Hi! I know. Crazy long time. I've missed beautiful you. But just the other day I was looking through my documents and found this story and decided to finish it. So please forgive me for any plot holes or whatever- I tried my best, but honestly it has been a ridiculously long time. I hope people will still read!

"Good. Let's get going before they know we're here." He opened the door but stopped suddenly and somewhat reluctantly turned back towards Adam. "Hey," he said. Jackson swallowed. He had never been very good with this. A moment of silence fell between the two before Jackson finally opened his mouth again. "Thanks." Without waiting for a response, Jackson opened his door and quietly got out of the car, took a deep breath, and ran forward.

Getting in wasn't the problem. They had seen the blueprints that were used to build all of the surrounding warehouses; they were each set up the same. He ran around the side of the warehouse, hoping not to run into any stray workers; although they had worked out a pretty decent plan, they were still relying mainly on luck to get them through alive.

Finally he came across an entrance out of direct view of the main driveway. None of the doorways had standby guards- the security was shoddy at best, with just a security camera (which Adam had disconnected) and a card swipe to enter. He quickly screwed a silencer onto the barrel of his gun and tucked it away in the waistline of his pants before testing the strength of the swipe machine. Deciding it wasn't too strong to give him problems, he delivered to it a solid hit with the edge of his elbow. The thing shook, but held firm. Several attacks later, the plastic covering gave in and he was able to slide it slowly away from the wall, revealing a multitude of red, green, and blue wires.

After years of both government and terrorist training, it doesn't take long to identify the wires needed in any machine in order to start it, as well as disable it. The same concept goes for any product, and this card swipe was no different. Within a matter or seconds Jackson was able to pinpoint which wires were needed in order to hear the telling 'beep beep' of the doorway, signaling he had successfully gained entrance into the building. He quietly opened the door and slid in, pulling out his gun as he did so.

Almost immediately after entering he was spotted. A man dressed all in black was standing at the end of the hallway Jackson had just walked into. He yelled something incoherent before running towards him, reaching for his gun. Jackson had the advantage, seeing as his gun was already in his hand, and began running towards the assailant, aiming while he did so. He shot the man cleanly in the forehead and, just as he was trained to do, caught the body just before it hit the ground, gently lying him down as to avoid too much noise.

He walked over to the corner and peeked around the edge. The two hallways in sight seemed to be empty, so Jackson cautiously crept forward. He repeated this action for a few more hallways before he found what he was looking for- a small supply closet. He slipped in and immediately let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It took everything he had not to just go find Lisa himself right now. The thought that she was bleeding, crying, dying somewhere in this building was killing him. Not because he didn't want her die- at least, he thought he still wanted her to. He just knew she didn't deserve to go this way.

He checked the safety on the gun then strode to the opposite end of the closet, where he knew after studying the blueprints for days that a vent was built into the wall. Crawling through the vents was a cliché and, in some people's opinions, rookie move, but he had to admit it actually worked. He'd done it once before on an assignment in France quite successfully, and although he had probably put on a few pounds since that day the time and team limitations for this mission narrowed their options considerably. So, instead of thinking about what his ex-boss would be saying to him right about now, he quickly unscrewed the grate from the wall and, using a bucket for the extra height, pulled himself into the confined area.

The trick with ventilation systems is trying to stay quiet. It's exceptionally easy to bang an elbow or knee into the metal and have the noise echo all through the building. Normally, that'd be a pretty easy feat for Jackson, but his anxiety was starting to get the better of him and he had to remind himself on several occasions to slow down.

The vents were smaller than he had remembered them being in France. He was lying almost entirely on his stomach, crawling through the maze of metal hoping he had remembered the blueprints correctly. Right, left, straight left, left…Finally he reached what he hoped to be Fedorov's office. He crawled forward till his face was close enough to the vent to see down into the room, and sure enough Fedorov was there yelling at two of his men in fluent Russian.

"I don't care what it takes, get a team together immediately and find him!"

"Sir, we don't even know if he's on the territory. The signal is unclear."

"I do not pay you to make excuses. Get out of my office."

The two men hurried out of the office and slammed the door. Fedorov spit out a few choice curse words before sitting down at his desk. Jackson got his gun ready. From here on out he was kind of playing it by ear. He couldn't just fall into the room; just because that worked for Connor and Murphy doesn't mean it could happen in real life. He needed to think. He didn't have too much time, something had to happen fast.

Then Fedorov stood up. He gathered some papers together and moved out from behind the desk, and Jackson knew what to do. He scooched forward and slid the barrel of his gun in between the slits in the vents. It didn't really fit, but there was just enough room to let the barrel entrance through for the bullet to pass. As Fedorov made his way across the room, Jackson made aim and pulled the trigger. The man immediately collapsed to the floor, yelling a gargled noise and clutching his leg tightly.

"Gotchya."

Four men escorted Lisa and Adam through the winding hallways of the warehouse. Riley kept one arm wrapped around Lisa's waist and the other grasping her elbow tightly. Adam was beside Lisa, clutching his arm close to his body. He had been shot twice and was losing an enormous amount of blood every passing second. He looked pale, but he held his head high and walked in the middle of the group. Another man kept a gun trained on his back, even though the gesture was unnecessary. Adam was in no condition to attempt an escape. Lisa supposed it was for appearances.

She knew she was going to die. Honestly, she was surprised she had lasted this long. So as the group made their way through the building, Lisa tried her best to mentally prepare herself for death. Of course she had no idea how to go about doing this. Her life wasn't flashing before her eyes, there were no sudden inspirational realizations being made. She tried to think of all of her most treasured experiences- a beach picnic with her family when she was twelve, her first kiss at fourteen, studying abroad in Europe, her twenty first birthday party- but for some reason the awful memories she had tried daily not to think about kept popping up. The death of her brother, the day her parents told her they were getting divorced, her rape, Jackson gripping her throat in the bathroom of an airplane, her multiple kidnappings, Riley straddling her chest and carving his mark into her face…'Shit,' she thought, 'my life has kind of sucked.' She almost laughed. Almost. Instead she worked on keeping the tears from falling down her face. She would rather die than cry in front of Riley. The irony was clear, but still, she promised herself she would never let Riley see her cry again. She thought of Greg, of how they could have had a chance together if not for Jackson. She thought of how her life could have been different if she had never parked in that garage, if she had just taken a different flight to Miami, if she had killed Jackson when she had the chance. So many missed opportunities, so many mistakes. She turned her head to the side to hide her glistening eyes from the man holding her tightly.

Riley noticed her movement though and tightened his grip on her waist. He leaned in close and buried his nose into her hair all the while keeping a steady pace towards the room Lisa knew would be the last one she'd ever see.

Eventually they stopped at a door. The man in the front knocked, waited, and then knocked again. When no one answered, he glanced back at Riley who nodded slightly and he opened the door. A shot fired and the man fell back, blood already beginning to pool around his still figure. Riley pulled Lisa in front of him. She didn't see him grab for it but suddenly there was a gun pushing against the soft of her temple. The two other men pulled out their own weapons and rushed inside, ready to shoot anyone in sight, and almost immediately another of them fell to the floor in a puddle of blood. It was quiet for another minute before Riley nodded his head at Adam who weakly walked across the threshold, and Riley followed keeping Lisa as a shield.

As soon as they entered, Lisa's breath caught in her throat. Fedorov was standing in the middle of the room, glaring at the incoming group, while Jackson stood behind him holding a pistol firmly against his cheek. They both looked a little worse for the wear; Fedorov's right leg was bleeding profusely and his face was pale white, and Jackson had a small gash under his eye leaking blood down his face. But the smirk that crossed his features was the most prominent thing in the room. Lisa let out a breath of relief and felt hopeful for the first time in weeks. 'He's back…'

"I'd put that gun down if I were you, Riley, unless you want your boss blown to pieces."

Riley tightened his grip on Lisa's arm but besides that you would never know he was flustered. "It's one against two Rippner, you really think the odds are in your favor here?"

Jackson laughed. "Do you honestly think I was able to sneak into your secure building and get ahold of your very well guarded boss all by myself? I thought you'd have more brains than that, kid."

That made Riley pause, but Lisa knew better, and she was pretty sure Riley did too. Even if Jackson did have others with him, he currently had two guns trained on him, albeit if hesitantly. She knew he was working alone (minus Adam, who was now leaning on the doorway struggling to keep his eyes open), but it was a mystery to her as to how he got in the building, let alone Fedorov's private office.

"Let the girl go and you get your boss back."

"I don't think I'm going to do that. I've become quite fond of your little friend here, I think I might keep her."

Jackson's jaw clenched. "Well that's too bad then, I guess we're at an impasse."

The silence that followed was so intense Lisa's ears started to ring. Riley and the man standing next to him never once took their eyes off of Jackson. At one point Fedorov stirred as if he were about to say something, but Jackson simply dug his gun further into the man's cheek, shushing him quietly. Lisa's heart was pounding. She could barely gather her thoughts, and the smell of blood in the room didn't help her any. After a minute or so, she felt the gun move slowly from her temple, down the side of her face, and settle under her chin, pushing her head back slightly. Riley moved his mouth next to her ear.

"It's a shame, really. What a waste. I would have loved to keep you." He cocked the gun and Lisa let out a sob.

"Shoot her and everyone in this room dies." Jackson, too, cocked his gun, holding Fedorov tightly against him.

Riley laughed. He leaned forward and kissed Lisa softly on her forehead. "Bye, dollface."

And then a gun was fired.

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