"I need to understand."

[cgoddess]

aahh! I didn't realize you were ADDING to this! XD Keep going, you!

[§ilvercell]

ottid!

[Psyche]

"Both of us?" Lisa asked, suddenly realizing that Cleaver would recognize her.
"Come on," Jackson said, standing up and moving towards the door, "Let's go."
"Wait---" Lisa called after him, expressing concern in her voice, "She knows who---"
"I know," Jackson interrupted, "It'll be ok." Jackson glanced at his watch. It had been twenty-five minutes since he had been forced to make that call to the police. They were running out of time.

Teague led Lisa and Jackson down the hallway to Cleaver's hotel suite. They entered the suite, and Lisa's eyes wandered about the room, observing the situation at hand. Max Thompson sat bound and gagged in a chair in the middle of the room. His eyes brightened as they stepped through the door. Jeane Cleaver stood to the right of Thompson, issuing orders to two armed men. After she finished speaking, the men nodded and swiftly exited the room. Cleaver turned to Jackson and Lisa and gave them a puzzled look. "I thought you said Miss Reisert left?" she asked Teague, but received only a baffled expression, "And who is this?" Cleaver pointed in Jackson's direction.
"Jackson Rippner," Jackson replied.
The name struck a chord with Cleaver. "Oh," she said, amused, "I know you by reputation, of course." She paused for a moment, then continued, "So, would anyone care to fill me in?"
"He said he wanted to speak with you," Teague interjected.
"I can see that," Cleaver snapped, "Why don't you let him do so?"

Jackson got straight down to business. "As we speak, an associate of mine is on the phone with the office of Homeland Security," Jackson said, his voice growing more intense with every word, "If in the next three minutes, Mr. Thompson, Miss Reisert, and myself are not released from this hotel, he will disclose to them your affiliation with a certain terrorist organization." Jackson stared into Cleaver's eyes, his face motionless and solemn. Cleaver took in what Jackson had said, pulled out a gun from inside her jacket, and shot Max Thompson in the head. "Do you have a plan B?"

Jackson covered his face with his hands. "Damnit!" he cursed. Cleaver laughed and turned to Teague. "Call back that negotiator and tell him the Chief Financial Officer is dead," she ordered. Teague nodded and exited the suite. Lisa spoke for the first time since entering the room and asked, "Don't you care that their going to find out who you are? How will you get them to release that guy from prison if you no longer have yourself as leverage?"
"I have a whole hotel full of people as leverage, Miss Reisert," Cleaver answered confidently, "and now that Mr. Thompson here is dead and they see that we're quite serious, I think they will be cooperating very shortly."

"You'll lose your position," Lisa contended, "Not to mention you'll be thrown in jail if they catch you."
Cleaver laughed once more. "First rule of politics: a man's word is meaningless, so Rippner's friend can scream and cry accusations all he wants. Secondly, once Ragnar Sebranek is released from prison, I won't be needing that position."
"Ragnar Sebranek is a foolhardy idealist," Jackson scoffed, "and that's why he ended up in prison in the first place."
Cleaver jolted in Jackson's direction, but hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. She clenched her jaw, closed her eyes, and began counting aloud, "One....two....three...."
"I see you've been getting your money's worth out of those psychiatrist visits," Jackson taunted.
Cleaver's eyes shot open, and without hesitation, she smacked Jackson across the face. The blow caused Jackson to lose his footing, and he stumbled a little to the side. "You've been keeping rather close," Cleaver snarled, "What exactly is your role in all this Rippner? Who are you working for?"
"Nobody now," Jackson replied, rubbing his aching cheek.
Cleaver's face grew red with anger. She raised her gun and pointed it at Lisa's head. "I won't ask again," she growled, "Who are you working for?" Lisa turned to Jackson and looked at him pleadingly.
Jackson glanced at Lisa and then turned his stare directly into Cleaver's eyes. "You just killed him."

"What?" Cleaver snapped, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Max Thompson," Jackson replied, "Let's just say he was the one who was going to sign my paycheck. Seeing as he's dead now, that's obviously not going to happen, so why don't you just let Miss Reisert and I go and you can get back to the little terrorist-hostage thing you have going on here."
"Nice try," Cleaver said, c*cking the rifle she still had pointed at Lisa's head, "Explain to me just what exactly Thompson hired you to do."
Jackson looked over at Thomspon's dead body. Double-crossing him now wasn't going to make much of a difference. Jackson sighed. "Thompson hired me to sabatoge your office to make it look like you were being too lax on immigration and customs enforcement. With you fired, he'd be next in line for a big promotion. He was supposed to play the hero, informing central intelligence of truck loads of terrorist weaponry crossing the border, all the while diverting attention from certain funding mismanagements in his own office. Now that's effective politics."
Cleaver began laughing hysterically. "Such an ambitious plan and to be shot in the head before it's carried out," she chuckled, "What a shame."

Cleaver turned to one of the armed men. "Take them and put them with all the others," she ordered, "They'll all die soon anyway."
"What?" Lisa screamed, "You said that if the police cooperated, you'd let us all go!"
Cleaver smiled and winked at Lisa. "Never trust a politician."

[Psyche]

Is "ottid" good or bad?

[Psyche]

Jackson and Lisa followed the armed man into the lobby, past the front desk. Teague called over to them from the desk, "The main dining hall is full. Take them to the bar with the rest of the over-flow." The armed man nodded and led them around the corner and down the hall to the bar. Another armed man stood guarding the entrance. The two men nodded at eachother in acknowledgement, and the guard opened the door. Suddenly, Jackson swung his elbow into the guard's face, snatched the gun from his hands, and shot the other man in the chest. He then turned back to the guard and pummeled the butt of the gun into his forehead, rendering him unconscious. Jackson glanced around cautiously, making sure no one had seen his maneuver. Confirming that the coast was clear, he began dragging the bodies into the hotel bar. Lisa followed him inside.

"Well?" she cried, "What now?"
"I hadn't really thought that far ahead," Jackson said, distracted. He was routing through the men's pockets, searching for anything that could be of use. He found a hand gun and shoved it through his belt. "Personally," he said, "I don't really feel like dying today, so I say we get out of here as fast as possible." Lisa opened her mouth to answer him, but heard a familiar voice from behind call her name, "Lisa---"
"Kevin!" she replied.
"---these men are holding us hostage!" Kevin exclaimed.
"Thanks for the update, Kev!" Jackson quipped. He turned to Lisa, "If we're gonna get out of here, it has to be now."

Lisa looked around her at the people in the bar. Most of them were huddled together in the corner, terrified. Children clung to their mothers, tears streaming down their tiny faces. "No," Lisa said.
"No?" Jackson asked, "No what?"
"I'm not leaving," Lisa answered adamantly, "I'm in charge of this hotel. I'm not leaving all these people here to die and they obviously can't come with us, so I am staying."
"Don't be stupid, Leese," Jackson responded growing impatient.
"Look, Jackson, I held up my part of the bargain," Lisa spoke firmly, "I cooperated. I let you play this your way, and look where it's gotten us. We're doing this my way, now. You can run if you want, but I'm not going anywhere."
Jackson thought for a moment, rolled his head back, and sighed. "Fine," he said, gathering up the weapons he'd extracted from the men and heading towards the door.
"So you're just leaving then?" Lisa cried angrily.
"No!" Jackson answered, annoyed, "but I can't just sit around doing nothing, either. I'm going to find Cleaver."
"Well, then I'm coming with you!" Lisa exclaimed, following him to the door.
"No," Jackson said, turning to her, "You stay here, like you said. Do what you have to to keep these people safe." He took the hand gun from his belt and handed it to her. "Just in case," he said and walked out the door.
"Well where does he think he's going?" Kevin cried. Lisa sighed and turned away. Kevin threw his hands up in the air and muttered sarcastically, "Well this is just great!"

Jackson crept through the hallway, his back against the wall and an M16 in his hands. He had no plan, no predetermined course of action. His blood boiled at the thought that he was no longer in control. Jackson reached the end of the hallway and paused. He slowly and cautiously peeked his head around the corner. Without warning, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his skull. Then there was only darkness.

Jackson's eyes opened, but he saw nothing through the blur and the haze that surrounded him. Finally, his eyes focused on the figure before him. Teague smiled maliciously at him. Jackson looked around and found himself tied to a chair in Lisa's office. Teague sat comfortably on the edge of Lisa's desk. "You're quite the trouble-maker," Teague said, "I might as well tell you now that I've been ordered to kill you, but I thought it only polite to wait till you woke up and ask if you preferred it in the head or the chest?"
"Go to hell," was Jackson's reply.
"You first," Teague said, raising the gun to Jackson's forehead.

The sound of the gun shot echoed through the office and into the hallway.

[beyond_beautiful]

psyche said:

Is "ottid" good or bad?

it means ditto, we just spell it backwards here, ehehe


good story

[Psyche]

Ohh! Haha, thanks!

The final chapter should be added sometime tonight.

[Rania]

OMG.
More, more!
I wanna know what happens
Great job.

[Psyche]

Teague's lifeless body fell at Jackson's feet. Jackson looked up and saw Lisa standing in the doorway, holding a gun in her trembling hands. She stood motionless and horrified, staring at Teague's dead body on the floor. She then diverted her attention to Jackson, darting to his side and quivering as she untied his ropes. Once free of his binds, Jackson grabbed Lisa and pulled her against his body, smashing his lips against hers. Lisa leaned into him acceptingly. Jackson relaxed his embrace and stared deeply into her eyes. "It seems no matter what happens," he whispered, "I can never escape you."
"Funny," she replied, "all this time I thought I was the one trying to escape you." Jackson leaned in once more, but paused when he heard voices in the hallway. Jeane Cleaver marched down the hall followed by two of her armed men. Lisa looked directly into Jackson's eyes. "Let's do this," she said. Jackson dashed over to where Teague lay and began fumbling through his jacket. A moment later he pulled out a twelve inch K-bar, his weapon of choice.

Cleaver and her men strode down the hallway past Lisa's office. Suddenly, they heard a voice call them from behind. "Hey!" They turned around and saw Lisa Reisert take off in the opposite direction down the hall. "After her!" Cleaver cried. The two men bolted down the hallway. Cleaver followed, but stopped halfway down the hall. She paused for a moment and then turned around. Jackson stood an inch from her face with a menacing scowl. "Hello again!" he said and smacked her across the face. Cleaver's head spun with the force of the blow. She turned back around, kicked Jackson in the shins, and then darted into one of the open hotel rooms. Jackson followed her into the room and slammed the door behind him.

Lisa raced down the hall as fast as her legs could carry her. The men were gaining on her, though, and she heard a bullet whisk past her ear. She quickly turned a corner, then another corner, and soon found herself in the hotel kitchen. She dove behind the counter to catch her breath. She heard approaching footsteps and then voices. "Come on! She went in here!" Lisa's heart pounded in her chest and she could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Just then, she heard something crash through the back door that opened from the alley, followed by rapid gunfire. Members of the police S.W.A.T. team plowed through the kitchen and the two men fell dead to the floor.

Jackson Rippner stood over Jeane Cleaver's lifeless body, his twelve inch K-bar dripping with her blood. Jackson's hair was ruffled, his shirt was torn, and he had a gash above his left eye. "Damn," he said aloud, "that was one angry biatch." The door to the hotel room opened. Lisa entered followed by several police officers. "Sir, please put down your weapon," ordered one of the officers. Jackson set his knife down on the floor and backed away from the body.
"It's alright, officer. He didn't do anything wrong," Lisa said, "Jeane Cleaver was a terrorist. She was going to have us all killed. I know it sounds crazy, and you probably don't believe me, but---"
"Oh, I believe you," the officer said, "We received a call from the Homeland Security office in D.C. not more than ten minutes ago informing us they had received an envelope earlier today filled with written correspondences between Cleaver and Ragnar Sebranek. The envelope was simply signed 'J.R.'" Jackson held back a smile, but his twinkling eyes revelead everything.
"You didn't release him, did you?" Lisa asked the officer, "Sebranek, I mean?"
"No ma'am, he's still safely locked away," the officer replied. Lisa let out a sigh of relief. The officer then turned his attention back to Jackson, "Sir, may I ask who exactly you are?"
Lisa answered for him. "He's an employee here at the Lux, officer," she lied, "His name is---Joe."

Lisa Reisert stood outside the evacuated Lux Atlantic hotel. It was the middle of the night, and police swarmed about her in the street. She heard a familiar voice from afar. "Excuse me, officer, I just wanted to tell you all what a great job you did handling the situation tonight. Really great." Lisa winced and brushed away the hair that had fallen across her forehead. Jackson approached from behind and wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. Lisa turned to face him, "There was no associate on the phone with the Homeland Security office, was there?"
"No," Jackson answered, "but I needed leverage."
Lisa still looked puzzled. "I don't understand," she said, "You had already finished the job. You sent those correspondences---sabotaged Cleaver's career. Why did you come to the hotel in the first place?"
"Well, I couldn't very well let them kill Thompson before I got my paycheck, could I?" Jackson replied, then added bitterly, "Looks like my work ended up Pro Bono anyway."
"You're unbelievable," Lisa scoffed.
Jackson grinned and lifted her chin with his fingers, "But that's what you like best about me." He kissed her gently on the lips and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Come on," he said, "At least let me take you somewhere and buy you a drink."
Lisa smiled, "Only if you can guess."

[Psyche]

Well, that's the end. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

[paddykitten]

;D i really enjoyed this... short but sweet...