absolute finality in Cherry's words or the simple truth. "All I want is for you to make the first step. They'll keep a closer watch on me and that's our one and only leverage. Forget about the grey, focus on the black and white! We die, they live - they die, we live. Nothing is simpler."

Lisa pressed her trembling hands to her ears, not wanting to hear another sentence. Too late; Cherry's voice had wormed itself into her very brain, swirling and twisting, setting in motion a chain of thought that ended with the inevitable. There was a fundamental mistake in the other woman's argument somewhere … something to do with the lofty difference between acting and reacting, something to do with ... Geez, knock it the hell off, you dreamer, you're on your own. No other way out. "O-okay."

"Good." Cherry squeezed her arm. "It isn't easy, honey, but that's your path and you gotta walk it. We have to be fast, we have to be deadly. You kill a guy, you take his weapon and his ammunition. We need all the firepower we can get."

Lisa nodded slowly, the weight of the world on her shoulders. "How?"

----------

Whitley was driving, casting a sidelong glance at the man in the passenger seat. Jackson Rippner was quiet, staring into the distance with a shrouded eye, and if it weren't for the whiteness of his knuckles, he would have almost seemed relaxed.

Apparently sensing the attention, Rippner sat up abruptly. "We'll be there soon."

The panorama had gradually changed from city to suburbs to rural. About twenty minutes ago they had passed the last little town and entered a stretch of land that was dominated by forests and greenery, the occasional house in between.

"Right." Whitley chomped on his gum, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

"Your guys ready?"

"Yeah."

The remoteness of the meeting place proved to be one of the riskiest factors in the entire operation. Forbish certainly had all roads under surveillance, so sneaking in their reinforcements with them was difficult. Evaluating their options, Whitley had decided to go in alone at first, with an air strike by helicopter if – correction: as soon as - push came to shove. His agents would be at Forbish's in about seven minutes.

A lot could happen in seven minutes.

----------

They had thrown the trays across the room, painting an interesting picture of spilled drink and food onto the floor. Lisa was hoping with all her heart that their fabricated chaos would divert the spotlight off the missing knives. The lock turned and instinctively, she huddled against the wall, into Cherry's arms.

The two men – Lisa had christened them Grey and Navy after the color of their suits - stepped inside and closed the door, taking in the mess with a bored look before they deliberately advanced on the two women.

"Listen, guys, Lisa is scared and she just needs -"

Grey raised his hand. "Let's go back to the other room without any fuss, girls."

"Hold on a second!" Pity she was a terrorism enabler, Cherry could have been one hell of an actress.

"Miss Stettyson, step away." It was true, both men focused on her rather than on the sniveling civilian girl. Get ready.

Cherry released Lisa slowly, slinking back along the wall, and Grey followed her swiftly. It didn't make much of a difference, yet Lisa felt relieved that Navy, the slighter of the two, was to be her opponent. He held her in check with merely one careless arm while most of his attention was on the blonde woman.

"Take it easy, Grey." Their code … it was up to Lisa now.

Finally, Navy made his mistake.

He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to issue a command, letting go of her completely. Lisa had planned this moment over and over and over, yet now that it had come, all she wanted to do was to curl up and vomit. Spit pooled underneath her tongue. NO! You HAVE to do this. Lisa obeyed.

She pummeled his chest with the knife, but tears she hadn't known she was shedding obscured her vision. Grunting a curse, he stumbled and Lisa launched herself at him. She might as well have jumped a pile of bricks; Navy caught her easily, smashing her against the wall. Her bruised ribs blazed out an agonizing flash of pain and in a blurry haze, Lisa saw Grey and Cherry go at it, their moves controlled, effective. Even though she was bleeding, the blonde woman appeared to be in control, a broken wineglass in her hands slashing at Grey every now and then. His pistol lay at his feet, but she left him no time to pick it up. We can still win. Don't muck it up now. Almost as if he had heard Lisa's thoughts, Navy kicked her. His dismissive snort rekindled the angry flame that seemed to burn so closely beneath the surface nowadays and Lisa's fingers fumbled around for a more potent weapon, finding one. Like a snake in the grass, she struck at his heels; the shard of glass sliced through his tendons with a snap. Navy went down.

"His gun, Lisa!"

Lisa ground her knee into his groin as she crawled on top of him. Navy heaved, swatting at her, and the force of his arm sent her weapon flying out of her grasp. With a desperate cry, she pushed her weight down onto his neck while she reached into his pocket. There! Lisa toppled over backwards, chilled metal firmly in her grip.

"LISA!"

She sat up, a heavy heart thumping in her chest. Rubber legs sleepwalked her over to Cherry, who had managed to force Grey even further away from his pistol. Lisa felt all eyes on her; other than that, the room was perfectly and eerily still.

"Give me the gun, Lisa." When she didn't react, Cherry promptly pried it from her shaking, bloody hands. "Don't look, honey."

Lisa's silent pleas turned shrill. "Wait! We don't have to sh-"

BANG!

Cherry moved.

BANG!

'Nothing is simpler.' Oh God, what a lie.

----------

"Jackson Rippner?"

"Yes, Jackson Rippner and his associate, Richard Williams."

From the looks of the massive iron gate, Whitley had anticipated a loud, creaking noise, but it slid apart quickly, silently. He pressed his lips together and slowly drove along the gravel driveway. Let the games begin.

(Bang!)

"FUCK! What was that?" Whitley jumped on the brakes, well-trained eyes immediately skimming their surroundings while he grabbed his gun.

"Keep moving!"

"They're shooting." Whitley pulled out his cell and pressed a button. Seven minutes.

"They're not shooting at us! MOVE!"

"What the -" He was cut short by a cold steel barrel to the temple.

"I told you to keep moving and if you don't want your brains plastered all over the damn windshield, you're going to do exactly as I say."

"Easy, Rippner."

"We need to hurry." For a moment, Whitley thought he was hallucinating. Jackson Rippner, High King of Heartless Bastard Land, actually sounded urgent, voice rumbling with something more than its usual detached calculation. Also, he was grinning from ear to ear. "It's the ladies."