Mister Nobody

Chapter 29

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Don't you fuck with me." Ralston shook his head. "I'm not. I know who they are, and where they are." Growling, Jack stepped forwards. "I said don't fuck with me. My parents think I'm dead, why would they care?" Ralston kept his hands up. "You don't know as much as you think you do about your parents, Jack." Jack hesitated at that. "What's that supposed to mean?" Ralston motioned to him. "If you give yourself up now, I can get you out of prison and back to Castling. I can show you." Cocking back the hammer on his pistol, Jack glared. "What happened to lobotomizing me, huh?" Ralston moved his hands down slightly. "Perhaps we can rethink that. After all...you're a stable man." Jack looked at him, and slowly lowered his gun. "You know...you're right." Raising it again, he shot Ralston several times in the kneecaps, making him scream in pain and drop to the ground. "You son of a bitch!" He shouted as Jack looked at him. "An unstable man would have shot you in the head. Good thing I'm stable." He muttered as he started walking towards the plane. Ralston shouted across the hangar. "You can't run, Jack! My people are everywhere! They will find you, and hunt you down like a goddamned animal! You hear me!" Jack didn't even turn around as he opened the door of the plane, getting inside and staring the engine. Pulling out of the hangar, he began to taxi to the runway. Seeing several police cars driving onto the runway towards him, Jack gunned the engine and lifted off, flying into the bright blue Washington skyline, and away from everything.

The small hangar was now invaded with several cars and people, including Holloway, who rushed over to Ralston, lying on the ground. He looked into his eyes. "I know what you did, you son of a bitch. Who the hell are you, really?" Ralston groaned in pain. "I don't know what you're talking about..." Holloway punched him in the face, and some of the agents pushed him back. "Get him in an ambulance, now." One of Ralston's men carried him out of the hangar on a stretcher. "It was just us, sir. No one's going to believe us." Marcusson said. Sighing, Holloway reached into his pocket and felt for something he'd kept since New York. Finding it, he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter that he'd gotten from Ralston. Marcusson looked at him. "Thought you were trying to quit, sir." Blowing out smoke, Holloway sighed. "I think I'm gonna be needing it a lot more in the future, Marcusson." The crime scene that was set up was extensive, and every single inch of the place was examined, looking for any incriminating evidence. What nobody noticed was one of the CSI agents looking over the body of the Secretary and placing a small electronic device against his palm. After a moment, he put it away and continued dusting. The unconscious Alison Blair was cuffed and placed in the back of a SWAT van to be brought in for questioning. The last reports from air traffic control had seen Jack DeLancie's plane heading south out to the Atlantic. Its current trajectory is as of yet unknown, but suspected to be heading towards Cuba.

A month or so later, someone who looked slightly like Jack DeLancie was sitting in a small, dingy motel room in Cuba. Looking into the mirror, he saw a grisled, stoic, and experienced man staring back at him, a far cry from the one he'd seen in New York. Washing some cold water across his face, he walked out of the bathroom and stared at the small laptop that he'd bought. Opening it, he sighed as he turned on the webcam and hit the record button. "To whom this video may concern...I know who you are. But more importantly I know who I am. I don't care if you're everywhere, or if you can see me right now. You tried to control me once, and now I'm taking my life back. But before I do, I wanted you all to know something. I'm not doing this just for myself. I'm doing this for everyone you've got under your grip, everyone you've controlled. I'm going to find out everything about you, expose you, then destroy you. And tell anyone who come to try and kill me...good luck." Turning off the camera, he placed the video file into an email and sent it to the address he'd located, hoping that it was the right one. If not, they would find it eventually. He reached into his black duffel bag and took out the last thing that Alison had given him. A syringe full of Ozone. It had only been small doses before, but he hoped that this would work. He was ready to remember everything. Finding the vein in his arm, he pierced the skin, and injected it into his body.

Jack DeLancie will return...