Chapter 12: Double-Crossed

Jill was frozen in shock. Her eyes got watery, and she felt her chest compress like an accordion. It was a different feeling than that usually associated with danger. Instead of the regular spike of adrenaline that came along with her making up some genius plan, there was a new emotion involved. She felt betrayed.

She should have suspected something, of course. She was too caught up in her dream of staying in the valley to notice what they were planning. If only she had seen the signs, listened harder, anything, she might have realized what was going on.

It was then that the obvious occurred to her. Hardy. He must have been the one that ransacked her house after the festival, which meant he knew she had the flash drive, or at least he suspected it.

Jill's hand moved instinctively to her collarbone. The key was still there, tucked safely underneath her shirt. As long as no one had the key, they couldn't open her journal: it was a special, tiny lock, made by Hawk himself, that she had stolen from the organization before she left. Impossible to pick, and even harder to pull off. Besides, who would suspect to look for a flash drive in a diary?

Then again, Jill thought, they might look in the diary for hints.

Her mind reeled like an old fashioned movie projector. She probably would have been able to stand there for a few more hours, just thinking, had Hardy not spoken up again.

"We'll have to wait, Trent," Hardy continued. "Just a little longer. I'm patient, you're patient, Taro's patient. Besides, we've been living here for years, and I've grown to like it here more than just a place to stay for a while. This is home. We aren't just pawns for Hawk to place wherever he wants anymore."

The words didn't quite register in Jill's mind, and she felt sick to her stomach. She moved away from the kitchen curtain slowly, quieter than a blade of grass blowing in the wind, and turned to the entrance of the inn. Her head buzzed with questions and accusations. If Hardy and Trent was with Hawk, then who else? Celia? Muffy?

She slipped outside without a sound, and tried to walk nonchalantly to her farm, praying to the Goddess all the way that none of her friends would randomly step outside and request her assistance in something or another. She needed time to think. It felt like hours had passed, but really only minutes had gone by, and suddenly she was in danger even though the valley had felt so safe and tranquil.

As Jill made her way home, she started chiding herself. You should have suspected it, really, she thought. I mean, you're never safe anymore, are you? There's always someone that knows Hawk. He and Luther are everywhere.

That was when her other side kicked in. No, it's not your fault, it said. It's human nature to want relationships and a safe place. You were just giving in to that, and it's fine. You just have to get out of here now.

When Jill saw her farm, her house, come into view, her heart nearly broke. This wasn't fair. She wanted to pound at the ground and scream at the Goddess and say it wasn't right, it wasn't just, but instead she settled with tensing and relaxing her hands, making them into fists and then stretching them out again.

Once inside, Jill fell onto her bed, and, surprisingly enough, didn't break down. She started at the ceiling, making patterns out of the wood with mind, thinking about how the rain sounded so gentle while inside of her a storm was brewing.

She decided to take her journal out of her rucksack and write a bit in it. She tried desperately to ignore the flash drive that sat like a harmless little lump in the cover, but all she could think about was that it was pretty much the reason she felt like this.

With a shake of the head and a click of the pen, Jill began her entry.

This doesn't make any sense. Hardy and Trent seem to have betrayed me, because they were talking about a "mission" and whatnot, and I'm the subject. Of course, they didn't say my name, but why would they? Anyway, my own doctor and friend are out to kill me and claim a reward. Awesome. They've bit sitting here in the valley for years just waiting for me to stop by.

But there are a few things that just don't fit. Trent, for example, nearly ran over me with his buggy the first day I met him. If he knew it was me, why didn't he just kill me off then, and say it was an accident? And Hardy could have sedated me any time he wanted during those checkups, and he never did. He didn't even poison me with that crazy herb lotion. And yet they're out to kill me. It just doesn't fit.

Hardy must have been the one to break into my house, though. I should have listened to Skye; he said there were some dangerous people around here.

Maybe I should talk to him. Or maybe I should just leave. That sounds like a better idea.

Jill paused at this point, and took a deep breath. The problem was she didn't want to go. She was putting so many people in danger, though, and so it was the right thing for her to go. Wasn't it?

I don't know who to treat better, she wrote. The people around me, or myself. Should I be selfish and let myself stay here even though I'm putting all of my new friends at risk, or should I just leave right now? And what about the Goddess? She said that me taking care of the farm was giving her strength. That's so important, the people need her, and I need her. So is it selfish of me to leave, too?

After closing the pages with a slam, Jill threw both the journal and the pen on the cool wood floor of her house and flopped down onto her pillow. A groaning noise came out of her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

Hardy was smart, that was for sure. He had proved that because she now trusted him with all of her heart, even though he surely wanted to kill her, or at least throw her over to Hawk. Jill wondered if it was possible that he had been planning all of this all along, and the thought made her even more sick to her stomach. She was sure his actions had been genuine, that he had actually cared for her as a friend as well as patient, but now she didn't have a clue.

And who was that Melissa girl they had been talking about? And Taro?

I should have stayed longer, she thought, and picked up more of the conversation, or something.

Embarrassment of her failure to realize what was going on crashed down on the girl. Her own ignorance was enough to take her life away from her yet again. The impending doom was almost too much to bear.

Just as she was about to pass out from sheer exhaustion and upset, a tiny, tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered, no.

No. I'm done running.

Jill felt a strange lightness in her chest as the decision was made firm in her mind. She was done running from Hawk. She wasn't going to play his game anymore. The field was hers to play, too, and she had just as much power as he did. She would stay in the valley, because it was now her home, just as Hardy had grown to think of it. She was stronger than this. She had dealt with Hawk for over three years; she could deal with him a little longer.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she thought to herself, Angst party over, Jill. You can do this. Get up.

She continued like this for the next half hour, accomplishing little things around the house by giving herself simple, clear instructions. Wash some dishes, wash some laundry, clean up the bathroom, clean up the kitchen. Slowly, through the tiny accomplishments, she regained some mental and emotional strength.

She thought of what her mother used to say about housework: "It's the best kind of happy-maker, because you can see the progress you make really easily." While she hadn't heard the words from her own mother's mouth in a very long time, they still stuck with her whenever she started tidying up.

When she put the last of her four plates in the cupboard, Jill swore she could almost feel her mom there with her, putting her hands on her hips and saying in a satisfied voice, "Well, that's that, Jilly-Billy. What next?"

Jill smiled a little to herself, and thought, We save this valley, and the Goddess, that's what's next, Mom.

• • •

Far away, Hawk drummed his fingers absentmindedly on his glass desk. It was mid-afternoon, but no sun penetrated his office, because it was at the very base of the organization, far underground. Normal civilians could only see the top half of the organization, a large glass structure that posed as an office building. They made some money off of that business, too, which is what gave Hawk his name as a CEO in the real world, but the bulk of the money came from the crime.

Hawk was alone in the large room. His guards were on lunch break, and he had requested that their replacements leave him and his son, who had not arrived yet, in peace. If need be, they could easily defend themselves.

While he waited for Luther to arrive, Hawk's mind slowly went over details of the previous day's report. Only a select few knew that Jill Knight was still on the run. The rest were left to believe that she had been killed back when she was still running through France, which had been at least two and a half seasons ago, but there were still rumors, and Hawk was working hard to demolish them. The last thing he needed was a rebellion, or another exposing to the government. That had destroyed Project X.

Or, at least, most of it.

Moments later, the wide French door opened, and in stepped Luther Hawk. His platinum blond hair was spiked up as usual, and he was wearing a black shirt that fit his form nicely, making him look attractive and intimidating at the same time. Hawk felt a rush of pride for his son. Luther was one of the only things in the world besides money that actually brought the man happiness. Hawk had trained him well.

Luther smiled as he walked toward the black leather chair opposite Hawk, and said, "Sorry I'm late. Fitzy had me do an example of a blocking exercise for a few of the new recruits, and I couldn't deny him. I thought I was going to be early otherwise."

"Its fine," Hawk replied, and smiled as Luther took a seat. "I'm glad Mr. Fitzgerald knows who to call when he needs a representation."

Luther flashed his white teeth again, and then asked, "So, what's this about? Considering there's no food or servicemen here, I doubt we're having a friendly father-son lunch."

"No, unfortunately, not today," Hawk said. "Actually, we need to talk about Jill Knight."

Luther visibly stiffened. His blue eyes suddenly turned icy as well as held a bit of hurt in them, which Hawk somewhat expected. He too sometimes missed the girl. Neither of them could deny that she fit in with them like a lost puzzle piece. In her time of loyalty, she had completed the slightly dysfunctional family.

"Have they found her?" Luther asked slowly, his voice void of any emotion.

Hawk, impressed with his son's nonchalance, replied thoughtfully, "We have an idea of the area she's in. We were onto her less than a season ago, you realize, and there's only so many places she could be by now. But, we do have a lead."

Luther's eyes lit up. "What kind of lead?"

"Nothing you can be sent in for," Hawk said, and Luther slumped a little. Hawk, feeling a small bit of pity for his son, continued, "I know it's hard, Luther. I miss her, too. But you've got to remember she's an enemy now."

The blond's face hardened like stone. "Miss her? I want her dead." He paused, took a moment to regain a steely composition, and asked, "Anyway, what's the lead? Has that silver-head finally gotten back to us?"

"John?" When Luther nodded, Hawk answered, "Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be taking our threat very seriously. I'll have to convince him a little more thoroughly before he's of any use to us, but he will come around eventually. He has to, because I don't think our legitimate source will be of much help. You know those Black Market men, never quite active like we are."

He was about to continue when Luther interrupted, "A lead from the Black Market? Jill wouldn't...I mean, you trained her, she isn't stupid enough to associate with them while on the run. Do you really believe this guy?"

"He told me it happened by chance," Hawk explained. "Anyway, I think I'm going to contact John again and make him an offer he can't refuse. We've got the bait set, now all we need her to do is bite. Then she's ours."

They were both silent for a moment. Ours. Luther felt his insides turn. What would it be like to see Jill again? He hadn't seen her since he shot her. He needed to apologize, he needed to explain, but at the same time there was a burning rage inside of him that wanted to kill her, pressure her until she exploded. His heart ached to see her, and yet he was dreading the day it finally happened.

Hawk, on the other hand, was eager to finally have her under control again. He had plans, grand ideas, threats she couldn't refuse that would bring Project X back into production. His skin crawled with excitement just thinking about it.

"When she comes back," Luther began, "what exactly are we going to do with her?"

Hawk chuckled. "I've got a plant to bring Project X back."

From across the desk, Luther's eyes widened. "Project X?" Without making an attempt to hide his surprise, he objected, "Project X is long gone, father. You know we can't bring it back, not now that the government knows the main gist of it. We were too close to getting caught last time, the Board would have our heads and our organization. You know how badly York wants this building, he'll jump at the first opportunity."

"Luther, you seem to be forgetting that Jill was the creator of Project X," Hawk explained, "and if anyone will know how to continue it without making a fuss, she will. If we're correct in her location, there's a lot of threats I can make to bring her back here. Plus, we've still got a few other tricks up our sleeves, including that cousin in Flowerbud that she thinks is so safe. Just trust me, Luther...and don't tell any of your friends about it, please."

The two men spent a few more minutes talking about random happenings at the organization. Luther had very recently returned from a project deep in the heart of the city, and Hawk wanted a more in-depth explanation of the results than the one Thomas and Kyle had given him. The project had resulted splendidly, and they were well on their way to being top candidates for the Board reelection. That's when things would really get going.

After Luther left, Hawk let himself revel in his clever thoughts for a bit. Everything was going exactly as planned. Finally, he knew just how to capture Jill. She was too soft-hearted, too compassionate, and that was her downfall. If he could get John to cooperate, then everything would fall into place.

John had been with the organization a long time ago, but events had happened that made it necessary for him to be released. Since then Hawk had kept close tabs on him, tracking his every move. They had a deal, and Hawk was going to make sure John fulfilled it.

Carefully, he reached for the sleek black phone on the corner of his desk. He dialed the number for the second time that season, and waited patiently as it rang.

Moments later, a crackling noise occurred, and then a groggy voice answered, "Hello?"

"John," Hawk cooed mockingly. "So good to hear your voice again. How are you, my boy?"

Silence. It was so quiet on the other end that Hawk could see the silver-head freeze in his mind. John had a strange quality that prevented him from fearing Hawk, so he usually didn't do what the man asked. But this time, the organization CEO had the upper hand.

Finally, there was a reply. "What do you want, Hawk?" His voice was icy, and Hawk smiled with pleasure.

"I really wish you would have stayed with the organization, John. You're so fearless, it sends goosebumps down my spine. Really, it does. Such a waste for you to run away."

"I didn't run away," John sighed. There was a rustle of what sounded like fabric on the other end, and then he continued, "You kicked me out for nearly exposing you all, remember? Too bad, though, because I heard a few months ago that you've got a new problem on your hands, a girl that happened to accomplish exactly what I intended. How's that going for you? Big man Hawk doesn't feel so big on the Board anymore, does he?"

"I'm still big enough that I can have the Board track you down and kill you."

"And you know I'll get away, because I always do. How many times have you tried to get me killed, now? Three, four? Counting the apartment explosion incident, that's five. And yet you still can't get enough of your shit together to-"

"You watch your tongue, kid, or I'll blow that valley of yours to smithereens and you can say goodbye to your little house on the prairie," Hawk growled.

That surprised John. Hawk was met with silence, and his lips curled up into a menacing smirk, allowing the boy time for the words to sink in.

Finally, in a much calmer voice, John asked, "So how did you find me this time? I was hoping the same phone number would throw you off."

"It did, for a while, actually," Hawk chuckled. "But I have a source in that valley, John. Even you should suspect that."

"I was mostly relying on luck, actually," John replied, and then there was a sharp squeal in the background. "Hold on, Hawk, just give me a second to pour this tea."

Hawk raised an eyebrow even though he was aware of the fact that John couldn't see it. "You have company?"

"No," John replied. "Why, should I be expecting some?"

"Not any of mine," Hawk replied. "I just find it unprofessional that you're drinking tea while negotiating a deal with someone who would prefer you dead but needs your resources."

"Well, negotiate away, good Ol' Hawk-y boy. What's the deal?"

"Same as the message I left you a week ago. Bring me the girl by the end of fall, and you can expect never to hear from me again."

"And if I decide that, for once, I don't want to run around playing Prince Charming to satisfy your schemes?" John asks, and takes an audible drink of tea.

"You and every measly person in that valley dies. One girl, or good people and your own life. Your choice."

There is a long pause, so long, in fact, that Hawk is about to see if John is still there, but then he replies. "Give me until the second week of winter and you have a deal. I have to actually find the girl first."

"It shouldn't take to long, she has to be within a certain radius, but your standards are accepted. It was nice negotiating with you again, John. Or should I call you Skye now?"

The only reply Hawk received was the slamming of a phone against a receiver.

• • •

A/N: Shortish chapter. Sorry. Reviews? Thanks everybody. :)