Battlefield (13/15)
Previous parts: Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve
She hadn’t much appreciated being bundled into a white van and driven off to an unknown location. However, even Lisbon had to admit that it was a blessed relief that they hadn’t merely chosen to gun her down on the spot. Of course, she had made it clear that she was surrendering to them, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have attacked. Now, she had been transported to the Visualize Headquarters, with barely a word spoken to her. For the past couple of days, she’d had absolutely no control over her life or where and when she could go to certain places. She was getting a little sick of it, but of course, she felt like she had no choice.
Though, in reality, she knew that she did have a choice, of sorts. It was either this path which she was taking or she would end up in jail and have to attempt to clear her name with little to no resources at her fingertips. Neither option had been that appealing at the time, and now that she had chosen this specific fork that remained the case. Still, Lisbon tried desperately to remind herself that this was the lesser of two evils. Hopefully, her vigilante behavior would be rewarded and she would bring down Red John. However, she still felt like she was lost at sea, with no idea where to go next. Undercover operations were usually carried out with a massive amount of planning and consideration beforehand. This time around, she had been thrust into the situation and the only backup she had was an innocuous cellphone and prayers that Jane and Cho would reach her in time.
In time. For what, exactly? She didn’t know that either. Lisbon knew that she was heading into dangerous waters already and that at any given moment something could happen to her. The more she tried not to think about the possibilities, the more she inevitably did. She was unarmed and only had her wits to keep her alive, that much was obvious. The longer this went on, the more physically ill she felt and the angrier she was too. Though many of the people she had arrested would argue otherwise, she hadn’t done anything to deserve this treatment. She didn’t deserve to be framed as a mole for a serial killer when she had spent her whole life working for justice.
Worse, she didn’t know what Jane was doing at this moment in time either. She had no idea what strings he’d pulled, or even if he had truly believed her pleas of innocence. He was a notoriously good liar and even after years of working with him, he still had the capabilities of pulling the wool over her eyes whenever he needed to. It was entirely possible that he had encouraged her to go down this route in order to see if she was guilty or innocent. And if she did happen to be innocent, then hope that she would flush out the person who was actually responsible.
She shook her head. She couldn’t doubt Jane, not now. She needed to put all of her faith in him in this situation. If she started doubting him now, then everything would inevitably come crashing down around her ears.
But, had he always known that Visualize and Red John were virtually one and the same? How had Danny, of all people, managed to infiltrate it? Lisbon wished she’d been able to spend more time with Jane’s brother-in-law. Maybe then, she would have felt more prepared for this ill-fated operation.
Eventually, they pulled to a halt and she was ushered out of the van and into the back doors of the Visualize Headquarters. Wordlessly, they guided her through the building until she landed up in a distinctly familiar room. This was Brett Stiles’ personal office, a place which she had ventured in before during cases. The men who had taken her from the streets of Sacramento and to this place instructed her to sit and she obliged. Not because she believed they deserved her respect, but because she didn’t want to cause trouble. Or at least, not yet, anyway. The moment she was in place, they vacated the room. However, before she even had the chance to catch her breath and truly familiarize herself with her surroundings, the door swung open again. Lisbon craned her neck over to see who had entered.
She wasn’t surprised in the slightest when she saw Brett Stiles stride towards her with a broad smile on his face.
"Ah, Teresa. It's good to see you," he said by introduction, almost acting as if he hadn’t expected her presence.
Lisbon pursed her lips, but didn't answer Stiles. As far as she was concerned, it wasn't a particularly good time to be meeting him. She remained seated as he started to circle, like vultures with their prey. With his every move, he was inspecting her, waiting for her to make her next move. When she remained stubbornly silent, he eventually sat opposite her and leaned across the desk. His crystal clear blue eyes practically sparkled with delight. He was thrilled to have her here; that much was obvious. Naturally, that meant she couldn’t help but pose a very specific question to herself: did this mean he was the man responsible for her current dilemma? She could tell that he had been expecting her for quite some time by his very demeanor and she hated it with every fiber of her being. He was practically bouncing around the room with delight and he probably had big plans for her. That only served to fuel the man’s excitement.
Meanwhile, she felt drawn thin and utterly shattered. She craved her bed at home, she craved normalcy. Then, there was the whole job issue. If she couldn't get solid proof about Visualize and Red John, then she could kiss her freedom goodbye. She blinked; she wasn't going to show these weaknesses to Stiles. She already knew he was a terribly dangerous man. He was at least as quick witted as Jane and she wouldn't have been surprised if he had the same abilities too. There was a reason that the two of them had been playing games with one another for years. And now, she had the shrinking suspicion that it was about to come to a head. The only thing was they were both using her as a pawn piece, sacrificing her for what they perceived as the greater good.
"You know, it's rude not to reply to somebody," Stiles said lightly when he realized she wasn’t going to answer.
She shrugged and it was then that she chose to break her silence. "You didn't ask me a question."
"No," Stiles admitted and then he smiled broadly at her. "But I know you have several for me."
"Just one, actually," Lisbon answered lightly.
"Oh?" he replied, clearly surprised. "Do tell, Ms. Lisbon. I'm very intrigued to know what's on your mind."
"Why?" she stated.
Stiles laughed again. Despite the brevity, Lisbon knew that it was actually a surprisingly big question. A few short sentences had suddenly given her a lot more clarity into what she was dealing with. Barely a few minutes ago, she was questioning if he was responsible, and now, she only wanted to know why. Why have you framed me as a serial killer's associate? Why now? Why have you hidden Red John for years? And if you, yourself, are Red John, why have you done everything you have? Lisbon actually couldn't quite comprehend the last statement. Through Visualize, Stiles had power and respect. Why would he risk it all by being a serial killer? Didn't he already have everything and anyone that he needed at his beck and call?
But then, sociopaths didn’t have to have a reason to do anything. While he had power within the cult, it probably wasn’t enough. Having the utmost control of life or death of specific individuals was probably the last thrill left for somebody in Stiles’ position. Of course it was going to be something he explored, it just made sense. The more Lisbon thought about it, the more the pieces seemed to fall into position. Vaguely, she wondered if Jane had come to the same conclusions as she had - and if he had, how long had he known for? When was he planning to tell her? Or had he just decided to let her discover all of this in her own time? Maybe, it was simply a case of him realizing that he had done everything within his power to bring down Brett Stiles and it still wasn’t enough. Perhaps, this was his way of letting her in, letting her have a slice of the glory. Teresa Lisbon, getting to clear her name and close the career-making case of a lifetime in one go.
Of course, that was presuming she was right. That she could find the evidence she needed within these four walls. And then there was the whole get-out-of-here-alive thing. Lisbon had known for years that Stiles was a character not to be messed with. He had always appeared to teeter on the edge of the law and darker deeds. And then, there was a reason why they had left him to his own devices.
Until now, of course.
"Very good," he replied and continued smiling. It unnerved her just how cheerful he was. "Very clever. You know, I almost think I underestimated you. You'll have to forgive me, but with a distraction like Patrick Jane..."
She stood up at once and slammed her hands on the mahogany desk as she did so. Brett Stiles was startled by her sudden burst of energy, but Lisbon didn't care. Jane was a sore spot when it came to her, and she was incredibly protective of him and for good reason. Later on, she would realize that this behavior was exactly what Stiles had expected of her, but for now, she couldn't help but show her emotions. It didn't help that she was tired, on edge and had much less patience than usual either. Eventually, Stiles leaned back in his chair, but he maintained eye contact with her. He wasn't perturbed in the slightest by her feeble attempt to display power. Instead, he laced his fingers together and nodded slightly.
"Relax, my dear. Take to your seat again. I wouldn't hurt a hair on Mr. Jane's head. He... amuses me too much."
There was a slight pause; one which Lisbon could easily imagine was filled with a predatory 'for now'. She got the distinct suspicion that Stiles was suggesting that the moment he grew bored with Jane and his antics, then the situation would be different. Thus far, the conversation had offered very few direct answers, but had opened passageways in her mind which she hadn't realized existed until now. Dearly, she wished she could know Jane's insight into the situation. Though she was a skilled cop, and could read deception in people, she was trying to outdo a master here. She had always felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with Brett Stiles and that was why he made a good cult leader. Everybody lived in fear of him.
But, to add insult to injury, Stiles was yet to answer any of her questions - direct or assumed. It was probably partially her fault; if she had asked a closed question, she would probably have had an answer by now. Instead, she was more interested in what Stiles perceived to be her issues with him and Visualize. That had been the exact reason why she had merely asked him 'why?'
"Now, Teresa. I know you're a wanted criminal these days," he said with a smirk and she felt the distinct desire to smack it off his face.
"I was framed," she answered back bluntly.
"I know, and who would want to do such a thing to you?"
She opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it again. But she knew it was too late; she had already shown her hand. Quietly, she cursed at herself but tried to ensure that her face remained as blank as feasibly possible. But she had been told too many times that she looked too honest and that people could see through any lie she cared to conjure up. It was probably inevitable that Brett Stiles could already read everything she was thinking. She didn't need to answer his question with the fateful name 'Red John'; he already knew. Still, she refused to give him the pleasure of hearing her say it. Partially because she was in a stubborn mood, but mostly because she knew she needed to protect herself in order to survive in the dragon's lair.
“I can offer you safety, security. Change your name; give you a new purpose for life, one which truly uses your full capabilities.”
“My job suits me perfectly.”
“What, following Patrick Jane around like a little lapdog? I know you were a better cop before he came around. And I know he always steals your glory.”
“It’s not about glory; it’s about justice.”
“Just what I’d expect from you,” Stiles replied and nodded gently. “Even when you’ve been ostracized from the community you love, you still fight fearlessly for it.”
“Because you put me in this situation,” she stressed.
“You’re tired, Teresa. You’re sick of running, sick of fighting. I’ll let you sleep on this decision. You need to relax and think this proposition through properly. Or…”
“Or?” Lisbon echoed.
“You need to prove that I’m guilty. The ball is in your court, Ms. Lisbon. Good luck.”
To Part Fourteen
She hadn’t much appreciated being bundled into a white van and driven off to an unknown location. However, even Lisbon had to admit that it was a blessed relief that they hadn’t merely chosen to gun her down on the spot. Of course, she had made it clear that she was surrendering to them, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have attacked. Now, she had been transported to the Visualize Headquarters, with barely a word spoken to her. For the past couple of days, she’d had absolutely no control over her life or where and when she could go to certain places. She was getting a little sick of it, but of course, she felt like she had no choice.
Though, in reality, she knew that she did have a choice, of sorts. It was either this path which she was taking or she would end up in jail and have to attempt to clear her name with little to no resources at her fingertips. Neither option had been that appealing at the time, and now that she had chosen this specific fork that remained the case. Still, Lisbon tried desperately to remind herself that this was the lesser of two evils. Hopefully, her vigilante behavior would be rewarded and she would bring down Red John. However, she still felt like she was lost at sea, with no idea where to go next. Undercover operations were usually carried out with a massive amount of planning and consideration beforehand. This time around, she had been thrust into the situation and the only backup she had was an innocuous cellphone and prayers that Jane and Cho would reach her in time.
In time. For what, exactly? She didn’t know that either. Lisbon knew that she was heading into dangerous waters already and that at any given moment something could happen to her. The more she tried not to think about the possibilities, the more she inevitably did. She was unarmed and only had her wits to keep her alive, that much was obvious. The longer this went on, the more physically ill she felt and the angrier she was too. Though many of the people she had arrested would argue otherwise, she hadn’t done anything to deserve this treatment. She didn’t deserve to be framed as a mole for a serial killer when she had spent her whole life working for justice.
Worse, she didn’t know what Jane was doing at this moment in time either. She had no idea what strings he’d pulled, or even if he had truly believed her pleas of innocence. He was a notoriously good liar and even after years of working with him, he still had the capabilities of pulling the wool over her eyes whenever he needed to. It was entirely possible that he had encouraged her to go down this route in order to see if she was guilty or innocent. And if she did happen to be innocent, then hope that she would flush out the person who was actually responsible.
She shook her head. She couldn’t doubt Jane, not now. She needed to put all of her faith in him in this situation. If she started doubting him now, then everything would inevitably come crashing down around her ears.
But, had he always known that Visualize and Red John were virtually one and the same? How had Danny, of all people, managed to infiltrate it? Lisbon wished she’d been able to spend more time with Jane’s brother-in-law. Maybe then, she would have felt more prepared for this ill-fated operation.
Eventually, they pulled to a halt and she was ushered out of the van and into the back doors of the Visualize Headquarters. Wordlessly, they guided her through the building until she landed up in a distinctly familiar room. This was Brett Stiles’ personal office, a place which she had ventured in before during cases. The men who had taken her from the streets of Sacramento and to this place instructed her to sit and she obliged. Not because she believed they deserved her respect, but because she didn’t want to cause trouble. Or at least, not yet, anyway. The moment she was in place, they vacated the room. However, before she even had the chance to catch her breath and truly familiarize herself with her surroundings, the door swung open again. Lisbon craned her neck over to see who had entered.
She wasn’t surprised in the slightest when she saw Brett Stiles stride towards her with a broad smile on his face.
"Ah, Teresa. It's good to see you," he said by introduction, almost acting as if he hadn’t expected her presence.
Lisbon pursed her lips, but didn't answer Stiles. As far as she was concerned, it wasn't a particularly good time to be meeting him. She remained seated as he started to circle, like vultures with their prey. With his every move, he was inspecting her, waiting for her to make her next move. When she remained stubbornly silent, he eventually sat opposite her and leaned across the desk. His crystal clear blue eyes practically sparkled with delight. He was thrilled to have her here; that much was obvious. Naturally, that meant she couldn’t help but pose a very specific question to herself: did this mean he was the man responsible for her current dilemma? She could tell that he had been expecting her for quite some time by his very demeanor and she hated it with every fiber of her being. He was practically bouncing around the room with delight and he probably had big plans for her. That only served to fuel the man’s excitement.
Meanwhile, she felt drawn thin and utterly shattered. She craved her bed at home, she craved normalcy. Then, there was the whole job issue. If she couldn't get solid proof about Visualize and Red John, then she could kiss her freedom goodbye. She blinked; she wasn't going to show these weaknesses to Stiles. She already knew he was a terribly dangerous man. He was at least as quick witted as Jane and she wouldn't have been surprised if he had the same abilities too. There was a reason that the two of them had been playing games with one another for years. And now, she had the shrinking suspicion that it was about to come to a head. The only thing was they were both using her as a pawn piece, sacrificing her for what they perceived as the greater good.
"You know, it's rude not to reply to somebody," Stiles said lightly when he realized she wasn’t going to answer.
She shrugged and it was then that she chose to break her silence. "You didn't ask me a question."
"No," Stiles admitted and then he smiled broadly at her. "But I know you have several for me."
"Just one, actually," Lisbon answered lightly.
"Oh?" he replied, clearly surprised. "Do tell, Ms. Lisbon. I'm very intrigued to know what's on your mind."
"Why?" she stated.
Stiles laughed again. Despite the brevity, Lisbon knew that it was actually a surprisingly big question. A few short sentences had suddenly given her a lot more clarity into what she was dealing with. Barely a few minutes ago, she was questioning if he was responsible, and now, she only wanted to know why. Why have you framed me as a serial killer's associate? Why now? Why have you hidden Red John for years? And if you, yourself, are Red John, why have you done everything you have? Lisbon actually couldn't quite comprehend the last statement. Through Visualize, Stiles had power and respect. Why would he risk it all by being a serial killer? Didn't he already have everything and anyone that he needed at his beck and call?
But then, sociopaths didn’t have to have a reason to do anything. While he had power within the cult, it probably wasn’t enough. Having the utmost control of life or death of specific individuals was probably the last thrill left for somebody in Stiles’ position. Of course it was going to be something he explored, it just made sense. The more Lisbon thought about it, the more the pieces seemed to fall into position. Vaguely, she wondered if Jane had come to the same conclusions as she had - and if he had, how long had he known for? When was he planning to tell her? Or had he just decided to let her discover all of this in her own time? Maybe, it was simply a case of him realizing that he had done everything within his power to bring down Brett Stiles and it still wasn’t enough. Perhaps, this was his way of letting her in, letting her have a slice of the glory. Teresa Lisbon, getting to clear her name and close the career-making case of a lifetime in one go.
Of course, that was presuming she was right. That she could find the evidence she needed within these four walls. And then there was the whole get-out-of-here-alive thing. Lisbon had known for years that Stiles was a character not to be messed with. He had always appeared to teeter on the edge of the law and darker deeds. And then, there was a reason why they had left him to his own devices.
Until now, of course.
"Very good," he replied and continued smiling. It unnerved her just how cheerful he was. "Very clever. You know, I almost think I underestimated you. You'll have to forgive me, but with a distraction like Patrick Jane..."
She stood up at once and slammed her hands on the mahogany desk as she did so. Brett Stiles was startled by her sudden burst of energy, but Lisbon didn't care. Jane was a sore spot when it came to her, and she was incredibly protective of him and for good reason. Later on, she would realize that this behavior was exactly what Stiles had expected of her, but for now, she couldn't help but show her emotions. It didn't help that she was tired, on edge and had much less patience than usual either. Eventually, Stiles leaned back in his chair, but he maintained eye contact with her. He wasn't perturbed in the slightest by her feeble attempt to display power. Instead, he laced his fingers together and nodded slightly.
"Relax, my dear. Take to your seat again. I wouldn't hurt a hair on Mr. Jane's head. He... amuses me too much."
There was a slight pause; one which Lisbon could easily imagine was filled with a predatory 'for now'. She got the distinct suspicion that Stiles was suggesting that the moment he grew bored with Jane and his antics, then the situation would be different. Thus far, the conversation had offered very few direct answers, but had opened passageways in her mind which she hadn't realized existed until now. Dearly, she wished she could know Jane's insight into the situation. Though she was a skilled cop, and could read deception in people, she was trying to outdo a master here. She had always felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with Brett Stiles and that was why he made a good cult leader. Everybody lived in fear of him.
But, to add insult to injury, Stiles was yet to answer any of her questions - direct or assumed. It was probably partially her fault; if she had asked a closed question, she would probably have had an answer by now. Instead, she was more interested in what Stiles perceived to be her issues with him and Visualize. That had been the exact reason why she had merely asked him 'why?'
"Now, Teresa. I know you're a wanted criminal these days," he said with a smirk and she felt the distinct desire to smack it off his face.
"I was framed," she answered back bluntly.
"I know, and who would want to do such a thing to you?"
She opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it again. But she knew it was too late; she had already shown her hand. Quietly, she cursed at herself but tried to ensure that her face remained as blank as feasibly possible. But she had been told too many times that she looked too honest and that people could see through any lie she cared to conjure up. It was probably inevitable that Brett Stiles could already read everything she was thinking. She didn't need to answer his question with the fateful name 'Red John'; he already knew. Still, she refused to give him the pleasure of hearing her say it. Partially because she was in a stubborn mood, but mostly because she knew she needed to protect herself in order to survive in the dragon's lair.
“I can offer you safety, security. Change your name; give you a new purpose for life, one which truly uses your full capabilities.”
“My job suits me perfectly.”
“What, following Patrick Jane around like a little lapdog? I know you were a better cop before he came around. And I know he always steals your glory.”
“It’s not about glory; it’s about justice.”
“Just what I’d expect from you,” Stiles replied and nodded gently. “Even when you’ve been ostracized from the community you love, you still fight fearlessly for it.”
“Because you put me in this situation,” she stressed.
“You’re tired, Teresa. You’re sick of running, sick of fighting. I’ll let you sleep on this decision. You need to relax and think this proposition through properly. Or…”
“Or?” Lisbon echoed.
“You need to prove that I’m guilty. The ball is in your court, Ms. Lisbon. Good luck.”
To Part Fourteen