A Vigilante in Suits.

Chapter 6:

Jack-line.

"There you are Mr. Furrow, did you come to Plow my Field".

Is what I would like to say out-loud. But I content myself by a simple greeting. A greeting usually reserved to stranger. As if I am meeting him for the first time. As if it is not a struggle to keep my hands in my pockets, my stance relaxed and my smile serene.

Of all the colors in the world, did he have to go and wear black! A black that made his eyes bluer and his dark brown wavy hair lighter. And for God's sake the surveillance pictures and videos did no justice to his body.

When we were teens, he had already been powerfully built with a six-foot three frame, and his face has always been a dangerous handsomeness of high cheekbones, window peek and maddening dimples. But now he has acquired a potent ruggedness and a dark intense sexiness.

The only consolation to this situation is his equal apparent struggle to rein his reaction toward me, shown in the flashing of his eyes, the clenching of his square jaws and tightening of his grip. He seemed to have trouble controlling his body response. It made accosting him like this worth the trouble.

Thought, deep down I am not particularly mad that he has organized all this. After all Drake has proven once again why he is the only man for me. However, I would have liked if I had more control than I already did have on this situation. But what is done is done.

Just as I finish my thought Drake steps out of the elevator. The movement make his scent drift toward me. My lungs fill up with it, and my eyes threaten to shut from the heady effect. God, after all these years his scent should have changed, and it did in some ways. It matured, gaining sharp edges and a refine like an aged wine. But underneath it still the same comforting musk.

"It's an honor to meet you, Miss Acker." He says with a smile that shows of a row of white teeth and his dimples. "It is truly a welcome with you greeting me like this." At his words, my small smile tips up a little on the edge- his ice blue eyes immediately zero-in on it and heat up, naughty boy.

All that time spent on UK soil, and he never picked up on the accent, he remained faithful to his mother Boston origins. Another thing we both had in common.

"Shall we." I say as I turn and precede him. The move was deliberate, and he does not disappoint. He slides smoothly beside me, and we walk silently side by side towards the conference room. All while pretending to not steal glances from the corner of our eyes at each other. Pretense, this short walk was full of so much pretense. The only sounds accompanying us are those of our heels clicking on the floor, and the rustle of clothing.

Just as we arrive, Ashley my pseudo-assistant comes out of the room. When she spots me, she gives me a reprimanding look, she then transfers her eyes to Drake and send him a coy flirtatious look. I acknowledge both acts by a slight cocking of my head. The move draws Drake's attention and I feel him more than see him, subtly tense.

Now that is truly an interesting woman. You see, in a business like mine usually CEO had personal assistant who helped them manage their workload, and took care of everyday tasks like emails filtering, schedule planning, and so on. However, in my case since the day she was hired, Ashley and I have had a peculiar work-related interaction.

Truth be told, a year ago my youngest sister Vicky- short for Victoire- had somehow convinced me that having someone assist me in my work would be healthy and reflect nicely on my overall image. At the time I did not give it many thoughts and left the hiring to Vicky and HR. But I had specified that I would probably not even use the expertise of such individual, and I have had since proven that there was no-probably about it.

For the past year since Ashley has worked at The Field, I had never required her help, nor did I have any specific use of her. So, in retaliation Ashley, who is now glowering at me - If you can call the weird twisting of her face that- spent her time acting as if she owned The Field. She brought useless contracts, met with mediocre IT developers, and participated in charity galas under my name. Until recently I had never cared much about her actions and had even thought of them as entertainment. She was left alone because she did not do anything to harm The Filed directly.

But still everything she did was monitored and her every move was reported to me. Her watch was also secretly modified to include an indetectable GPS tracker and a hacking program that connected with her other devices via WIFI or Bluetooth when she was close to them. Nothing has ever come up and her petty actions were dismissed. However today is a fated day that brought a surprise. You see, dear Ashley was in a pinch it seems, how lovely.

In the background if your mind is wicked enough, you can hear the echo of a devilish laugh.

Thought inside, I cannot help but mourn one of my few sources of entertainment. Oh well, she dared to flirt with Drake after all.

Drake.

Oh, my lady was mean, and I fucking missed that about her.

To think that after all these years I could witness again in person her devilish side. Ah, such bliss!

As we advance into the room my eyes cannot seem to unglue themselves from Jack, and I cannot blame them it would feel like a crime or even blasphemy if they did so. After all this was Jack my one and only- plus, she wore a white suit.

No one wore a suit quite like Jack Acker. Her strong yet delicately curved body was fitted into a snow-white pant suit. The jacket was held and pinned artfully by a bow and underneath it there seemed to be no shirt or undershirt. Just smooth flowless olive skin. Her pants were tight at the waist and loose at the bottom, the material showing off the form of her legs. She always looked like the goddess she was, but in white she was a vision.

Her jet-black hair was styled in long tumbling silky waves, that reached the small of her back. It made one itch to run his hand, or even bury his face in all that beautiful mane. Her feet were encased in metallic gold stilettoes heels and added to her height a few inches. For that regard, Jack is by no mean a petite woman, even without heels her eyes were level with at least my chin, and those killer spikes gave her an imposing height which she used in her favor. There was no jewelry on her thought, other than two gold tiny loop in her ears. But what did she need any jewels for when her eyes were the rarest gems? Those beauty were currently assessing the room occupant, all the while exchanging distant greeting with each of them. He knew why she did so because it was the reason behind this masquerade.

Today was planned as a surprise for Jack. I had found the perfect present to give her as token to our reunion. What spoke of love and devotion better than unmasking wrongdoer? Moreover, it was a tribute to their first banding against true evil.

Those who came were a start-up IT development company, they were currently falling over themselves to speak with her. Share their gratefulness for this chance all the while sending her heart with their eyes. I had to ground my teeth and lock my whole body when one of them tried to overstep in her personal zone, but one look from Jack and he stood at attention like a soldier on a battlefield.

I was here as their spoke person, the one who supposedly got them this opportunity. We were also accompanied by today's target Mr. Greg Bowman; he was the COO of Caltrop Tech, a self-proclaimed rival of The Field Industries. They had in mind that such industries like IT and science development were better left to the judgment of men, and that women had no business in getting involved in it much less be successful at it. They especially had a deep, festered grudge against Jack and her sisters, as they had proved them wrong countless times via their unrivaled success in all the domains which were once conquered by men.

"I hope today goes as planned, Drake." Those words were uttered by none other than Mr. Bowman.

"Everything has already been discussed, today is only for signing the mutual agreement." I answer him without taking my eyes of Jack.

Of course, Bowman takes notice. "Don't put much thought on that, the woman is a stuck-up bitch. Cold as ice. I doubt she'll be any good in the sack."

For the million time since meeting this man, I wish for some superpower that will help me fry him on the spot. If not for my lady I would have already buried the man alive.

A few minutes later when the niceties were done with, everyone took a seat around the table. Bowman and I on one side facing the two young kids, Jeremy, and Peter Hunt.

"May I have your attention everyone…" the weird nasally voice came from the woman who had a death wish. The one who sent Jack the look of a mother reprimanding her child.

I had to bite my tongue less I let my laugh escapes. Especially when Jack cocked her head to the side again. From her seat at the head of the table she had a clear view of the persons present, and at her raised brow everyone held their collective breath. They knew instinctively who the most dangerous predator in the room was. Even Mr. Bowman was feeling the tension. For all his misogynistic opinions, he would never go head on against Jack. He much preferred underhanded means. But there some people who lost their six sense and

"I would like to thank everyone for their presence and attention. This meeting is an opportunity to mend bridge and boost talents into showing more of their potential"

The heck, this woman is a riot. As I steal another glance toward Jack, I see that she has her eyes closed and her head is supported on her hand. God if this day end without me exploding my spleen from holding back my laughter it would be a miracle. But even if it did explode it would be just another reminder of this day. If I don't kick the bucket first. Focus. Focus.

"I would like to specially extends my gratitude towards Mr. Drake Plow for his contribution in this project…"

At the mention of my fake name another spasm pass through my body. It does not help that at the same time Jack choose that moment to sear me with the heat in her eyes. In response I incline my head deliberately toward Jack, ignoring completely the women standing in front of the table. Spare me my lady.

And spare she does.

"Ashely, sit down please." Jack interrupt her pseudo-assistant's next words. At the same time Bowman shift in his seat.

"But…"

"You have done enough." Ashley stands mute for a few second under Jack's stare and meaningful words, like a prey who got caught by a hunter. No way to hide or run. She then wisely lower herself into her seat. Jack does not take her gaze away from her assistant for a few seconds. She then trains her stare over all the room occupants and flashes a small, pleasant smile on her breathtaking face. The sods were lucky they got to witness such rare sight before the storm rages on.

"Jeremy, and Peter Hunt." The young men in question turn toward Jack as a unit, you would think they were trained by a drill sergeant.

"I have read and analyzed your proposal with our IT development department. The app and the operating system you have developed is indeed untried and visionary. Field tech would very much endorse such project with your involvement of course." at those word both men grew emotional and started to splutter their thanks and gratitude.

"Miss Acker thank you so much for this chance"

"Then, we can sign the contract, right?" Bowman ever the pleasant soul interrupted.

"Yes, with both the Lewis brother that is" Jack reply smoothly.

"Good then when can we do that?" the old fool does not even get the meaning of her words.

"Mr. Bowman until now I still do not understand your involvement with Lewis's tech, when I contacted Caltrop, they denied any involvement with the start up. So why are you here?" the question bewildered the old man for a few second and then he seemed to get his bearing.

"What do you mean what am I doing here? This project is as much mine as it those kids"

"Yours which mean?" By this point he was full on raging. My lady was good.

"Mine, my money was used to finance it."

"Your money… you mean Caltrop's? Because Mr. Bowman… you have gone bankrupt eighteen month ago. Right?" she elegantly slides a report toward him from a folded leather file. His eyes comically bug out from their sockets as he recognizes his balance report from his private accounts.

"H…how?"

"Hmm money, intelligence, and connections" the smile she gives him was so innocent and warm you would think she was talking to a harmless child.

"What's going on here? Are we still on for the project…?" the question came from one of the Hunt brothers. Poor kids looked anxious and fidgeted on their seat from the tension in the room.

I cut my eyes to Jack's assistant. She remained eerily silent and held herself stiffly. Did the guilt eat at her? I doubt it, it was much likely that she knew her role as a spy for Bowman was busted and she did not have the proper mindset to choose a reaction.

"Jeremy, can I call you that?" without waiting for his acquiescence Jack forged on. "You and your bother have nothing to worry about. This is just a slight issue that need to be taken care of before we move on." She sent the brothers a warm reassuring smile, they settled with a dazed look on their face. Again, who would blame them her smiles did pack a punch.

Jack then kept her pleasant smile and turned back toward Bowman whose face was now turning into a pasty shade of grey. His hair line was dotted with drops of sweat. It made his skin appear shiny and sick. It did not help that he was a man who liked to indulge himself heavily. Hi suit was bursting at the seam from his bulk and his heavy panicky beathing was not doing the material any good either. Jack touched her watch and a giant overhang screen slide down from the ceiling.

Another tap and the screen lit up showing a row of photos and scans of documents. Bowman had his month dangling open no doubt recognizing the title and signatures on the documents

Leaving the floor for my lady and enjoying the show was better than I have ever anticipated. Unmasking Bowman's side jobs as an industrial spy and money launder was truly an entertaining sight. But nothing beat Jack.

On the screen the documents were proof that he has signed on multiple money transfer requests, from Caltrop's secondary accounts. Not enough to raise suspicion, but enough that when accumulated throughout the years would become a substantial fortune. They also showed the trail of the money, which was tracked into his offshore account in the Cayman Islands.

The photos on the other hand showed him with member of a crime syndicate who specialized in money laundering, drug dealing, and worse human trafficking.

"Do you understand now Mr. Bowman?" He turned his head toward jack at that question. "You did not come here to execute your flowy plan; you came here to be metaphorically slaughtered." She continued to flash her comforting smile, while slaying him with every words.

"Isn't that right Ashley?" the woman in question was at this point looking like a deer caught in the headlight of a big mac truck. Every pair of eyes in the room turned towards her. But mine stayed on Jacks. I knew she sensed the heat in my perusal and liked it from the subtle side look she trained on me.

"W…what are you talking about J…Jack?" the stuttered inquiry came with an audible click in her throat. She ten nervously soothed her hand on her hair.

"Oh, you know just old trade secret stealing, industry spying…" As she finishes her sentence with a non-comical sound, I open my briefcase and slide another file toward jack this one with a through details on the assistant and her involvement with Bowman.

"Thank you, Mr. Plow." We lock eyes in a moment of shared humor.

"My pleasure Miss Acker."

"Oh, my you have been busy haven't you Ashely, and smart very smart. After all there was only so much technology can track right?"

She shows her the photo of her talking with a man in a gym. The picture would not ring any alarm bells at first sight. They appeared like a couple flirting. But when you dig deeper on the man background, like way deeper than any normal investigation, you will find a tie to the crime syndicate Bowman was dealing with. The same man was pictured with bowman in some of the photos on the screen.

The sound of a chair clattering came and Bowman now standing, and wheezing pointed his oversized index toward me his demeanor accusatory.

"YOU, you are with her" Jack did not pay any attention to him when he pointed his finger at her too, she had her eyes on her watch and tapped on the screen a few times.

"Of course, I am with her" I answer.

"Do you think you can destroy me. This proves nothing."

Suddenly the screen shows a video recording of Ashley entering a room via a watch that she held in her hand rather than on her wrist. The room looked like a server room with rows and rows of servers' tower. On the screen she beeline for one of the towers and opens the build in keyboard. After clicking on a few buttons, she inserts what seems like a USB drive. The video then speeds up and shows her taking the USB out and leaving the room using the same watch. The screen freeze at that moment.

A few taps more on the screen of her watch and this time another video appears, of Bowman in what look like a hangar. Armed man stood all aver the space from the angle of the camera we had a clear view of Bowman and another man. In their hand they held small square plastic packages. The plastic was held in the standard way done to drugs via duct tape. A few seconds later they opened one package and started to sample the content. At that moment Ashely came strolling from the hangar entrance with the same man from the gym.

A sob come out at the end of the video from the Ashley present in the room, "He made me do it" she burst out pointing in her turn her finger at Bowman who glares at her. "You bitch". Again, Jack does not pay attention to either of them as she continues to tap on the screen of her watch.

"Ah they have come at last I was starting to doubt the federal system in this city."

"What…?" before Bowman finishes his sentence a ping echo in the room -the same one I heard in the elevator- and several black suited figures enter from the main door. One of them a middle-aged man with a compact body and thinning hair, steps out and flashes what look like a badge toward Bowman.

"Greg Bowman, FBI special agent Sloan you are under arrest for the federal charges of multiple illegal trafficking and money laundering." the FBI agent shows him next what appear to be a court order.

I take the moment to latch my eyes on Jack. How did I know that she would also be looking at me? We share that small smile the one that soften her mouth and communicate many secrets from her eyes of fantasy. Secrets about her, me, us.

Dreams, photos, or even videos have never given me a glimpse of that smile, it was as if a frozen land met with the first day of spring sun. A gradual melting. Soft, delicate, but still lethal.

The moment is cut of when the same FBI agent start addressing a hysterically sobbing Ashley with another court order, this one with the charge of trade secret stealing and industry spying.

"I am sure you're dying to say it." I say to jack.

"You did always know me so well." She says, as we both stand.

"A moment please…" Just as they are escorting them outside Jack turn toward the agents flanking her ex- assistant and stop them. "I just wanted to tell you Ashley that it has been a pleasure, and you are very much fired."

"You fucking bitch" her attempt to hurl herself is tempered by the FBI agents. At last, both Bowman and Ashley are escorted outside.

"I have been called that many times in my life, but it never gets old." Jack says.

"I hate it" I do my Jack might be many things but never a bitch.

"It's because you are no fun."

"Am I now."

"Yes."

"Hmm."

"M…Miss Acker, Mr. Plow?" We both turn at the same time toward the hesitant caller.

We see the two brothers fidgeting on their seats. We look at each other and share another small smile.

"Shall we?" she asks.

"We shall."

Now, on to the next phase of the ultimate reunion plan. Lunch.