Crossing Lines Flash Fiction

Crossing Lines

Eliza sat in the bright hospital hall, staring at her hands in silence. She sat in a plastic chair against the wall, feet flat on the floor, head bent, blue eyes unfocused. Her pale face was slack, void of any and all emotion.
   
Red colored her cheeks and her eyes, her round face wet with an endless stream of tears. Her blonde hair was tangled and unruly, as if she’d been ripping at it relentlessly.
   
The only sounds in the hallway were the sounds of machines breathing for a little girl in the room behind her. A girl who looked so much like Eliza; stringy blonde hair, pale skin, blue eyes that no one could see anymore.
   
In that room was the last thing on Earth Eliza had to live for. The last thing she ever loved. The last hope. But Eliza’s hope was gone.
   
And she dared not enter that room.
   
“Eliza.” Eliza didn’t move as a male voice spoke her name, soft and sad. A dark skinned taller man approached, hazel eyes filled with sorrow and pain. “Eliza, you have to say goodbye.” the man knelt down in front of Eliza, placing a hand on her knee.
   
“Who did this?” Eliza asked, her voice shaking, hands trembling with anger.
   
“Eliza, you’re the best agent in the whole Bureau, you know that. But Zarkorov is untouchable, even by you. We have to wait for the right moment. We don’t have enough evidence.” the man said gently.
   
“It was him.” Eliza snapped, pain crossing her pale face. “He put a hit out on my baby, because of what we did.”
   
“We saved over a hundred girls he had in that ring, Eliza. Penny would be proud.”
   
“But she can’t be, because her brain is dead,” Eliza snarled, venom in her voice. “What good comes from that?” tears continued to stream down her face and she buried it in her hands, trying to contain her sobs.
   
“You need to say goodbye, Eliza.” the man repeated. “For both of your sakes, you need to say goodbye.” he rose to his feet and walked away, finding one of the nurses and speaking to her indistinctly.
   
Eliza sat still for a moment, staring at the wall. She turned slowly, watching as machines breathed for her daughter. She rose from the chair, her hand on the wall, bracing her weak body as she slowly entered the room.
   
She paused as soon as her feet crossed that doorway, her heart breaking even more. She finally approached the bed her daughter laid on, taking her cold hands in her shaking ones.
   
“I can’t do this.” Eliza sobbed, sinking to her knees and placing her head on their conjoined hands. “I can’t do this without you.”
   
Silence filled the room, the only sound was Penny’s forced, artificial heartbeat. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in here,” Eliza continued, her voice breaking with every syllable. “It felt like coming in here would mean it was over. I know you wouldn’t want me to keep you on the machines. I know how much you’d hate being here, unable to move on. But you’re not here to tell me what to do,” Eliza broke off into a fit of crying. “Just tell me what to do.” she wailed.
   
Eliza sat there on the floor beside her dying daughter and cried. Time was lost, but it felt like forever. When the doctors finally came in with the last paper Eliza needed to sign, she couldn’t even stand.
   
“Eliza,” the dark skinned man returned, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You have to let go.”
   
Eliza let go of her daughter’s hands, sobbing as she did so, sliding back into her partner’s embrace. He held her weak body up and guided her to the doctor and the pastor.
   
“Sign here, Ms. Grey.” the doctor said somberly.
   
Eliza picked up the pen with shaking fingers, and signed on the dotted line, barely able to find the strength to press down hard enough for ink to show.
   
Once she was done she fell back into her partner, and he held her up, moving her back so the nurses could move in and pull the plug.
   
Eliza watched as the spikes of color on the machine went flat, and the noise filled the room, shattering what was left of Eliza’s damaged heart.
   
Eliza fell on her knees crying, wailing and screaming. “No, please no! My baby! My baby, come back. Don’t leave me! Come back!” Eliza buried her face in her hands, rocking back and forth on the cold floor. “Come back,” she cried one last time, sobbing onto the floor, her tears soaking the white tile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eliza stood outside the heating spa, her hands at her side, her face expressionless. She stood in the parking lot, in the middle of the street, not moving. It was as if she couldn’t hear the people telling her to move, or the car horn that honked at her.
   
She moved once her eyes locked onto what she was looking for- or rather, who.
   
The bell rang as she entered the spa, and she slipped one hand in her pocket. Her fingers curled around the deadly object in her coat pocket, skin coming in contact with metal cold as death itself.
   
“Viktor Zarkorov?” Eliza’s voice held no emotion, and rang throughout the store, bringing attention on her.
   
The Russian man turned, shrugging on his coat, a smirk on his wrinkled face, his bald bodyguards stepping forward.
   
“And who might you be?” Zarkorov asked.
   
“You owe me something very special to me.” Eliza said, and Zarkorov chuckled. 
   
“Is that so? I think you may be mistaken, pretty little one.”
   
“My daughter was a pretty little one too.” Eliza said, her eyes narrowing in hatred and anger. “She’s dead.”
   
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Zarkorov said, but his tone sounded less than sorry.
   
“You should be. Your men put a hit out on her without your permission. They challenged your leadership. They undermined you.” Eliza said coldly, pulling out the flash drive in her pocket.
   
“And what makes you think I have anything to do with whatever you are accusing me of?” Zarkorov asked, sounding disinterested.
   
“I hear you are a man of honor. You won’t hurt children, and when you give someone your word, you keep it.” Eliza started. “My name is Supervisory Special Agent Eliza Grey with the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. I’ll give you this-” she held up the flash drive. “All the evidence we have to send you with a one way ticket to Gitmo. In exchange for your word.”
   
Zarkorov’s interest was clearly piqued, and he straightened. “My word on what?”
   
“That you’ll punish those responsible for killing my nine year old daughter. Penny Gray.” Eliza replied. She lifted the flash drive up. “I have copies, hard copies and digital ones. I have to enter a passcode every half hour, and they’re all different, or else they will be distributed everywhere. Show me you’ve kept your word, and I’ll destroy all copies except this one. This one, I will give to you.” Eliza stuck her hand out, offering the flash drive to the Russian.
   
“Are you asking me to find out, or do you already know?” The Russian asked.
   
“I already know.” Eliza replied, her jaw tightening. “Do I have your word?” 
   
“How do I know you will keep yours?” Zarkorov shot back. Eliza handed over the flash drive without another word, and he took it slowly and warily, glancing down at it before nodding.
   
“You have my word before God that I will punish those responsible for killing your daughter. And I will update you every step of the way.” Zarkorov replied.
   
“Good.” Eliza turned away to walk out the door. She turned back to the Russian, her eyes filling with sadness. “Thank you, Zarkorov.”
   
The Russian nodded, his face somber. “I am deeply sorry for your loss, Agent Grey.”
   
Eliza left the store without another word, her head bent in shame, tears filling her eyes.
   
She had crossed a line she could never come back from.