Gravity Pulls You Down Ch 18: CG Returns ;)

[Pukkina]

You are like, the best writer EVER. If you stop I may have to pull a Jackson and kill you.

[cgoddess]

Hey! Wow, you guys rule. There is NOTHING like opening up mail and this forum to see responses from people who like my fic. XD *glomps you ALL*

I'm working on Chapter 15 RIGHT NOW, so I'll probably have it up Saturday or Sunday.

ALSO...I'm on Yahoo IM as chocobogoddess, so drop me a line if you guys are on! I'm ALWAYS invisible, so don't be shy if you don't see me. If I'm able to talk, I WILL reply. Just let me know you're from the Cillian forum if you friend me; I decline invites if I don't know who they are.

So yeah. Working now. Got some action coming up in the next chapter, yes, yes, we do!

CG

[Rania]

Yay.
I can't wait.
And I totally agree with redeyefan.

[cgoddess]

Sorry about the long wait, guys. My art updates and my original writing take precedence over fanfic, and I've been putting in a lot of time working for my dad on top of that. Thanks for the support and the great comments; they make me happy!

CG


Chapter 15: On My Honor

Disclaimer: I do not own Red Eye. I just about fell over when I found out Carl Ellsworth wrote for Cleopatra 2525. :heart: I loved that show, I really did. The preceding statement has nothing to do with my fic or the disclaimer, but it needed to be said. XD

.-.-.-.-.

Breakfast was a hasty affair at six in the morning, the Continental-style fare eaten in strained silence. After enduring five minutes of his employers’ distraction, Frank impatiently grabbed a croissant and went down to get the car, leaving Lisa and Jackson alone in the room to gather their things. Lisa considered taking a quick shower, but settled for freshening up and changing out of her rumpled clothes. Clean khakis and comfortable loafers helped brighten her appearance, if not her mood. Once she’d managed to tame her wild hair into a loose half-braid, she emerged to find Jackson waiting by the door, bags in hand. He failed to meet her eyes.

Not that she could meet his. She found herself embarrassed and confused by turns, with a moment or two of wondering if she’d done the right thing by pushing him away.

Of course she had. Hadn’t she?

Lisa checked them out of the inn, handing her key to a yawning Diana. She felt a pang of sympathy for the poor girl who had pulled the night shift and was obviously ready to go home. Lisa had had her share of those—it was one thing she never, ever missed about her old job.

The dark, overcooked aroma of nearby coffee made Lisa’s mouth water. She desperately wanted a cup to go, but Jackson was already holding the door open. With one last longing look at the pot, she followed him to the car.

Everything outside was blue and grey and quiet. There was still dew on the grass, on the street, on the old lamp-post in front of the inn and on the leaves of the magnolia bushes. Even the sounds of the car doors opening and closing were muffled. No one spoke, whether they were tired or simply had nothing to say, and Lisa buckled her belt with a soft sigh.

“We’ll stop later,” Jackson said, his voice subdued as though he, too, noticed how peaceful the world was and wanted to keep it that way. Lisa tilted her head in question, and he went on. “Once we’ve gone over the border to North Carolina, we’ll get coffee.” He hesitated, then, “You looked like you wanted some.”

“I did,” she replied somewhat warily.

He nodded, satisfied, and looked out his window.

.-.-.-.-.

By the time the Audi pulled onto the highway, the sun had burned away the clouds that muted its pale light. The mood in the car had turned professional, polite. Frank no longer bantered with either of them, and Jackson kept his eyes on the scenery. Lisa rested her chin on her hand. She looked out her own window but saw nothing; her attention had turned inward. Every mile that passed brought them closer and closer to Annapolis, closer to the death of a man she wasn’t entirely sure deserved to die.

Perhaps it would have been easier if she didn’t know the intended victim. Something seemed off about this whole thing to begin with, something above and beyond the unease she felt about helping Jackson plan someone else’s assassination.

She hadn’t helped him, though, really. Why was she here, anyway? He hadn’t used her for information, hadn’t tried to coerce her into pulling the trigger, hadn’t even asked her if she knew when Michael Rowe and Don Connolly would be available. All she’d been so far was…what? A passenger? A companion? A pawn?

Lisa felt like she’d been swept along by the tide that was Jackson Rippner. All she could do at this point was exactly what she’d been doing all along: sit on her side of the car and watch the highway go by until she was actually needed.

.-.-.-.-.

It should have been a five-and-a-half hour drive to Fredericksburg, but with Frank’s driving, they pulled up in front of the unassuming coffeeshop in four. The place was small, paneled in dark wood, populated only by the barista and a few locals. No one around looked anything like what Lisa expected Jackson’s contact to be. Jackson, too, seemed a little uneasy as he leaned over to her side and peered out her window.

He pursed his lips as he thought, concentrating on the faces that passed by. At last, he muttered, “Wait here,” and opened his door.

“Jackso—”

“Stay with Frank,” he ordered, ducking his head down to pin her with a sharp stare. “I’ll be right back.”

She felt far out of her depth, but held his gaze for a long moment. “Fine,” she said at length. He watched her for a few seconds more as if he expected her to say more, then briskly he shut the door. She saw him walk around the front of the car and into the coffeeshop.

“Why am I even here?” she mused softly. She wasn’t expecting an answer, but then Frank spoke up.

“He’s keeping an eye on you.”

“What?”

His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “He’s watching out for you. He wants to make sure he knows you’re all right while he does his thing.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “You’d have to ask him. I’m just the driver.”

.-.-.-.-.

She was getting bored after an hour of sitting there, though the boredom was edged with fear, worry. How long should it take for Jackson to get the information he needed? What if something happened, and she and Frank weren’t around to help him? What if—

The door of the coffeeshop swung open, and Jackson appeared. He was followed by a dark-haired man in a grey suit. Not black, but it was close enough to remind her of the suits that had been trying to kill them for the past few days. It made her nervous. She instinctively shrank back from the window when the man looked over at the car in curiosity. Something plucked at her memory, something about the shape of the man’s jaw, or the set of his shoulders.

“Frank?” Lisa murmured, “Your windows are tinted, aren’t they?”

“Naturally.”

She could hear the unspoken question. “I think I know him…” She drifted off, watching Jackson talk to him. They shook hands, and Lisa saw the flash of a gold watch on the other man’s wrist, the only spot of color on an otherwise colorless man.

“Lisa?”

She jumped. “Sorry.” She had to shake her head to clear it. “It’s just…the man Jackson is talking to—he looks familiar. But I don’t know, I can’t tell from here. You know?” For some reason, she didn’t want the man in the suit to see her.

“Hmm.” He craned his neck, but by then Jackson had already started on his way back. Frank prepared to pull away from the curb once Jackson was inside. He checked his driver’s side mirror for any oncoming cars. Something made him blink, then frown, and in a voice that made Lisa’s blood freeze, he said quietly, “Buckle up.”

The man in the suit had disappeared in the other direction. Jackson strode to the car and got in. To Lisa, he said, “Well, that was, ah, fruitful. I have some possible opportunities. We can discuss them on our way to your place.”

“Actually,” Frank interrupted, “I’d appreciate it if you discuss it another time so I can concentrate now.” His eyes met Jackson’s in the mirror, and Jackson stiffened.

“You’re joking.”

Frank’s only reply was to shift very suddenly into reverse, then first, pulling out of the parallel space and joining the steady stream of holiday traffic on the street. Lisa clung to the door handle and braced her arm on the front seat’s headrest. Jackson fastened his own belt with alacrity and flung the laptop bag’s strap across his shoulder.

“How long have they been following us?” he demanded. Lisa risked a glance backward to see a pair of black SUVs pulling into traffic in a similar manner behind them.

“They just showed up.” Frank’s voice was tight, his words terse. His gaze never wavered from the road ahead. Fredericksburg was barely more than a large town with few chances to hide, so they were reduced to simply outpacing their pursuers. The holiday shoppers made it difficult to gain much headway, though Frank wove in and out of spaces Lisa would have sworn were impossibly too tight for the Audi to fit. In this way, he got some precious distance between them, though it was still not enough to lose them.

“Guys—” Lisa saw one of the SUVs’ passenger-side windows lower and a black metallic object was pointed at them. “I think one has a—”

Jackson pushed her head down as the now-familiar clatter of bullets showered the back window. The glass held despite some scratches; Lisa briefly wondered at the idea that she was forever riding in bulletproof cars. “sh*t, Frank, get us out of here!”

“Working on it.” He made as if to take the first turn before the highway, but immediately veered back onto the main road, narrowly missing a pedestrian with a small child that had been crossing the street he’d tried to turn down. From somewhere behind them a police siren began to wail, and both men swore in unison.

They were only a mile or so from the highway; Lisa could see it arcing over the road they were on even from where she sat. Frank’s jaw twitched, his eyes catching every tiny detail around the car, planning alternate routes (of which there were none) and making sure townsfolk didn’t get caught up in the chase. He swerved to avoid a bicyclist. “Both of you, get ready to get out.”

“What?” Lisa’s head snapped up so fast it hurt. “But—”

Jackson’s hand on her arm made her still. “You’re going to run decoy?”

“Yeah.” Frank’s glance flickered back to them and then to the road. “We have a shot coming up, but you gotta be ready. It’ll look like I’m turning around, but I’ll double back to the highway by a different route. You guys make sure you have what you need.”

Jackson looked at Lisa, who realized he was waiting for her response. She nodded. In the movement of the car, it was difficult to tell, but she could have sworn he smiled a little. He unsnapped his seatbelt and Lisa did the same. Jackson turned to Frank. “We’re ready.”

“Good.”

There was no warning, just a swift sharp turn like a roller coaster car. Lisa was flung against Jackson, who, instead of helping her sit up, pulled her closer. She began to struggle automatically, but then the car stopped and threw them around, and then Jackson’s door was open, and they were tumbling to the pavement together. Jackson kicked the door shut and rolled back just in time to avoid being crushed by the retreating Audi.

They both took a gasping breath, then Jackson was on his feet. “Come on!” He hauled her up by her arm, already heading toward a door in the wall. They were in a small loading area between two stores, hidden from the street by the proximity of the two brick buildings. Lisa didn’t have time to examine her surroundings, however, for Jackson yanked the miraculously unlocked door open and pushed her through, then followed. The storeroom was dark inside, unlit except for high, dirty windows that let in some of the day.

Lisa and Jackson paused just inside the door, panting, eyes adjusting to the darkness. They were at the top of a concrete landing surrounded by a metal pipe rail. It seemed to be a hardware shop’s storeroom, stacked with boxes and cans of paint. A short flight of steps led to the floor.

The squeal of tires outside galvanized them both into action. They ran down the stairs and deeper into the room, hugging the boxes and keeping to the shadows. Behind them, in the alley, they heard the sound of doors slamming shut and shouted orders as the vehicle turned to follow Frank’s trail.

“Look around for them,” came the muffled voice of one man. “Check everywhere!”

Jackson pulled Lisa back against him, deeper into the darkness. She felt a concrete block wall scrape against her shoulder, then Jackson’s fingers covered her lips.

“Don’t move,” he breathed into her ear. He gently moved around her, positioned himself between her and the open room like a shield.

There was a faint flare of bluish light from outside when the door opened slowly, cautiously. Hard-soled shoes sounded on the stairs, first one set and then another, and then the door closed once more. The beams of two flashlights began to sweep through the darkened room, methodically moving toward their hiding place.

Lisa fought the panic that rose in her chest as the sounds and the lights grew closer. She couldn’t see anything save the silhouettes of boxes and shelves near the windows; even Jackson was nothing more than a warm solid presence between her and the men hunting them, pressing her backward. She could smell the asphalt on them both, the papery, dusty boxes, the cold tang of the .45, the faint scent of hotel soap that Jackson had used that morning. He was steady, sure, and she tried to draw upon that feeling in order to keep herself together.

Whoever the men in suits were, they knew how to be efficient. They said nothing to each other, just swept the flashlights down each row of boxes, one after another after another, always moving forward. They would discover Jackson and Lisa in no time, and only Jackson was armed. If the cleanup crew wanted them dead, the situation was definitely in the favor of the crew at this moment.

All at once, another door opened on the opposite side of the room. The center bank of lights blazed to life. Several pairs of booted feet tramped down the stairs—they must have been people from the store itself, for a deep Virginia drawl called out, “What in hell is goin’ on here?”

There was the sound of scuffling, then their pursuers retreated, running up the stairs they’d come in. The store workers shouted after them, three burly men in jeans and flannel running down the main aisle of the boxes to chase the black suits out.

Thankfully, Lisa and Jackson were still cloaked in shadow, so when the workers eventually came back, grumbling to each other about thieves, no one saw them. One of the men made a cursory inspection of the storeroom, barely even looking in the direction of the couple in hiding before heading back up the other stairs to the store again. The lights went out once more, and the door slammed shut.

Then, and only then, did Jackson let out a deep breath. He turned to check on Lisa and spoke in a hushed voice. “Still in one piece?”

She nodded. “You?”

“I will be very upset if my suit is ruined.” He sounded like he was only half-joking. “Didn’t expect to be saved by an angry stockboy, though.”

“So what now?” She felt her own breathing return to normal, bit by bit. Her heart still thundered, though it, too, was calming. “What about Frank?”

He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. When she remained standing, he patted the ground beside him. “We wait. It’s unlikely that we’ll see Frank again, not for a long time. Don’t worry, he’ll be all right—better now that we’re not slowing him down. He’ll lead the cars in another direction as long as he can, and by the time they catch up with him or he loses them, we’ll be long gone.”

“We will, huh?” Lisa joined him on the floor. Her hand stung from being scraped when they fell out of the car, and her whole right shoulder ached from colliding with the pavement. “What’s the plan, then? We’re so close to Annapolis.”

Jackson set the laptop bag between them and fished around in one of the pockets, producing a candy bar that had apparently borne the brunt of the impact. He unwrapped it and broke it in half, handing a piece to her. “We wait for the shops to close, then we wait for the town to go to sleep, and then we leave. I’ll call us a cab once we’re in a different spot, get out of town, and drop you off at your place.”

“And then?”

“Then,” he said, his mouth full of chocolate and peanuts, “I act on the information my contact gave me regarding Connolly’s schedule. He’s going to be—”

“Wait, you’re still going to trust that guy?” She couldn’t believe it. “After what just happened?”

“Why not?”

“Hello, the suit?” He gave her an amused look that she read even in the poor light. “Fine, so his was grey, and around here, that could mean anything. But still. There’s something wrong with the picture, and he’s a big part of the problem.”

He shook his head. “We don’t have much choice. I take what information I can get—besides, if nothing else, you can confirm it based on what you know about the D.C. social calendar. The info is good.”

“I’m telling you, Jackson. That guy you were talking to—I know him from somewhere. I’ve seen him before.”

“Of course you have.” He leaned his head back against the cool concrete. “He’s an infiltrator, Leese. They’re everywhere; how else do you think we get accurate intelligence? You’ve probably seen him at a party or in the halls of one of the State buildings. People like him make a career out of blending in, fitting in like everyone else in places where no one can possibly know every person who works there.”

Lisa pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “I guess so. It just seemed like too much of a coincidence. You know?”

“Let me handle it anyway. I’ve dealt with this guy for a long time, and I know what I’m doing. Just trust me, okay?”

She looked at him, found the faint gleam of his eye in the fading, filtered daylight. It was such an offhand question, but it struck her that she had to choose one way or another eventually. Did she trust him? Could she?

He was watching her again, his easy manner changing to a more sober one as he waited for the answer.

“I trust you,” she said at last, shakily. Then, stronger, “I trust you. I have to.”

His sigh was colored by a smile which she could not see but could hear, and he put his arms behind his head. “Then get comfortable. We have a long time to wait.”

.-.-.-.-.

[Rania]

Wow.
I mean wow.
Every new chapter is greater than the other.
Cillian Bar of course.
<3

[kmk100]

Cillian Bar for you! Very well-written!

[hell0sunshine]

oh yay. ;D

I always love your updates CG! I don't read a lot of fanfiction but whenever I hear you updated it like.. makes my day complete lol!

[cgoddess]

hell0sunshine said:

oh yay. ;D

I always love your updates CG! I don't read a lot of fanfiction but whenever I hear you updated it like.. makes my day complete lol!

<3 aww thank you! XD comments like THAT make MY day. <333

[mandourage]

You've officialy got me hooked on GPYD now. Which means I'm so looking forward to the next chapter . Cillian bar for you.

[fadetogether]

AH. I absolutely LOVE this story. It's so good! All the chapters have been fantastic but the end of chap 14 made me tingle all over, I love it!

[cgoddess]

Hey, guys...

Sorry I've taken so long to update. It's been a crazy couple of days, and I had planned on having lots of time this past week to work on my art and fics that didn't actually happen.

If all goes well, I'll have the next chapter by the end of THIS week, barring my dad not needing me in the shop too much.

Thanks for your patience!

CG

[BrokenHalo]

I'm so in love with this fic. It ranks easily as one of my favorite RedEye fics (at least one that's still being updated on a regular basis). It's so well written and thought-out, and has the most realistic Jackson/Lisa pairings I think I've come across. You go, go ChocoboGoddess! Keep it coming!

[cgoddess]

AN: Ugh, I have been SICK all week, but it meant I had time to work on my fic a bit. This chapter totally didn't end where I planned, but I like it better this way. There's plenty of time to get to where we're going. --CG


Chapter 16: Waiting for Darkness to Fall

Disclaimer: I do not own Red Eye.

.-.-.-.-.

The sounds above them were constant: floors creaking under the weight of booted feet and leather shoes, muffled voices, laughter, questions, and at one point a crash as something fell, and more laughter. It seemed that the main door of the shop had a bell, which dinged every time someone went in or out. No one else came downstairs.

The other door jiggled once, as though someone in the alley was trying to get in, but then all was still. Jackson murmured to Lisa that he was certain they had only been pursued earlier to cover all options, not that their hunters actually believed he and she had escaped into the basement. Frank’s driving was legendary in underworld circles, and it was most likely that they bought his feint and still chased him even now. Lisa hoped he was right.

While they waited, Jackson opened his laptop and, hunching over the screen in case they were disturbed, made notes about his meeting with his contact, the man Lisa had recognized. She leaned over, curious, and he glanced up at her. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to learn what’s going on.”

He gave her a weary look. “Leese...”

“Don’t tell me, you’ll let me know when I need to know, right?” She sat back against a box, irritated.

“Just give me time to collect my thoughts and I’ll share.” At her skeptical brow, his mouth quirked up. “I promise.”

She sighed but returned the smile. “I’m holding you to it.”

At five thirty, traffic upstairs slowed, and at six, a single pair of footsteps strode across to the front door, which they heard open and close with a merry jingle, and then all was silent. Lisa watched Jackson, who was still typing away, then tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey.”

He started, then blinked and checked the time. “Sorry.” He listened, watched the ceiling. “Everyone’s gone?”

“Seems that way.” She stretched and readjusted her legs in a different position under her. “So now what?”

“We wait a while longer, ‘til after dark. I don’t feel like surprising the janitor or something, and there’ll be too much traffic on the street for us to leave quietly. Once we’re out of here, I’ll call a cab to pick us up a couple blocks away and have them take us the rest of the way to your place.”

Lisa nodded, yawning. “Okay, then.” She pointed at the laptop. “So explain?”

He leaned back and closed his eyes, thinking. “So we have a couple of options. Some involve you, some don’t. I’d rather not involve you.”

“How chivalrous,” she said dryly.

“Chivalry has nothing to do with it,” came his equally dry retort, “You’re just not a killer, nor are you professional in the sense that I am. I don’t want you in the way when the bullets start to fly.”

“Especially if you’re as bad a shot as you claim to be,” she sent back.

He looked surprised, eyes focusing on nothing as he was wont to do when he was remembering something, then they met hers again with a smile. “Ahh, that’s right. I told you that back when we met.” He grinned almost boyishly. “I’ve gotten a little better since then. You know, work on your weaknesses and all that.”

“I wondered why you seemed so confident with your gun the other day.” Had it really only been a few days ago? This adventure she was on seemed to have lasted months. She let her head rest against the box at her back. “So anyway…”

“So anyway. My contact gave me a very good date and a few not-so-good ones. My best bet is to hit Connolly at Senator Hayne’s Thanksgiving Ball. Both candidates will be there, and Connolly is at the top of the guest list.”

She felt a little faint. “That’s a terrible choice! There will be too many people around!” She imagined the panic, the terror that would spread like wildfire through hundreds of people who were completely unprepared for anything but an elegant holiday party. “Not to mention the security that will be there—two Presidential candidates in one room? It’ll be near impossible.”

“Security doesn’t concern me,” he scoffed. “Nor does the thought of ‘too many people’. If nothing else, it’ll help me. More people around means more cover, and more opportunity to get lost in the crowd.”

“So, what, you walk in wearing a tuxedo, shoot Connolly, and leave like you’re James Bond?”

“Pretty much.” His voice was confident, but he rubbed at his eyes as though his head hurt. “Of course, it could all go to sh*t if I don’t get everything lined up just right. It’s been a long time since I had to do a hit myself.”

For some reason, Lisa was worried, though she wasn’t sure what about. She shook her head. “I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it, not since moment one when you told me you had to kill Michael Connolly, not since people tried to blow us up, not since Mr. White, and certainly not since you talked to your contact. Something is way off here.”

“So tell me,” he said, snapping the laptop shut, “Tell me what bothers you. Aside from your unfortunate possession of moral inflexibility.”

“I’ll tell you what bothers me,” she bristled. “It bothers me that all of this hinges on the idea that if you kill one man, it will save your life—”

“Don’t forget it saves your family’s lives,” he interjected, but she ignored him.

“—but how do we even know this is the case? You lost your job after being hospitalized, and you were on your own for three years before this came up. Mr. White kidnapped us so he could tell you to your face that he couldn’t help you on this one, and that killing Connolly wouldn’t make things okay between you two. So he’s not the one behind the information, and though I don’t like him, I do trust him after meeting him, on some level.”

“Things work differently in my world, Leese,” he said darkly. “Just because Mr. White said that doesn’t mean my info is incorrect.”

“But how do you know if it is? Who told you, Jackson? How did you find out that Connolly was being targeted by the FBI? How did you come to the conclusion that killing him before they get their hands on whatever he knows about your organization will keep us alive? How do you know you’re not just being set up?”

“I don’t!” He nearly shouted, froze for a moment, listening, then repeated more softly, “I don’t. I don’t know, and it is killing me, because I work in information, in cause and effect and plan A, plan B, all the way through plan Z. But I have only this little bit to go on, and one of the things that made me one of the best managers out there was my ability to take minimal resources and create a viable plan out of them. My instincts told me that this is the best solution, and so I’m going with it.”

“Then why am I here?”

“What?” He had been pacing in the narrow aisle between the boxes, but her question made him stop and half-turn to face her.

Lisa swallowed. “Why did you seek me out? I’ve told you that this goes against all of my instincts and you’re not listening to me, so it wasn’t my counsel you wanted. Why am I here?”

He stared at her, and yet again she watched the parade of emotions that shoved his mask aside as he thought of his answer. In the end, however, he made a dismissive noise and turned away once more.

She was on her feet before he could take another step. “Don’t. You. Dare.” She grabbed his arm, whirled him so he had to look at her. “You can stop treating me like a f*cking passenger right now.”

Part of her almost wished she hadn’t moved; the same expression that had been on his face last night at the Inn was there now. He saw her notice, and with a step he’d backed her against the wall of boxes. Lisa couldn’t push against them too much for fear of toppling them, and she knew he knew it.

“What was that, Leese?” He asked softly, tilting his head to the side as if asking an honest question. “You sound like you didn’t understand something. I thought it was pretty clear why I brought you along.” Nothing held her there but the closeness of his body; his arms hung at his sides, but still she couldn’t move.

Damn her body for reacting, damn the traitorous way her heart beat faster and made her breath come harder. She was so tired of behaving like this around him, especially when he knew how much of a diversion it was for her. She found her original thought in her mind, closed a mental fist around it and dragged it back, closing her eyes to keep from looking into his.

“Never mind,” she said, measuring her words, breath catching when she felt him lean in, “It’s okay. I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Jackson.” She felt him pull back, and finally she opened her eyes, let the threat behind her words shine through them. “Do that again, even joking with me, and I will break your nose.”

That had obviously not been the response he had expected, for his delicate brows rose and his mouth opened and closed a few times. The expression turned from surprise to interested speculation. Funny how she knew that he was thinking on his feet, as he had when they first met. “You know what, I believe you would.”

“Good.” With a slight shove, she put distance between them again. “I’d hate to ruin your pretty face.”

“Aha, so you do think I’m hot.”

Lisa snorted. “Only until you open your mouth.”

“I’m hurt.” His tone said otherwise, and the glow from the laptop highlighted his smirk when he opened it again. “Now, let’s see…”

Within a few minutes, Jackson was absorbed once more into his plans and plots. He seemed to have forgotten that Lisa was even there. She sighed and sat back against the box again, beside him, only half watching what was happening on the screen. She lazily noticed that he’d set it up so he had an Internet window open on one half, then the other half was taken up by a text document and some kind of gauge that fluctuated. Whenever it rose past a certain point, it turned orange and then red; whenever it turned red, Jackson would pause and watch it, then relax when it went back down.

“What is that?” she asked, scooting forward.

He seemed surprised she was still there, but recovered and turned back to the screen. “It tells me what monitoring devices are active in the area. It changes because newer cars passing by can affect the readings.”

“Only newer cars?”

His eyes looked almost colorless in the thin light. “They only recently started adding a monitoring chip to cars manufactured in the USA. Imported cars will start getting them in the next year or so. All those handy GPS trackers and OnStar systems and ‘smart cars’ that tell your dealer when they need oil changes.” At her expression, he gave her a mirthless smile. “You didn’t think the government would pass up a chance at keeping tabs on people, did you?”

“You know what, Jackson?” she said, feeling sick, “Your world is a creepy place.”

“It’s just the real world, Leese.” He sighed and sat back as well, shoulder to shoulder with her. “You can’t wander around out there forever, just thinking everything is beautiful and happy. No one is nice all the time, no one is completely selfless.”

“Not everyone is evil,” she countered, and he held up a cautionary hand.

“I didn’t say everyone is evil. I said that no one is completely perfect. I have no illusions about anything; I understand that there are a lot of people out there who want to make the world a better place or end hunger or something. I also know that there are even more people who don’t give a sh*t what anyone else thinks. Most people want to get ahead, no matter what. They step on the ones around them because they don’t see past the boundaries of their own families. A lot don’t see past their own hides.”

“So what then? What’s your ray of hope? Why bother getting out of bed if you’re only going to get stepped on?”

His head swiveled to grin at her, his chin in the air and his hair mussed by the wall. “I never said I was the one getting stepped on. That would be my little ray of hope, as you so quaintly put it.”

“Ugh. You know what, I don’t want to have this conversation anymore.” She looked away, troubled, only to snap back around when she felt his hand on hers. The angry warning that sprang to her lips died before she could voice it; he was completely serious.

The shifting glow of the computer hit the planes of his face and made deeper shadows where they already tended to fall. “Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said, a bit awkwardly. His brows drew together into a fine, wide v, as though he hadn’t expected to say quite those words. “I mean—”

“It’s okay.” Lisa shook her head, pulled her hand out from under his, instantly felt the loss of warmth when she did. “I’m not from your world, Jackson. I can’t ever understand how you got to be the way you are. I won’t even try to imagine what you see on a daily basis. And I don’t want to know. The glimpses I’ve gotten so far don’t really make me eager to see more.” She clasped her hands together under her knees.

He said nothing more, but she felt his eyes on her still. At last she looked back at him.

“I mean it,” he said as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I brought you along, got you involved in this. I’ll make sure you make it out unscathed—well,” he amended with another of his dry smiles, “as unscathed as I can manage.”

She shouldn’t have felt comforted by that, but she was. “I’m holding you to that, you know.”

Jackson laughed. “I’ll never lie to you.”

The funny thing was, Lisa believed him.

.-.-.-.-.

[BrokenHalo]

YEAY YEAY YEAY update! You have no idea how happy this made me! Keep up the awesome work! *cheer*

[andrea]

this is one of the best stories I have ever read. I love the suspense, the action, and the tension between Jackson and Lisa. this story is just spectacular!!