Escape

         He found her in the shadow of the lighthouse. She faced away from him allowing the breeze to whip her jacket behind her like a cape. He walked slowly forward raising his gun and aiming it at her. He did not pause long enough to admire the history and grace of the building towering over him. Instead he spoke.
         "You're under arrest."
         She turned slowly with a calm blank look. He noted her calm face. Told that she was armed and dangerous, he expected a fight. Instead she was still.
         "You can't stop me whoever you are." Was all she said before turning back to the sea.
         He stepped closer. "My name is Agent Marcus Wilcox of the FBI. Turn back around and put your hands on your head."
         She turned but didn't comply. He went to speak again but something about her eyes stopped him. She had not reached for a weapon and yet he felt tense as if she had. She spoke. "You will not do this. I am going back to Mexico."
         "No you are not. The Mexican government will not allow it and neither does the United States government. You have been ordered to remain in the United States due to your actions during two international incidents over the last ten years."
         "Oh those? My! You did read my file." Spoken calmly, she turned to look at the lighthouse. Her dark hair waving in the breeze as she slowly tilted her head upward. The area in which the lighthouse had been built was known as one of the foggiest areas on the California coast, let alone North America. The fog seemed to be thickening around them as she looked up at the light.
         He wondered why she chose this spot.
         "Point Reyes." She spoke as if hearing his thoughts. "After it was built, the area was still flooded with shipwrecks. Do you know what shipwrecks are?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Shipwrecks are history. Each wreck, each life lost, was history being born. Ten years ago I left home to uncover my history after my life was ripped apart like a ship out on those rocks and you know what I got for it? A war. The temple was destroyed, my lover dead, and the Mexican government kicked me out. Then as a lovely topping to this cake of disaster, my own government sent me to the south pole. And we ALL KNOW HOW that went! I killed a man there. Now I'm a prisoner of the US. The government, our government means to beat me down as a ship caught in the surf out there." She pointed out to sea. "I'm not going to allow that to happen. Not anymore." She walked closer. "Listen to me Agent Wilcox. I like you. Why? You haven't shot me yet. First person ever in my life who has held a loaded weapon at me and not pulled the trigger, so I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going back to Mexico finish what I went there for in the first place."
         The guns' hammer cocked. It was oddly loud in the quiet approaching dawn. "No."
         She stepped back, her expression changing ever so slightly. He saw her as she truly was then. Since the Mexican massacre and the collapse of the temple and since the situation in Antarctica, the official reports called her a domestic terrorist. At first upon laying his eyes on her he found it hard to believe until that moment. Her eyes were hard and dark. The media may call her a real life Lara Croft but suddenly Christina Cortes was the most dangerous woman on earth.
         She bolted.
         In the past the lighthouse warned sailors of the danger ahead. Today it failed to warn him about his clearly forgotten training as he ran between the lighthouse and the edge. He stopped short. Christina was in front of him.
         And suddenly armed.
         Yet, as he stopped he didn't fire.
         "Ever break someones heart, Agent Wilcox? A child? A lover? Your president?" She said knowingly. "I was here a week ago. A week ago I broke up with my girlfriend right about where you're standing. Given how famous she is, I'm sure you heard all about it. After she stormed off I left myself a little gift not too far below us."
         He saw then she had shedded the long coat she was wearing. She was in a wet suit.
         Still he couldn't fire. "One last chance."
         She smiled thinly. "Sorry." And with that she backed up and ran hard before vaulting over the fence. He ran over and looked down. She moved graceful. A well researched jump. As she went down she pulled a long strap behind her. Off the rocks below a set of scuba tanks went sailing into the air above her. Both woman and tanks landed safely in the Pacific Ocean. He doubted it was enough air to get to Mexico, but the rest of the trip was not up to him. His part was done. He stepped back and spoke into his ear piece.
         "The bird is free. The bird is free. Ready Stage Two. Also inform the park service they can put the higher safety fence back." He then turned, holstered his unloaded weapon and headed back to the three hundred or so steps leading uphill to visitors center.

Word Count: 906