AN: I have ideas for this story, but I want to see the interest level for it before I get too attached to the idea of it. After watching the movie a couple of times this summer, I have fallen in love with the characters and the idea for this story started to form in my head. So I hope you enjoy the introduction!

Disclaimer: I, in no way, own the characters from the movie "Red Eye". The storyline and screenplay for the movie was written by Carl Ellsworth, and was directed by the amazing Wes Craven. The movie is a product of Dreamworks. I also do not claim knowledge of how court procedures are done in Florida, I only know what I have seen in my home state. Nor do I claim knowledge of how Homeland Security would really act in this case.

"Znnnng"

The blinking of the nearly pristine light over his head would have driven a weaker man to insanity by now, but Jackson Rippner was no ordinary man. He had spent many a month worth of time in stress management and torture endurance courses. Slip ups were not allowed in his line of work no matter how good an agent or manager may have been prior. Mr. Rippner was also not a suicidal man. Which is why he was seated at a table, in the interrogation room, talking to one of Homeland Security's finest.

"Mr. Ramage, I am sure you are aware of the…negative feelings my colleagues and clients will hold towards me after my last failed contract," Jackson's fingers netted into a loose pyramid as he spoke every syllable carefully, "I am willing to negotiate a deal and present to you and your department the names of everyone I have worked with in the past, both domestic and international…in exchange I would like protection,"

The balding Shamus Ramage eyed the young man with caution. He had already been made aware of what his superiors wanted of Jackson Rippner, but it was in his best interest to obtain that and the information that Rippner seemed willing to part with.

"We may not be able to give you full protection from all of your potential enemies Mr. Rippner, but if you give us this information we may be able to give you a job helping train officers in being able to see into the minds of terrorists. This can be a paid job used as an alternative to the thirty-five plus years that the judge has handed out. And as I'm sure you know, in prison, you will have a rather large target on your back,"

Jackson leaned back as far as he could in a metal chair attached to the floor. This was a not-so-surprising offer given his almost perfect record and mental capabilities. With his hands still forming a slight pyramid, both thumbs began to lightly graze the pinkish white scar over his trachea. Yes, the true test was if they would agree to his next request. He kept his steel blue eyes on the man sitting across from him as he pretended to weigh the options in his head.

"I am afraid that I only planned out the attacks that the contracts called for. I may know how to formulate them with precise male fact based logic, but as I'm sure you've read from the file you have on my early life, I have never had the opportunity to build up enough attachments to take in account the role of emotions. That is what regrettably caused me to fail last time. I can teach your men how a terrorist may enact an attack, but I am not properly enlightened on how to combat these attacks. I would very much like to work with a partner,"

Ramage felt as if the eyes attached to the man across from him could read him with little effort despite his years of training and seniority. He also felt that Rippner was intentionally being an open book to him at this moment.

"You want us to enlist Lisa Reisert, the woman who managed to save your last target?"

"Hmmm yes, and who put a hole in my throat with a pen. While I will not lie and say I have completely overcome my anger towards what she managed, I will admit that she beat me fair and square and is the only one to ever do so. I believe this more than qualifies her to be of assistance in the emotional factor since that is what helped her to overcome my threats,"

"I will see what I can do Mr. Rippner,"

The aged man gathered up his stack of notes with gnarled fingers, and began to carefully unbend his knees. Jackson watched until he had a loose grip on the handle of the door before he opened his mouth again.

"Mr. Ramage, while Lisa may not have as many enemies as I do, I hope you remember that she was the cause of a major assassination attempt failing. The organization who contacted me about this hit was one of the highest payers I have ever had. And as you have seen from the size of my estate that you and your men have raided, I do not make chump change. It would be in everyone's best interest if she was here,"

"I will keep that in mind,"

Jackson tilted his head back to look at the boring ceiling. Getting caught was not the worst thing in the world. The Government initiated assassinations and take downs all the time, and he knew the occupation of training these pawns was only going to be a front. He would be given orders to construct plans for the government and in return would be the fall guy if they failed, but if they succeeded he would be paid and kept in secrecy. Given his track record this was a pretty safe bet.

Lisa was the only tricky part of this deal. Honesty had been driven into him at a young age, so he would not lie about the begrudging respect for her he had gained after his anger had begun to melt away. He was not about to let her die at the hands of some second rate assassin after she had bested him. He had plans for her. One eye drifted down to the door as his ears made out the sound of someone undoing a latch.

"My superiors have reached a decision, Mr. Rippner,"

O.o.O.o.O

"Cynthia calm down. I'm only going to Jury Duty; no planes I swear,"

Lisa Reisert had been peacefully riding in the back of a taxi when her friend and coworker Cynthia Mays had begun the twisting trip down an anxiety attack. The disaster on the plane and at the hotel had occurred almost three years ago, but the strain was still there. Cynthia's anxiety was noticeably worse, and Lisa could not say she was any better. While the event had brought the two women closer, it had also left Lisa with an odd feeling of emptiness. She could no longer say she was happy working at the hotel without lying through her teeth, and her paranoia had expanded. No longer was it just parking lots that fazed her, but everywhere. She had even bought a dog named Noodles to guard her house.

Sliding her phone shut, Lisa saw the outline of the courthouse coming into view. The sooner she could get this over with the better. No one liked going into the courthouse so early only to have to wait anxiously for your name to be called and the judge to go through all the procedures.

After paying the cab his fare, Lisa straightened her grey skirt and suit jacket before heading up the steps to the check in location. One of the court workers manning the metal detector took her purse and checked its contents while she walked through undeterred. Lisa had only ever been here a handful of times in her life; the most recent having to do with what happened on the Red Eye flight out of Dallas. She had been subpoenaed for the court case of the State of Florida against Jackson Theodore Rippner, and had to sit there on the stand pretending as if she could not see or feel the soured look he had been giving her. She had effectively made it so he could not say anything in his defense. With the combined injuries that both her and her dad had inflicted upon him, it had taken a full two months before he was deemed fit for trial. It had been another month before the trial had even taken place, and the doctors had still limited Jackson's use of speech for the trial.

As soon as Lisa was through the door of the court room she slipped her phone out of her purse and turned it off. Despite Cynthia being her friend, Lisa had no intentions of taking a frantic phone call while in the room. Thankfully, not long after she had taken her seat the judge had arrived and everyone was ordered to stand and then sit down.

"You have all been made aware that the nature of this case is of the sexual kind. When I call potential jurors up for questioning, if there is anything that may pertain to your decision making on this case that you do not feel comfortable with sharing to the whole room then please make this known and I will question you in private. Now will the first fourteen names please be called out,"

Lisa sat quietly as she listened to every second or third person be excused by the judge for some reason or another. The problem with being called in during a criminal case was the fact that it was so easy for people to be excused, so there was a high chance that her name would be called. She could almost feel her name creeping up on the county clerk's lips.

"Everyone please move down one seat. Call another name,"

"Lisa Reisert,"

With as much grace as she could muster after sitting there for nearly an hour, Lisa moved to the jurors' box and again waited her turn. She had moved only a few seats by the time the judge's voice spoke to her.

"Lisa Reisert of Miami, correct?"

"Yes your honor, but if we could I would prefer you to question me in private,"

Lisa had been saying those words over and over again in her head while she had been waiting for her turn. There was no way that she could be on this case and remain unbiased. At the Judge's motion, Lisa stood from her seat and followed the judge to the room behind his chair. Despite reporting it five years ago, there were very few people who Lisa had confined in about the attack and assault on her, and she planned on keeping it that way.

"Now Ms. Reisert, please take a seat and we can begin the questioning where you feel the most uncomfortable,"

Fiddling with the handles of her purse, Lisa made herself focus on how soft the chair was. All that she had to do was remember that she was not anywhere near that parking lot.

"Five years ago I was the victim of a sexual assault," Lisa kept her mind forward and made her voice stay steady, "Your Honor, I do not feel like I could go into this case unbiased in anyway,"

The Judge gave her a very sympathetic look before his face turned a little smug.

"I already knew this Ms. Reisert, but there is another reason that I need to talk to you in private,"

Pulling out a picture of Jackson, the Judge slid the paper across the desk for Lisa to look at, "I assume you remember this man, Jackson Rippner? I know this case closed over a year ago, but the Department of Homeland Security has taken interest in employing Mr. Rippner,"

He let Lisa take in that little bit of information while he sorted through the folder that he had taken the black and white photo from. Her eyes had widened slightly, and had begun to stealthily slide around to glance in every direction.

"You mean Jackson is no longer in prison?"

"No he never was. They felt like it would have been too much of a risk. Now they have asked me to deliver this message and request to you, so listen closely, Ms. Reisert. Mr. Rippner seems to think that you may be a target for those that hired him for the assassination that you thwarted. Because of this, and the fact that they feel normal police protection would not be enough, they want you to work alongside Rippner in a new program they are creating for his specialties,"

Lisa looked from the picture to her hands which were squeezed together on her lap. If Jackson was cooperating with the Government then maybe she could trust him to behave, but he had tricked her at first too. What if he was only fooling them with some sweet façade and his charismatic words? One thing Lisa did learn from her encounter with Jackson, though, was the power of logic, and right now she had to decide who the bigger threat to her life was. It was completely believable that Jackson's unhappy customers could eventually come after her, but it was also likely that Jackson could want revenge for what she did to him. With Jackson, government officials would be nearby, but if she just went back to her normal life then she had no protection from an unknown attacker. She knew Jackson too. Very little, but she still knew him more than she did whoever it was who wanted Mr. Keefe dead.

"What do I have to do, your Honor?"

AN: There it was, the introduction! Here we saw a glimpse of the lives of the characters since the events of "Red Eye". I would deeply appreciate the reviews of people interested in this story, and reviews that hold ideas of the readers too.