Page 37 of No Escape

As the first light of day began to break over the horizon, Jackson Weller stood at the edge of the sprawling FBI campus in Quantico, his eyes fixed on the imposing structure that loomed in front of him. The Mesmer Building, once the proud headquarters of his Criminal Psychopathy Unit, now stood like a tombstone, a monument to the career that had been all but buried.

The cool morning air did little to quell the trepidation that roiled within Jackson like an ocean in the midst of a storm. In just a few moments, he would walk through those doors and confront the man who had brought his world crashing down around him—Director Heinlein, the man who had suspended him, mothballed his team, and launched a relentless investigation against them, all because of a deep-seated grudge that refused to die.

As he stared up at the building, Jackson couldn’t help but think that this could be the last time he ever set foot in the place that had once been a second home to him. He had walked these halls so many times before, alongside Valerie, Charlie, and Dr. Will Cooper, working tirelessly to bring justice to those who had been victimized by the most depraved minds in the country.

And now, it all hung in the balance, the future uncertain and fraught with danger.

But as the sun continued to rise, its rays casting a golden light over the world, Jackson felt something stir within him—a fire that refused to be extinguished, even in the face of overwhelming odds. If this was to be his last stand, then he would make sure it was one they would never forget.

Taking a deep breath, Jackson squared his shoulders and began to walk toward the entrance of the Mesmer Building, determination in every step. He would face down Director Heinlein and fight for his team, for their work, and for the countless lives they had touched. And whatever the outcome, he knew that he would not go down without a fight.

Jackson strode into the lobby of the Mesmer Building, the heavy doors closing behind him with a resounding thud. As he approached the security desk, he noticed the two guards on duty, their faces lighting up with genuine delight when they recognized him.

“Agent Weller!” one of them exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face. “It’s great to see you back!”

Jackson couldn’t help but smile in return. It was heartening to know that he still had support among the rank and file, even if the higher-ups had turned their backs on him. “Thanks, guys,” he replied, his tone warm and sincere. “It’s good to be back, even if it’s just for a visit.”

The other guard chimed in, his expression equally enthusiastic. “We’ve missed you around here, sir. Things haven’t been the same without you and your team.”

Jackson chuckled, trying to maintain a lighthearted demeanor despite the gravity of the situation. “Well, I might be looking to join you fellas soon enough, depending on how my meeting with Director Heinlein goes. I hear there’s an opening for a security guard?”

The guards exchanged glances before erupting into laughter, appreciating Jackson’s attempt at humor even though they all knew the stakes were high. “You’d be more than welcome to join us, sir,” the first guard replied, still chuckling. “But honestly, we’re all rooting for you to get your team back. We know the work you do is important.”

Jackson nodded, touched by their support. “I appreciate that, guys. Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting to attend.”

Jackson stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind him as he pressed the button for the top floor. He could feel the tension mounting with each passing floor, his pulse quickening in apprehension for the confrontation that lay ahead. As the elevator reached its destination, the doors opened with a quiet ding, revealing the opulent lobby of the executive offices.

Upon entering the lobby, Jackson caught the eye of the receptionist, a woman named Gladys who had been a fixture at the Bureau for as long as he could remember. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him, but she quickly composed herself and offered him a polite smile.

“Agent Weller, what a surprise,” she said, her voice warm yet professional. “What can I do for you today?”

Jackson glanced at his watch before addressing her. “Gladys, are the directors having their weekly debrief behind the brass doors?” He gestured toward the imposing set of double doors that led to the boardroom, covered in an ornate, polished orange-tinged metal.

Gladys hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes, they are. But they’ve made it very clear they’re not to be disturbed.”

Jackson frowned, but before he could respond, Gladys leaned in closer and whispered, “They’re actually discussing the future of the CPU. I’m rooting for you.”

His resolve hardened, and Jackson offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Gladys, but I have to see them.”

He could see the conflict in her eyes, but she didn’t try to stop him as he strode past her toward the brass-covered doors. Taking a deep breath, he pushed them open, stepping into the boardroom and interrupting the hushed conversation of the directors.

The room fell silent, every pair of eyes fixed on him with a mixture of shock and curiosity. Jackson stood tall, refusing to be intimidated by the powerful men and women who now stared him down. He knew this was his chance to fight for his team and the work they had dedicated their lives to, and he wasn’t about to let his team down.

A man in his fifties stood up from the table, his face contorted with indignation. It was Director Arthur Heinlein, the very man responsible for Jackson’s current predicament.

“This is outrageous, Weller!” Heinlein barked. “You have no business being here during our due process.”

Jackson smiled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Nice to see you too, Director.”

Heinlein’s face grew even redder, his anger palpable as he tried to shut down Jackson’s attempts to argue for the reinstatement of his unit. “I won’t allow this insubordination, Weller. You have no right to—”

But Jackson cut him off, his voice firm and unwavering. “No, you shut up, Heinlein.”

Heinlein’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How dare you speak to me like that! I’ll have you kicked out of the FBI for this!”

Unfazed, Jackson stared the director down, his voice steady and resolute. “Kick yourself out, Heinlein. My team and I have dedicated our lives to protecting people and stopping criminals like John Murphy. If you’re more interested in your petty grudges than in the safety of our citizens, then maybe it’s you who doesn’t belong here.”

Jackson turned his attention to the room, addressing the gathered directors and officials. “I’m not here to beg for my unit back, though I firmly believe it should be reinstated. I’m here to ask for your help. One of our own, Agent Valerie Law, is in danger.”

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