First she had been forced to change all of her plans because Lyle captured Emily. and after she finally thought she had the situation under control again she received that call from a police station. Angry, she pressed her lips together and stepped harder on the accelerator. She couldn’t be positive, of course, but she had a strong suspicion that her mystery "son" was actually Jarod’s clone!
Damn the lot of ‘em!’ She thought resentfully. ‘I haven’t met one member of that family that hasn’t been hell bent on screwing up my life. First Jarod, then the Major, and Emily throwing a monkey wrench into my departure plans, and now the clone. What next? Is Margaret going to show up and need a blood transfusion from me?----What a mess.’
She slowed the car down and pulled up into the parking lot in front of the police station. This kid had better have a stellar explanation for this!’ She cursed silently. The trip had taken 2 hours from her already very tight schedule.
Miss Parker hurried up the stairs, pushed open the big double doors in the front, and entered the police station. ‘A typical police station.’ She thought, disgusted. She hated the smell, a mixture of unwashed bodies, stale alcohol, and inadequate floral scented air freshener. She was just about to ask for directions when she spotted the boy at a nearby table. JJ looked up at the same moment, jumped up and threw himself into her arms, almost knocking her off balance with the exuberance of his greeting.
"Momma!" He called out, overjoyed.
Lyle closed his cell phone. Where the hell was she? He had been waiting her for hours now. He had called at the Centre and Donoterase looking for her! Her new secretary at the lab had told him that she left about 2 1/2 hours ago. She volunteered the information that when she left Miss Parker had seemed to be in a pretty big hurry. When she hadn’t returned home in a reasonable amount of time, he’d called the Centre again, but she hadn’t returned there either.
Damn her and her eternal secrecy.’
Her long absence only served to fuel his anger. He would make sure she paid for every second he had to spend in these damn woods, he promised himself. His rage grew as he studied the house again and the thought crossed his mind that Jarod had probably been inside it more than he had. How dare she leave her house so easy for him to break into? How dare Jarod presume to invade his sister’s home? But thinking about Jarod was not the best way to regain control, Lyle admitted grimly. The next time he laid hands on that arrogant bastard, though, he would die. Soothed by visions of Jarod and his sister bound and at his mercy, Lyle settled back down to wait.
Dad, leave it!" Jarod tried to avoid his father, and stepped out of the bedroom, the older man on his heels.
The Major sighed inwardly, ‘Here we go again.’ He thought tiredly. They had been arguing for over two hours. Jarod had resorted to yelling at his father; telling him to leave him alone, claiming that he didn’t need anybody. Then, a moment later, he had cried, wanting to know what he had done to deserve his hellish life, and that was followed only minutes later by more angry yelling. The fact that he was still fighting the alcohol in his system didn’t help anything.
The older man looked at his son, who now sat in a chair next to the table in the living room, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging. What could he do? Nothing, really, except to be there for his son, and to offer himself as a sympathetic ear for Jarod to express his anger and pain.
Major shook his head, convinced that he wasn’t seeing the full picture. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t able to put the finger on just what it was. He had only met Miss Parker once, and most of that encounter he’d spent looking down the barrel of his own gun, a relic from his time in the military. She had started the interview by announcing her intention to shoot him, and things didn’t get much better after that. She had been angry and on edge the entire time. In the nearly non-existent lighting of the cell there in the deep sublevels of the Centre, he’d only glimpses of her, but his first impression was that Catherine was back. She had the same beauty as her mother, but there was something more. Something different.
She had been a strange mixture of contradictions; strong, yet vulnerable, angry and yet her eyes betrayed a desolation that made him want to cry. It was clear that she wanted to hate him, but there was another side to her that wouldn’t let her take action without knowing both sides of the story. She had listened to him, even though it was clear she wasn’t sure if she could believe him. He knew without a doubt that she had heard far too many lies in her life.
He remembered his last conversation with Catherine. She had told him that she was willing to do anything at all to rescue her child form the claws of the Centre. The major wondered what her daughter was willing to do to keep her child safe. Not to have the child in the first place, had that been her solution?
He looked at the miserable figure huddled in the chair; his son. Jarod would have loved to be a father, and he knew exactly how his felt right now. With another inward sigh he remembered his elation when his wife had told him that she was pregnant. With a smile he recalled the moment when he laid his had on Margaret’s lightly swollen stomach and felt the light movements of the baby. He regretted that Jarod wasn’t going to have the chance to experience that kind of joy this time.
Love could be cruel, and there was no question that his son loved this woman. A part of his anger, the Major suspected, was the result of the fact that no matter what she had done he simply could not stop loving her.
He walked over to his son and laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
"Why don’t I go out and see where JJ is? I think we could all use something to eat right about now." With an encouraging squeeze of the shoulder, he left his oldest to look for his youngest.
Jarod lifted his head and looked after his father’s retreating back. He felt like someone was using his head as a drum. He could still feel the pulsing rhythm.
Parker would have loved---’ He started to say and then stopped, only to groan out loud. Sooner or later every thought led him back to the one person he never wanted to think about again.
He still could not understand why. The thing that hurt the most was that she hadn’t even considered him important enough to tell. He had always dreamed of having a family; his father, his mother and Emily, yes, but also a family of his own. He wanted to have somebody to love and to take care of. A place he could call home, where he could always return. Children were a part of that picture. A baby girl with deep blue eyes----
Enough!’ He tried to stop his thoughts.
This image had haunted him during the nights and now it was creeping in when he was awake as well. He scanned the room, maybe he could find something to distract his mind. Nothing. Chair, table, laptop, note, fireplace.. he stopped.
There was a small yellow note on the laptop. Slowly, afraid that a sudden movement would bring back the full orchestra in his head instead this lonely drummer, he rose from his chair and made his way over to the other side of the table. He reached over and grabbed the post-it.
He read the note and felt a wave of nausea swept over him. He was just about to call for his father when the Major came back.
"I can’t find JJ...." the Major’s comment trailed off when he saw Jarod. He looked, if possible, even paler than he had when he’d first awakened this morning. He stared at him with a shocked expression. At the same moment he noticed the piece of yellow paper in Jarod’s left hand..
Not expecting good news Jarod father slowly walked over to his son.
"JJ is on his way to Blue Cove to help Miss Parker." Jarod said bleakly, handing the note to the older man.
In slow motion the Major lowered the gaze to the paper in his hand, not sure if he really wanted to read the full message. While reading it he felt like he’d been hit by a train. He shoved the paper in his pocket turned to grab the laptop.
Grab your jacket, son," he ordered.
With a click he closed the small computer not bothering to turn it off. Neither of the men noticed the still-open mail icon on the screen.
Angelo made his way to the vent as fast as he could. After Miss Parker had left he had crawled back to his favorite hiding place curled up and tried to make the right decision. It always came back to the same thing, she needed help. More than just Jarod. He began to move again.
He carefully scanned the room, but nobody except from Sydney and Broots were inside. Once he was sure that it was safe he opened the vent and entered the room.
Angelo." The older man welcomed him warmly.
Angelo tried to smile and hurried over to Sydney
Help." He cursed his difficulty in speaking as he forced out the word.
"Help whom? Are you hurt? " Sydney asked with concern.
Miss Parker needs help." Angelo managed, thinking that at least that was clear. He hated his inability to get out the words that were so clear in his mind, but the damage that Raines’ electroshock treatments had done to his brain appeared to be irreversible.
Angelo sensed Sydney’s hesitation with a growing sense of desperation. They had to help soon, or it would be to late.
"Miss Parker needs help," He repeated, his voice pleading. "both dead soon."
“Sydney, what is he talking about?" Broots asked in a scared voice. Angelo seemed to be highly agitated, desperate even.
"I’m not sure." The psychiatrist answered him. "I think Miss Parker and Emily might be in danger." While he told this to Broots he looked at Angelo, who nodded and shook his head at the same time.
“Help, now!" He pressed them. Broots and Sydney looked at each other for several heartbeats; Broots worried and ready to spring into action, Sydney unsure.
"I’m going!" Broots finally burst out defiantly. "She’s never let me down and I won’t fail her now."
"You’re right, Broots." Sydney sighed with a touch of self contempt. "I have been a bit of a self-righteous prig, haven’t I?"
Broots wisely left that question unanswered as the three men hurried out of the Centre.
"Are you mad at me?" The boy asked worriedly.
Well, I’ve been happier." She admitted, "but I suspect that I’ll let you live. Who do I have to talk to about getting you out of here?"
He’s over there." JJ pointed to an older man, balding and sporting the beginnings of a beer belly.
"Okay, kid, let’s spring you." She smiled down at him lovingly just as the officer looked up and spotted the two of them.
"You must be Ms. Parker." He said genially, offering a hand to shake. Parker obliged him and agreed that she was Ms. Parker.
"JJ wouldn’t tell us why he ran away, but I do recommend that you talk it over and work things out." He advised seriously. "We picked him up hitchhiking on the highway. Too many sickos out there to have our kids doing that."
"I agree wholeheartedly." Parker flustered the man with a dazzling smile. "Thank you so much for saving----JJ from his rashness. We’ll work things out on the way home. I’m sure he’ll never try that again; will you, JJ?"
"No, Mom. I’m sorry I did such a stupid thing." JJ managed to look loving and contrite at the same time. There was no doubt
"Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get JJ home and call in to work before they send a posse after me. Is it all right for us to go now?" She cut the voluble man off as he opened his mouth, and sent another killer smile at him that made him blush.
"Sure, Ma’am. Nice kid you got there." He added kindly. "You’re doing a good job with him---not a disrespectful brat like so many of them nowadays."
"Thank you so much." Parker’s teeth were gritted as she tried to reign in her irritation. Would the man never shut up and let them leave? JJ solved the dilemma by tugging on her arm.
"Mom, I’m hungry." He said innocently. "I haven’t eaten since breakfast."
Parker shot the officer a "what can you do?" look and hustled JJ out of there before the man could come up with something else.
At Donoterase an older woman was entering Emily’s cell, flanked by two sweepers. Emily was well educated in the martial arts and with the addition of Miss Parker’s parting gift she’d been feeling optimistic about making an escape, but the sweepers gave her a twinge of worry.
"We need you for a few tests. If you’ll just come this way?" The woman said impersonally.
"Okay." Emily said agreeably. When she reached the small group by the door, though, she swept the smaller guard’s feet out from under him in a scythe kick and stunned the other guard with a double fisted punch that had all of the force of her body’s upward momentum as she sprang up from the kick.
Keeping her advantage of surprise she hustled the researcher out of the room and slammed the door shut on the dazed sweepers in a blur of movement. Almost before the woman knew what had happened Emily had the gun Parker had left under her pillow pressed against the scientist’s ribs.
"Okay, I don’t want any trouble and I’m sure you don’t want any trouble." Emily said calmly, only slightly out of breath from her exertion. "So you show me the exit to the hell hole, and I’ll let you live. Sound like a deal?"
The woman glance briefly at the door, thinking about the two hulking brutes on the other side that Emily had managed to take out, and nodded her head slowly.
"This way." She breathed timidly, leading Emily through the subterranean passages to an exit. She took a less direct route so that they could avoid other people and they were fortunate enough to reach the door to Emily’s freedom without an encounter.
"The carpool is in here." The researcher whispered. "It’s not guarded because this place is already hidden. You should be able to find something with the keys in it without too much trouble."
"Thank you!" Emily responded, surprised at the woman’s helpfulness.
"Once you take employment with the Centre it’s for life, but that doesn’t mean we all enjoy our jobs. I’m glad you’re escaping." The other explained wryly. "Now I have one less nightmare to keep me awake at night."
"Thanks." Emily repeated. "Now, if you’ll forgive me, this is for your own good." She spun the woman around and applied a sleeper hold on her.
"We don’t want them to think you helped me willingly." She heard Emily explain before the lack of oxygen to her brain took effect and she passed out.
"There." Emily looked at the unconscious woman with satisfaction. "It’ll be a few moments before you come to, and I know your head will hurt, but not nearly as bad as it would if I’d hit you." She slipped through the door and had appropriated a silver Towncar before the scientist regained consciousness. By the time they could get the woman to tell them what had happened, Emily was miles away and putting more distance between her and the hidden facility as fast as she dared.
"Now what?" She thought suddenly. "I can’t just leave without letting Miss Parker know I’m safe, but I haven’t got a clue how to find her."
Jarod and his father searched a 50 foot radius from the cabin and then got in the vehicle to search the roads. An hour’s searching finally took them as far as the small town several miles from the cabin. There they discovered that a boy fitting JJ’s description had boarded a bus for Delaware several hours ago.
It was then that Jarod realized his phone was missing. He opened his case to retrieve it and discovered it was gone.
"At least if something happens he can call for help." He suggested, trying to ease both of their anxiety. "But I still want someone I trust at the Centre watching for him."
He opened the laptop, ready to e-mail Broots since he and Sydney hadn’t left on a good note the last time they had spoken, and saw that the machine was still running, still displaying the message that has sent JJ off. He read it, felt the blood drain from his face, and read it again.
"Dad." He said hoarsely, swallowing down nausea. "Pull over. You need to see this."
"What’s the matter, son?" Major Charles glanced over, noted his son’s pallor, and pulled over. Jarod just turned the computer screen to face his father, unable to speak.
"Well I’ll be damned!" The Major breathed in amazement.
"No, Dad, I think that’s my line." Jarod groaned. "I’m going to kill her, you know." He added, anger rising even hotter than before.
"Son." Charles cautioned him. "She was only doing what she thought best. Give her a chance."
Jarod stared unseeingly at his father.
"I’m going to kill her." He finally whispered again, not even seeming to register his father’s presence. With a sigh the Major put them into motion again.
‘Those two are like fire and oil.’ He thought with an element of amusement. ‘Perfect together, but so combustible!’
Lyle stiffened as he heard the car approaching. He knew it was her, who else would be so far away from civilization at this hour of the day? His heart began to pound with anticipation as he waited for her to arrive, so he could spring his trap.
He noted the presence of the boy with a sense of fate. His sister and the boy! When he turned the boy back over to the Triumvirate he’d be forgiven anything. His eyes gleamed with avarice as the car parked and the tall woman and growing boy stepped out….
JJ opened the passenger door from the car and hopped out.
"Wow, do you always drive that fast?" The boy asked, exited and with a happy sparkle in his eyes.
"No, only when you or your family is involved." Miss Parker scowled at the boy. JJ’s smile faded until he saw her wink. Then his grin reappeared, a bit broader this time.
"OK, let’s go inside. You can wait here while I drive back to Donoterase and grab your sister." She lifted her arm a bit in a silent invitation and the boy slipped in to let her squeeze his shoulders while she guided him to the entrance of her home.
JJ snuggled closer, thinking that he had been right, she was kind and nice. He hadn’t expected the police to grab him, and he hadn’t been sure how she would react when the police called her and told her that her son was waiting for him. He had been a bit worried while he waited that his father and Jarod might have been right. But the moment he saw Miss Parker walking in he knew he was right, and they were wrong.
The boy snickered inwardly at their misconception. She was really cool. As far as he could tell, she had broken every speed limit and many other traffic laws on the way here. Driving with Jarod or his father had never been as much fun as his one ride with her.
Miss Parker looked down at the happily grinning boy at her side. Normally she would have be angry, or at least irritated. To her own surprise she only felt happy to see him again. No matter what, she vowed inwardly, she would manage to keep him safe too. For what seemed to be the thousandth time she asked herself just how had she ended up as the rescuer for Jarod’s entire family?
Lyle watched them walking up to the house, and it made him sick to see the boy snuggling up to his sister. She’d never offered him that kind of affection, and he was her own brother! 10 minutes, then he would follow, and Parker would learn her place...
"You’re sure this was the boy the police grabbed?" Jarod asked the truck driver.
The man carefully studied the picture over the rim of his sunglasses. "Yeah, sure. He was asking around for a truck heading to Blue Cove."
"Do you know where the police took him?" The Major stepped in.
"Nope, but there’s a police station at the end of this road." The driver pointed to a single building about 600 yards away.
"Thank you very much." The Major answered gratefully.
“I just hope," Jarod said to his father while they hurried back to the car. "That he’s still there."
"Don’t worry, son, where would he go? The police won’t let him walk out on his own." The older man assured him.
"Sydney, I have a very bad feeling about this." Broots sighed and nervously clutched the steering wheel harder. "Nobody has heard anything from Lyle or Miss Parker for hours. This isn’t good; not good at all."
Sydney sat in the passenger seat with his eyes nearly closed. He was trying to make sense out of all the confusing information they had received in the past two hours. Broots was right; recent events had left a foul taste of fear in his mouth. Something was utterly wrong. He was worried that something might have already happened and they would arrive too late to help her. If that were so, it would all be his fault. Instead of trusting his own instincts he had believed Parker’s icy act. He still wasn’t sure what was really going on, but he knew he had made a big mistake in condemning the woman he’d worked with for the past 4 years. If he hadn’t learned anything else in his years at his less than ideal workplace, he should have at least figured out that at the Centre nothing was ever what it seemed to be.
He sighed again. He had worked with Miss Parker very closely for 4 years. They had spend nearly every day and more than a few late work nights together, and he thought he should have known her by now. After she had told him that she knew about his Refuge internet site, he had seen her smile. It was the first really warm and relaxed smile he had seen on her face in far too many years and it made him hope that she cared more for Jarod than she would admit. And the way Jarod sacrificed everything to try and save her after Willie shot her in the back... Sydney shook his head, angry at himself. He was a fool, that’s all, an old romantic fool.
Broots slowed the car down as they neared her house. Sydney hoped that she was at home because they really needed to talk.. He only hoped she would trust them enough to finally be honest about what was troubling her and to let them help her.
"What do you mean my son isn’t here? You just let him take off? Alone???" Major Charles demanded incredulously.
"No, we let him go with his mother." The officer answered solidly, his manner expressing outrage that his judgment had been questioned.
"His mother?" Jarod asked softly. "Tall woman, auburn hair, bluest eyes God ever made? Name of Parker?"
"Yes." The officer smiled. "Looked like a model, in a lethal sort of way. Gorgeous woman. If I were only a few years younger…" He trailed off with a happy sigh. Jarod fought down a red haze of jealous anger.
"Parker, yes, that’s what she said her name was." He finally pulled his thoughts back to the present, but the reminiscent smile on his lips made Jarod’s blood boil. The officer, seeing the anger, but misunderstanding its source, assumed that Jarod was angry that Parker had custody of the boy at the moment.
"Her and the boy were obviously very close. Is that why he ran off? This some kind of a custody battle?" His eyes narrowed with suspicious censure.
"Something like that." The Major admitted, placing a calming hand onto Jarod’s shoulder.
"Well it would be a sin to try and separate those two. I never saw a mother so devoted to her child." The officer scolded.
"Is this Mis---uh, Ms. Parker, we’re talking about?" Jarod demanded with open skepticism.
"I already told you that." The officer growled, he and Jarod sizing each other up like two strange dogs preparing for a battle over territory.
"So, you released JJ into Ms. Parker’s care." The Major confirmed smoothly while Jarod tried to regain control of himself. His father’s vice-like grip on his shoulder warned him to keep his mouth shut from here on out.
"Yes. And if you want my advice," (They didn’t, but that didn’t stop him.) "You’ll all make up. That’s a good kid you guys got. Don’t hurt him with your own problems." He scolded albeit with the best of intentions.
"Officer, you have no idea how much we want to do exactly that." Jarod answered fervently. "C’mon, Dad. Let’s go get my brother and make up with Parker, okay?"
The Major and Jarod both suppressed smiles as they made their farewells and tore out of the station. Jarod knew where Parker lived. Soon now, very soon…
Back to the present...
Lyle entered the house through the back door. He could her his sister happily chatting with the boy, and it made him sick. He had never heard her laugh so much. He stopped and listened them. Pizza? They were discussing the best toppings for pizzas? Now the boy was asking for ice-cream for dessert. ENOUGH! He couldn’t bear to stand by and listen to them pretending to be a loving little family any longer.
Silently he stepped towards the kitchen door, glad that it wasn’t completely closed, so he could enter without making any noise that could reveal his presence. He reached for his weapon, and as quietly as he could he flicked the safety off. Carefully he peered through the small door slit.
‘Perfect!’ He thought with malicious satisfaction, ‘The boy is close enough to grab before she can react to my presence.’
With one powerful push he slammed the door open and grabbed JJ in the next instant. He had the gun pressed to the boy’s temple before his sister could even turn.
Miss Parker heard a loud thud from behind and whirled, instinctively reaching for her gun while she turned. The sight that met her eyes made her freeze, and then lower her weapon a bit.
"That’s right, Sis. One wrong move and your little clone is dead. Drop it. NOW!" The last word Lyle shouted triumphantly at her. He had no real intentions to kill the clone, but if she didn’t obey he would shoot him in a painful, if non-fatal place.
"OK. You win. Just let the boy go." Miss Parker replied as she slowly placed her weapon on the nearby table.
Frantically, she tried to come up with a plan of action, a solution to this unexpected twist, but at the moment there wasn’t anything she could do. Better to play along, and hope that later Lyle would make a mistake she could take advantage of. If there was a later, that is. If she didn’t solve this problem soon, everything would be lost anyway. She didn’t dare to hope that the Triumvirate would take much longer to discover her plans and treachery.
Lyle pushed the kid slightly away from him.
"Don’t move!" He ordered grimly. "If you do, I’ll shoot you, but I’ll make sure you live long enough to watch my traitorous sister die."
JJ nodded in agreement. He was shocked and not sure how to react. Everything had happened so fast, he thought dazedly, and it was all his fault. He’d never even thought that Miss Parker would need his help. Parker tried vainly to catch his eye, to reassure him everything would be okay, but JJ wasn’t focusing on anything but his self-recrimination.
Lyle kept the weapon trained on the boy’s head while he reached with his other hand into his pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
"Here Sis, put this on one wrist." With this he threw her the cuffs.
With a dark glare she obeyed.
"Good girl" Lyle taunted, his good humor restored by the fear and anger radiating from his two captives. "Now take your cuffs and use them to chain the boy to the pipes over there. He pointed with his head to a spot close to the door.
Miss Parker stepped closer to the teenager, noting the fear and guilt in his eyes with deep regret. ‘God, he thinks this is his fault!’ She wished she had time to explain the sick nature of her brother to him, but Lyle’s jaw was clenching ominously.
"It’s all right." She assured JJ softly. "Come over here and take a seat on the chair, so you can sit while you’re chained. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you"
The boy kept his head down.
"Do you hear me?" She pressed insistently. "I won’t let anything happen to you; remember that."
JJ looked up, straight into her eyes, and the utter faith and love in his eyes took her breath away. Once again, she swore inwardly that she’d do anything that was necessary to keep her promise to him. She would keep him safe!
"That’s enough!" Lyle interrupted their silent conversation impatiently. The concern and protection his sister was showing for this brat infuriated him. Hell! He was her brother, but she had never even given him a friendly word. Now this clone, not even a real boy, but one created in a test tube, was the recipient of her love. Lyle’s hatred of the boy grew. Maybe he should kill him anyway...? No, he was worth too much, but he would show the boy just who had the power here-----later, though, much later! First he had to teach his sister a lesson.
"Move to the door." Lyle ordered, pointing to the door at the other end of the room.
Not wanting to make him even more angry, but unable to resist, Parker ruffled JJ’s hair before she moved to obey, hoping to calm him and reassure him that everything was going to be OK. She ignored the fulminating glare her brother gave her with the mask of cold indifference she’d spent most of her life perfecting. When she reached the door Lyle ordered her to stop. He moved over to check JJ’s cuffs, satisfying himself that he was securely chained to the pipe before he turned his attention back to his sister.
Lyle kept the gun trained on Miss Parker at all times, being careful to stay out of her reach. Her present cooperation didn’t fool him for a second. If she had half a chance she could, and would, take him out in an instant. He had the utmost respect for her physical prowess, he’d seen her work out.
"Go." He ordered tersely.
Miss Parker obeyed, following his instructions as he guided her through the living room and over to the door of her bedroom. Her heart sank as she opened the door and walked in, Lyle directly behind her. Her mind was racing futilely. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t come up with a solution to this dilemma.
Damn! Why hadn’t she anticipated something like this from Lyle? She tried to buy herself some time by walking slowly through the room. Waiting for help would be a waste of time, she knew. No one who knew her would have any reason to think she needed help, not that they would care even if they did know. She’d pretty much burned her bridges behind her with Sydney and Broots, Jarod was God only knew where, and he’d made it pretty obvious he hated her now, her father was also missing in action, busy guarding Brigitte and the baby he wanted so desperately. Right now the only two people who’d give a damn about her safety were Emily and JJ, and they were as helpless as she was.
Parker heard Lyle follow her into the room. She turned and looked at her brother. If she had doubted at all what he wanted from her, that doubt was erased by what she saw on his face. She ruthlessly suppressed a shiver of dread as the anticipatory gleam in her brother eyes gave him away. That sick bastard wanted to see her fear and disgust, and she’d die before she gave him the satisfaction.
"Could you please close the door?" She asked as coolly as she could manage.
"Trying to spare the little brat, are you?" Lyle jeered with a smug grin. "Practicing to be a mommy, dearest sister?" he mocked viciously.
"I’m still not sure if you’re carrying the little lab rat or not. To be honest, I don’t care one way or the other. You’re mine; you’ve always belonged to me and no child, real or imaginary, will ever change that." Not waiting for an answer, he slammed the door shut and advance into the room, determination in his every move.
"Now go over to the bed, sit down and cuff yourself to the bedpost." Lyle ordered, the hot light in his eyes and the greed with which he appraised her body making Parker battle with both nausea and rising fear. "If you’re a good girl for me I may just consider not hurting your little boy out there. But you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?" He asked, an insane note of delusion entering into is voice.
Miss Parker nodded in agreement, concentrating with every fiber of her being on maintaining her mask of calm. Mechanically, she walked over to her bed and did what he had ordered. He was smarter than she expected----he was staying just out of reach until she was safely restrained. If they’d been alone she would have taken a chance and jumped him, regardless of the consequences. But if he shot her now JJ would be left all alone. No matter how smart the boy was, he didn’t stand a chance against this psycho. She suspected her brother knew that the boy was a much stronger chain than the cuffs.
Lyle watched her sitting down on the bed and closing the handcuffs around her wrists. A satisfied grin engulfed his face when he heard them click hut. For a moment he considered finding something to tie her feet with as well, but he dismissed this idea a moment later. Thanks to the boy, further restraints wouldn’t be necessary. Of course, he’d still have to teach the little brat a lesson later, regardless of what he’d promised his sister about not hurting him, but reneging on a promise had never bothered him in the least.
Parker was given a few precious moments reprieve as Lyle became distracted by thoughts of what he could do with the boy when he was done with his sister. Maybe he’d could play a round of Russian roulette with him---the Triumvirate needed his brain, not his body. They surely wouldn’t mind if he just shot the boy’s kneecaps, after all, that would only make it harder for the rat to ever run again.
The original Jarod had never quite satisfied him when he’d gotten to toy with him. The Tower and the Triumvirate had always watched far too closely for him to really enjoy himself, but nobody had the slightest clue that he was here, at his sister’s house, much less that she’d somehow managed to locate the clone. He briefly wondered just how she had managed that anyway, before returning to his pleasurable plans. Yes, the boy would be much more fun to play with. He was younger, malleable, and far more easily frightened. Maybe he would let his dear sister watch him work. That would teach her to give someone else the love and affection she owed him! The thought filled him with sadistic anticipation and refocused his attention on his stoically waiting sister.
She watched, keeping her face impassive by exerting every ounce of her willpower, as Lyle laid is weapon on the nearby night-stand. He slipped out of his jacket, his eyes never leaving his sister’s face. Not only was he ready to grab his gun the instant she made a single wrong move, but he wanted to savor every moment of her fear and pain. No matter what she might try, she knew that right now he had the upper hand and he’d win.
‘Face it Parker,’ she told herself grimly. "You’ve been outmaneuvered and now you’re checkmated.’ Lyle stood about four steps away from the bed, avidly watching every nuance of her expression. He knew she was trying to hide her fear, but he was a master at this game and he recognized every flicker of the eye, every twitch of the jaw. He relished the expression on her face, knowing that her mind was racing, trying to come up with any kind of a plan to save herself and the boy.
His smile broadened, she’d been a worthy adversary, and even now she remained a challenge. It didn’t matter that he’d won, that she was completely defenseless, not even now would she give up. He respected her strength, even as he looked forward to breaking it. It was a shame, really. None of this would have been necessary if she had only been able to see that they belonged together. Fate itself had bonded them together in the womb and it was obvious that they were a team----and what a team they would make when he finally finished her training! Together nobody could would even dare to competed with them. Right now he was willing to settle for second best, but Lyle knew that eventually he could dispense with the chains. One day she would stay where she belonged, next to him.
"Don’t worry," he said, his voice oddly gentle. "Everything will be okay now. I’m not angry with you anymore. Even if you are still pregnant, and I will find out soon enough if that’s so, it won’t affect us. You’ll just have the baby and then we’ll give it to the Triumvirate. You’ll never even have to think about it anymore; it will be just you and me. I promise that nobody, except me, will ever touch you again. I’m truly sorry that I let Jarod have you, but eventually you’ll understand it was for the best."
Lyle closed the distance between them and sat down next to his twin. He reached out with his damaged hand and placed it on her cheek. He smiled as he saw her flinch, but his heart warmed with pride as she continued to deny her fear. He was, inwardly at least, blown away by her courage. Every other woman he had "trained" had started to cry and plead long before he had gotten this far. But he had never really doubted her valiant heart, not really. After all, she too was a Parker.
It was almost as though his hand had taken on a life of its own as he caressed her face. She started to jerk her head away, but simply raising his eyebrows made her stop and submit to his attentions. Pleasure coursed like fire through his veins, such sweet submission! She was his, he exulted, only his!
"I don’t want to hurt you." He assured her, his voice full of his own, twisted, version of love. He lowered his face towards hers until he was so close to her ear that she could feel his hot breath on the exposed skin of her neck. "But you know that I will have to if you ever do this again. You are mine, never allow yourself to forget that. You belong to me, body and soul. If you try to deny that, I will have no choice but to hurt you. First you, and later the little bastard in the kitchen. Do you understand? The choice is yours, I don’t ever want to have to mar your perfect skin, but if you force me... " his voice trailed off regretfully.
He could not see her at that moment, he was too busy breathing in the warm fragrance of her neck, but he felt her nod her understanding, her soft hair brushing his cheek, and he felt goose bumps of excitement raise the hair at the nape of his neck and on his arms.
God, he loved the hold he had over her! Lyle knew it was mostly because of the non-entity in the kitchen, but that was okay with him for now. He couldn’t understand why she tried to protect that little brat, but he was thankful that she did, it made things so much easier.
Barely touching her he let his hand slide down her face, towards her neck, the sensation of her soft skin under his hand made his mind spin.
"Don’t you like this?" He asked in a soft and low voice, but without the slightest doubt that she soon would. He lifted his head and looked straight into her eyes.
"I am sorry that I let Jarod touch you. I see now that it was a mistake, that he could never be worthy of you, but I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make you forget him, I swear."
"Don’t delude yourself." Parker answered through lips so tight that they were white along the edges. "I loathe the feel of your hands on me. I wouldn’t even shake your hand if I could avoid it. And I loved the way Jarod touched me. If you knew me half as well as you think you do, you would have known that the drugs you fed me that night weren’t necessary. I would have given him freely what you have to take by force."
She never saw the blow coming, although she knew it would. Suddenly the left side of her face was on fire and a trickle of salty blood filled her mouth from a cut that the force of the blow left just inside of her cheek.
"Never, NEVER, speak to me that way again." Lyle yelled, love and tenderness burned out of his mind by white-hot rage.
Her raised his hand to hit her a second time when he saw a small stream of blood running down her arm. He had hit her so hard that her whole body had jerked, and the metal of the cuffs had sliced the skin around one of her wrists.
In an instant his mood changed again, to guilt and remorse.
"Why did you make me do that?" He asked sadly, his eyes glued to the fluid trickling down her arm. "I told you not to make me angry."
He reached out and caught a drop of blood on the tip of one finger. Parker’s face twisted in a grimace of disgust as he carefully he studied the red liquid on his finger, and then slowly brought it to his mouth, his eyes closing as he tasted her for the first time.
The sweet and metallic taste sent a hot jolt of desire through his body. He had wanted to make this special. After all, your first time should be a memory to cherish forever, but he couldn’t withstand the lust to possess her a moment longer. Later he would be able to claim her again, as slowly as he wanted. Now that she was his they would have time enough for him to fulfill his every dream, his every desire. But right now he needed to feel her; to take her with all his power and mark her forever as his own.
With a quick motion he grabbed the collar of her jacket and ripped it open in one swift jerk. Lyle heard her gasp of surprise, but he didn’t care about her reactions anymore. He couldn’t think coherently anymore, all he could do was obey his twisted desires.
He placed his hand on her breast, slowly sliding down to her stomach and the back up to her breast again. He ignored the way she stiffened in mute rejection. She was still wearing her powder-blue satin top and its smooth texture whispered a promise of even softer skin to his fevered mind. Lyle was so caught up in a haze of sensual pleasure and carnal thoughts that he never noticed when her eyes filled with surprise and concern. In spite of the concern, though, her face expressed her dawning hope.
"You are sure the report she assured us was genuine is a fake as well, then?" Raines asked a unseen person on the other end of the phone line.
After a slight pause he answered: "Understood , Sir. I agree with you completely. Time to end the charade once and for all." He put the phone down and turned to a figure who stood at the nearby door.
"Sam," he stated calmly, but with an undertone of savage pleasure, "I need 3 sweeper teams. Have them ready in 5 minutes."
"Let her go!" The voice was nearly unrecognizable, so filled was it with outrage.
Lyle froze as he heard the order from behind him. At the same moment he cursed himself for being such an idiot. He had forgotten to take his sister’s gun with him when they left the kitchen. Somehow that damn brat had managed to get rid of the cuffs and now he had the audacity to threaten him with the 9 mm!
It took a lot of effort, but he managed to keep a lid on his temper. The last thing he needed was to provoke a panicked reaction from the boy. Lyle turned as slowly as he could manage, his passion extinguished in an instant.
The boy was standing in the doorway, holding Parker’s handgun firmly and pointing the business end of it directly at his head.
"This is not a toy!" Lyle snapped, hoping to trigger reflexive obedience with the tone of authority in his voice. "Give me the weapon." He demanded.
The only response was a short but confident shake of the boy’s head.
Without taking his gaze away from determined young man Lyle grabbed a handful of his sister’s glossy hair and shook her head sharply. She pressed her lips together against a cry of pain, but Lyle continued with his ploy. The threat of violence had been so effective with his sister, after all, that it would be nothing short of a miracle if they didn’t work with the boy as well. He obviously idolized her.
"If you don’t hand the gun over to me right now, Miss Parker here will have to pay the consequences for your defiance. I’m sure you don’t want to be responsible for her being hurt, now do you?"
Uncertainty flickered in the boy’s eyes and it was all Lyle could do to control a savage grin of triumph. JJ looked over to his sister for reassurance, and that was all the opening Lyle needed. Unnoticed by either of the others he had managed to grab the corner of a pillow. With all his strength he threw it at the kid.
As the pillow hit JJ he lost the weapon and almost lost his balance as well. As soon as he saw the pistol hit the floor Lyle released his hold on his temper and sprang to his feet with an inarticulate roar of anger. When he got his hands on the boy he’d-----
"Run!" Parker shouted forcefully, triggering JJ’s instinct for self preservation. He turned on his heels and raced nimbly out of the room with Lyle directly behind him. At the last moment JJ was able to slam the door into his pursuer’s face.
Lyle’s howl of pain and mindless rage was all the promise JJ needed of what would happen to him if Lyle caught up with him. Fear gave his feet wings, and he fairly flew through the house and into the surrounding woods. In moments he had hidden himself in the thick underbrush with all of the cunning and agility that lurked in the heart of every child.
He lay utterly still, trying to control his gasping breaths and pounding heart, and tried to think of what he’d done wrong. He had to understand that before he could go back again to help Miss Parker. As terrified as he was he still didn’t even consider for a second that he should abandon her.
"It appears that she’s home." Broots said while he pointed at Miss Parker’s car in the front of the house.
"What do you think Sydney? Should we go closer?" He asked uncertainly.
Neither of them noticed the silver jeep pulling up on the other side of the road, almost hidden in the dark shadows of the nearby trees.
Sydney had just opened his mouth to respond to his companion when all hell broke loose around them.
With his mouth still open, Sydney watched the clone run out of the front door, round Miss Parker’s car, and dive into the shelter of the nearby bushes. In an instant the boy was completely concealed. Then, before he regained his composure, Lyle stormed through the same door, and even as far away as they were, Sydney could see him fuming. Neither Sydney or Broots had the slightest trouble hearing him shouting for the boy to return immediately.
Sydney slowly closed his mouth, thinking with amused detachment that the clone, even with his sheltered upbringing, wasn’t naive enough to respond to an adult ranting at him with a voice so full of rage.
With a hiss of pain Parker dislocated her thumb and slipped out of the cuffs, scraping off even more skin in the process and leaving a trail of blood on the bed.
‘Lyle really is an idiot!’ She thought as relief, anger and disgust warred for supremacy in her heart. In his fury he had grabbed his weapon, but forgotten about her gun lying on the floor. She swung her legs over the bed and bent over to pick up the 9 mm that was almost like an old friend to her by now. Then she froze, horror and disbelief swamping her as she stared at the floor by her gun.
Miss Parker couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her. Next to her weapon there was a snake.... a bright green Mamba.
‘Lyle!’ She groaned inwardly.
Fortunately for her, the snake was curled up and seemed to be asleep. She was glad that her bedroom was always cold. The thought of how close JJ had been standing to the reptile put a knot of second-hand fear in her stomach. For a split second she considered just to taking the chance and to grabbing the pistol, but the next second she realized that would make her even more of an idiot than her crazy brother. The last thing she needed now was a bite from a poisonous snake.
Growing frantic for JJ’s safety as the seconds ticked past, she looked around the room. Her eyes fell on the wicker laundry basket in one corner and a slight smile of relief dawned on her face. With a few quick strides she was there and snatched it up, only to reveal a Black Widow spider. The sick bastard claiming to be her brother was really trying to kill her, she realized. A shudder run down her spine as she tried to imagine what other lethal surprises might be lurking in her house for her to discover. No time for that! She forced her mind to focus on her current task. She had to get her weapon and stop Lyle from hurting JJ.
Miss Parker paid no further attention to the spider who was slowly making her way over the floor towards her wall. The insect crept determinedly on, lifting her long, hairy legs almost in slow motion....
As soon as she was close enough to see it, she thanked God that the snake was still coiled in sleep. She carefully positioned the basket over the deadly creature, and then scooped up her pistol, cursing the time she’d lost solving her venomous problem. Violent and painful methods of retribution raced through her mind as she followed after JJ and Lyle, praying that she wouldn’t encounter any more of Lyle’s unpleasant versions of a practical joke.
"I should have made sure that green jello was radioactive!" She muttered furiously to herself.
Jarod and the Major watched with astonishment and more than a little apprehension as JJ and Lyle played their obviously deadly serious game of hide and seek. Wondering what Lyle was doing here, Jarod was about to jump out of the car to help his brother when his father grabbed him by the arm and stopped him. The Major responded to Jarod’s inarticulate cry of protest by pointing to the rearview mirror. Three black Lincoln Towncars were heading their way at high speed. Jarod’s heart skipped a beat, but the cars passed them without seeming to notice either the jeep or its passengers.
With squealing brakes the black cars slid to a halt in front of Miss Parker’s house. At just the same moment Miss Parker came rushing out of the house, her ripped jacket still fluttering around her body, the handcuffs dangling form one wrist, and her gun held ready in the other hand.
"Lyle!" She shouted to her brother, ignoring the Centre vehicles in her anxiety for the boy. Lyle’s head snapped up from the bushes he was searching several yards away from her.
"Where is JJ?" She demanded, gun trained on her brother’s head. "I swear, if you’ve hurt him in any way I will shoot you again, and this time I will make sure you don’t come back from the dead!"
Lyle looked at her with nearly comical disbelief. All he could think about were the words he had said to her about a year ago. He had told her that she was beautiful when she was angry and she had replied that he had never seen her angry. They had both been right, he reflected almost humbly, now she was truly angry and she was the most magnificently beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her sapphire eyes blazed bright enough to overshadow the growing sunset in the west, her long, dancer’s legs were planted firmly on the ground, and her weapon remained trained on his head. Of course he knew that she would never shoot him, and he marveled at her fire and vibrancy. She looked so powerful, so full of life, so---so---Parker. He had seen DSA’s of their mother when she had been fighting save one of the Centre children, and Parker looked exactly like her, except that she was foolishly fighting against him, rather than with him like she should be.
Nobody could separate them, couldn’t she see that? The time they had spent inside of their mother together had formed a bond nothing could ever destroy. They belonged to each other, surely she could sense that even as he did. Even when he’d been growing up with the Bowmans he had known that she was out there, somewhere. Oh, he hadn’t known that she was his twin sister, but he knew that there was a companion waiting for him. Someone who would never leave him, never hurt him, who would be closer than the air he needed to survive. One day Raines would pay for taking her away from him, for keeping them so far apart for so long. He should have grown up with her, not Jarod. Nobody else could ever be good enough for touch her---nobody. Tonight they would be together again, just the two of them. He would take such good care of her...
“Oh, come on, Sis, you won’t shoot me. I’m your brother; I love you." Lyle informed her in tones of calm reason. Parker felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized that her brother truly was insane.
"Come here," he coaxed sweetly. "Give me your gun, and help me find the boy. You don’t need to ever worry about using a gun again; I’ll always be here to take care of you. I love you, Parker." He added again, madness and sincerity shining from his face.
Parker’s gun never wavered, although she was suddenly assailed with doubt. Could she do it? She wondered uneasily. Could she kill her own brother? A man who was too insane to see the lunacy of his inconsistent words and actions.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several car doors opening at once. A veritable wave of sweepers poured out of the black cars that had arrived seconds earlier.
Raines left the last car, and as soon as Lyle saw him he yelled over to him: "She has the clone! "
"I want her and the boy alive!" Raines rasped as loudly as he could manage with his damaged lungs.
"You have no choice now, Sis." Lyle changed from cajoling to threatening without a moment’s hesitation. "You and the brat are both going back to the Centre. And I promise you, neither of you will ever see the sun again. Come here, give me your weapon, and I can still save you. We belong together. The Triumvirate will surely allow me to keep you in my team where you can be supervised. I’ll be in charge, but we still can be together, and you’ll still have your freedom. You know that I’m the best chance you have. "
Lyle was elated when he saw a haunted look flicker across her face. He was now close enough to see the emotions on her face, two more steps and he could reach out for the gun, four more and he could touch her again. A triumphant grin blossomed as he saw that she lowered her weapon slightly. Finally! Finally, she had accepted the truth. Nothing could stop them now, and nobody would ever be able to come between them.
Lyle was planing their future together as a thought crossed his mind.
"Sorry about the baby. You’ll have to have it you know. I wish we didn’t have to force you to, but you know the Triumvirate will need some reason not to kill you." Parker wondered if he really knew that she had never had the abortion, or if his demented mind had just decided that she hadn’t because that was the most convenient to him.
"And you have to agree that it will undoubtedly be perfect Pretender material. But don’t worry, you’ll never have to go through that again; as soon as Jarod’s brat is born you’ll never see it again. Raines can have the little bastard and good riddance. I forgive you, you know. I know that you’ll never let Jarod touch you again." Lyle rambled disjointedly, never noticing how utterly senseless his words were.
Miss Parker felt like a animal surrounded by hunters; no escape, no way out, no recourse. There were Sweepers behind her and Lyle in front of her. Raines wanted her alive, and Lyle did too, but she suspected that wouldn’t be the case if she made a break for it. She was confident that he would shoot her rather than let her escape. In his sick fashion he undoubtedly felt that it would be the loving thing to do.
If she let them get her now, she would be lost. Never again would she have a chance to be free. They would bury her alive and nobody would ever find her again, even if she hadn’t already driven off everyone who truly cared about her. As things stood now, there wasn’t anyone left who would bother to search for her. She had no other choice but to get JJ and herself out of this now.
Her weapon came up again and pointed directly at her brother.
"Order the sweepers away," Parker demanded steadily. "Or I’ll shoot you. And believe me, Lyle, I will do it!”
‘Damn!’ She cursed inwardly at the obvious frailty of her threat. She had to come up with a better plan immediately, but she couldn’t seem to force her sluggish thoughts to cooperate. If ever she needed to have a plan of action, rather than being forced just to react, it was now. But her mind was a fuzzy and she saw no other options.
‘Poor Sydney,’ she thought regretfully. ‘To think that he once believed I might be a Pretender too!’ Well, if any more proof was needed to verify that his faith in her was in vain, this would certainly be it. She might be carrying the genes, but that was all. She wasn’t any different from any other normal person in any other way. She almost burst into a hysterical laughter as she realized how ridiculous her thoughts had become.
‘Maybe Lyle’s insanity is hereditary and I’m losing it as well.’ She thought with amusement.
"Shoot the clone! Fire at the bushes around here, he must be hiding somewhere near us!" Lyle yelled at the sweepers who were simply standing there, unsure of how to go on. Even Rains was standing quietly next to his car.
"NO!" Miss Parker shouted frantically, her finger squeezing the trigger of her weapon the same moment.
How long is a second? This second was an eternity, at least it was for her. She was sure she could see the bullet leaving her gun and make its way towards Lyle in slow motion. She felt like she was trapped in a Hollywood movie, one where time seemed to stand still. From the look of complete surprise on Lyle face, she was sure he too was in that slow motion scene. She was sure that he saw the bullet coming towards his head.
Mom, I just wanted her to love me like I love her.
The mental plea was forced into Miss Parker’s mind like the bullet into her brother’s, and she felt all of the loss, and confusion, and loneliness that went along with that thought in her brother’s mind. For a moment she swayed with the sheer agony she felt in that single sentence and she feared she was going to pass out from the pain. And then, for just a split second, she was looking into a dark hole, and the horror of being sucked into it was nearly enough to make her lose her mind. She was out of her body, no longer connected to her world, and drifting away from every rational thought she had ever had.
The thud when Lyle’s dead body hit the ground pushed her back into herself and the pain was, if possible, even greater. Her body and her mind were reeling with shock. She couldn’t believe that she’d done it, that she had actually pulled the trigger.
‘You killed your brother!’ A voice was screaming inside her head. Her body was frozen in the same position it had been in when she had fired her gun; her arm was still outstretched, her finger still pulling against the trigger.
‘Good think I had it set to fire single shots rather than continuous fire.’ She thought incongruously.
She didn’t even notice that every one of the Sweepers had trained their weapon at her, just waiting for Raines to give the order to fire. Every Sweeper but one, that is.
The frozen tableau was shattered by the sudden sound of a car engine. The Towncar nearest the scene howled as its motor was mercilessly revved up. Before anybody could react, the car had traversed the distance to Miss Parker’s side and was now partially shielding her from the trigger happy Sweepers. The driver’s door flew open and Sam leaped out of the car.
"Miss Parker, get into the car!" Sam bellowed, releasing her from her paralysis. She hesitated for an instant, then she ducked and raced to the side of the car. She opened the front passenger door, but she didn’t get in. Instead she turned, her eyes searching the foliage around her.
"JJ come here!" She called, desperation clear in her voice while she prayed the boy would be close enough to make it.
She saw the small figure crawling out of a nearby bush with a warm rush of relief and she silently thanked God that the boy hadn’t hidden on the other side of the drive. He quickly ran over to her and dove under her arm into the car. Parker followed him closely, almost landing on top of him in her haste, and slammed the door shut even as Sam accelerated out of her drive in a shower of gravel.
At the same time, Sam took out his own weapon and aimed it at the nearest Lincoln as they passed it. His shot blew out the front tire, and bought them a little time.
"Shoot that damn traitor!" Raines howled. "You morons! What are you waiting for?" He bellowed in a surprisingly strong voice at the last sweeper team with a working car.
"Get back to your car and follow them! Remember, I want them alive if at all possible." He turned his attention to the other Sweepers, ignoring the bustle his words had triggered in the last group. "Get a Cleaner team down here on the double. Have them take care of this mess and then all of you return to the Centre. We’ll discuss this farce when I get back!" With that final threat Raines took his seat in the waiting Towncar and was rasping out orders and reminders as they sped off in pursuit of the fleeing trio.
Major Charles and Jarod each drew in a long breath at the same moment. They had almost forgotten to breathe as they watched the whole scene unfolding in front of Parker’s house. They were still in shock from those final explosive moments of the confrontation between Lyle and Parker.
Before he could voice the question on his mind, Jarod caught a flicker of movement in front of Parker’s house out of the corner of his eye and turned to see the last Towncar speeding after Parker, Sam and the boy.
"No!" Jarod gasped, determined not to fail Miss Parker a second time. Before his father could say anything he had started their car and was speeding after the other two.
As the silver Jeep passed Sydney and Broots both men had a clear view into the interior of the vehicle. They recognized the father and son and both men groaned in unison.
"Syd, could you please pinch me? I think, no, I hope I’m dreaming!" Broots gasped.
‘Damn piece of crap!’ She thought, looking over her shoulder to the car she stolen at Donoterase. It was just barely visible in the distance. ‘You’d think a multi-national corporation full of amoral, greedy crooks would at least invest a little in their mechanics. Cheap bastards!’
Her mood lifted when she finally topped the gentle hill she’d been climbing and saw a farm in the valley below her.
"A phone!" She breathed joyfully. "And a bathroom!"
With the hope of relief in sight Emily’s mood perked right up and she started down the other side of the hill with a spring in her step.
Sydney and Broots were waiting for the Cleaners to leave Parker’s house before they went down there to look the place over for clues. Already three of the cleaners had been carried out of the house with various injuries, one had been placed in the Cleaner van, face covered with a handkerchief, so they knew he was dead, and the other two had been whisked off in the van that doubled as a Centre ambulance for non-critical injuries. The two men were grateful for the first time that the Centre had Cleaners as they watched Parker’s house being slowly made safe for humans.
"Just the same," Sydney told Broots soberly. "We’d better be careful when we do go in. Even Cleaners can miss things."
Broots wanted to ask Sydney if it was really necessary to search Parker’s house, especially after he saw a man walk out the front door with a writhing green snake in his hand, but the ringing of Sydney’s cell phone stopped him.
"Jarod?" He asked instead of his usual greeting.
"Um," the female on the other end answered uncertainly. "Is this Sydney?"
"Yes. May I help you?" He wondered who she was, he knew he’d never heard her voice before.
"Miss Parker slipped me your phone number earlier. I tried her number, but no one answered."
"Who is this?"
"Jarod’s sister; Emily."
"Good Lord!" Broots head jerked over to look apprehensively at Sydney. Sydney waved a dismissive hand and hoped Broots would realize that nothing was seriously wrong. "Are you still at Donoterase?"
"I don’t think I should answer that question." Emily said warily. "I’m not sure why Miss Parker gave me your number."
"Because I’m a friend of hers." Sydney answered with a growing smile. "She apparently thought that I would help you if you needed it and she wasn’t available."
"Okay." Emily responded noncommittally, her thoughts racing as she tried to decide whether or not to trust him. Sydney knew better than to press her and it was his patience, and the fact that he obviously knew her long lost brother, that decided her in the end.
"I’m in northern Connecticut. At a farm in a small town called Woodbury. Think you can help me? The car I used to escape went kaput."
Sydney’s smile grew deeper as he nodded. Parker still trusted him, or she wouldn’t have given Emily his number. The thought of beginning to make amends to her eased some of the heavy load of sorrow that had weighed him down for the past week.
"We’ll head out immediately. Why don’t you call this number again in two hours with directions. We should be close by then." He told her, motioning for Broots to wait when he would have asked Sydney what was going on. After another satisfied nod he folded the phone shut and turned to Broots.
"That was Jarod’s sister. Apparently she’s escaped Donoterase and Parker had given her a few emergency numbers just in case."
"You aren’t planning to take her home with you, are you?" Broots asked worriedly. "If the Centre find out you didn’t turn her in they’ll kill you!"
"No, Broots, I won’t be taking her home with me." Sydney assured Broots, much to the younger man’s relief. "You’ll be taking her home with you."
Broots nearly jumped through the roof as the meaning of Sydney’s words penetrated.
"What!? I can’t---- you can’t---- They’ll kill me !" He finally squeaked.
"They’ll never know, Broots, now let’s run through Parker’s house and head out for Connecticut."
"But, why ME?" Broots protested, looking like he was ready to cry.
"Because you have an extra bedroom. I’ve only got the one." Sydney answered complacently. "Now get going."
"Son, are you sure you know what you’re doing?" Major Charles clung to the crash bars of the jeep as Jarod sped after the black Towncar.
"Get your gun out, Dad." Jarod said distractedly, he didn’t seem to have heard his father. "We’ve got to stop that car."
The Major sighed and pulled out his handgun.
"Son, we’ve got to hook you up with that young lady before you kill me!" He muttered, taking careful aim at the car in front of him. It took half a dozen shots, but he finally blew out the tire. He thoroughly enjoyed the look on Raines face when he gave the man a cheery wave as they roared past.
"Thanks, Dad." Jarod told his father, his eyes still fixed on the final Towncar as it continued to gain distance from them. Still, they chased it for another two hours before Major Charles called a halt.
"It’s pitch black tonight son, we can’t see the car in the dark, and we’re low on gas. Time to cut our losses. Maybe your friend at the Centre will be able to give us a clue of where to start looking tomorrow." He told his son gently.
Jarod stared unseeingly out the windshield, his face set in lines of worry, regret, and fatigue.
"I’ve got to find her, Dad." He said flatly. "I’ve got to!"
"We will, Jarod, tomorrow." He promised him.
"Tomorrow." Jarod sighed, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. "Tomorrow never comes, you know. I’ve already waited a thousand tomorrows."
"We’ll find her, son, I swear." With that the Major bullied his son out from behind the wheel and began looking for a motel for the night.
JJ was beginning to be very worried. Miss Parker wouldn’t talk to him, she just kept shaking and crying and she said over and over again; "I killed him! Momma, I’m sorry, I killed him."
"Sir?" JJ looked up at the large man who’d rescued them. "We gotta do something for her."
"Let her cry." Sam told the boy, not unkindly. "As soon as we’re far enough away from our pursuers I’ll get her to a doctor."
"Please hurry." JJ asked him urgently. "It’s not good for her to be so upset. She’s going to have a baby."
Sam sucked in a lungfull of air and shot a quick, sideways look at the woman he’d just killed his career for. She didn’t look pregnant, but it wasn’t like her to be so distraught either.
"Next hospital, kid." He promised, worry coiling in his gut like a snake.
Parker felt their worry from far away. It was almost like there was a glass wall between her and them. Her mind was completely taken up with the memory of Lyle’s last cry. He’d been so hurt, so surprised, somehow his mental cry had made her think of JJ needing her.
‘Why didn’t I try to make a relationship with him?’ She wondered remorsefully. ‘Maybe if I’d tried things could have been different.’
"I think she’s in shock." She heard JJ tell Sam, and felt his warm little hand holding her cold wrist. She wanted to reassure him that she’d be okay, to give him a smile or a hug or something to ease his palpable worry, but it was just too hard to form words.
"Please, Miss Parker, please don’t be so upset." He pleaded earnestly. "I know he was your brother and everything, but there wasn’t anything else you could have done. He would have hurt you, I know he would have hurt you."
Parker turned her head and looked at the boy, her eyes still faintly dazed looking, as shivers racked her body.
"I know, JJ, I know." She breathed, trying to see him through the tears she couldn’t stop.
"This is all my fault." He berated himself. "If I’d stayed with the Major and Jarod----"
"No, JJ, not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong." She cut him off, patting his knee feebly. The words were hard for her to get out; needing to be chiseled out, like chips from granite. "I shot him, not you."
With that, her attention turned inward again and she wondered if she would ever feel warm again.
"Hurry, Sam." She heard JJ tell her old friend. "She could miscarry from all of this, and that would be too much for her."
‘Momma!’ She screamed in her mind, pain and guilt pushing her dangerously near the edge. ‘Momma, why aren’t you here? I need you, please Momma, I need you." But, as always, there was no answer to her pleas. Momma was with Lyle----maybe he would be happy now…
In the basement of St. Anne’s Cathedral in downtown New York City a woman paused in the act of comforting a crying child, his face bruised from a drunken father’s rage. Her hair was snow white and would have fallen to her waist if it hadn’t been gathered into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her face was surprisingly unlined, though, and her soft blue eyes were clear and contained a wealth of strength. Every day she dealt with the uglier side of life here in St. Anne’s shelter for victims of domestic violence. She knew pain, in all of its various guises, but her eyes were peaceful and serene, bringing comfort to the battered women and children who turned to her for help.
Just now, though, her eyes were dark and troubled. Earlier today she’d felt a wave of unease, though she had no idea why. Now, she felt a nagging sense of restlessness. Someone needed her, she could feel that, as she so often did, but who? And more importantly, why?
He was sitting there with nearly closed eyes, gaze focused on a framed picture he held in is hands. It was the only thing he had taken from Miss Parker house . A picture of Catherine Parker with her baby girl. Both are smiling happily at the unseen photographer.
The way Sydney was starring at the picture scared the hell out of Broots. The only interruption to his absorption in the picture had been a short phone conversation with Emily just a little while ago when she had given them further information how to find her..
It was nearly time for the last turn... ah yes there was the road that would lead them directly to the farm. Moments after he’d started down it Broots silently wondered who would dared to call this rutted, gravel topped track a road, and prayed inaudibly that his car would survive this unscathed.
Once again Broots shot a quick look at the other man before he returned his attention to making his slow way up the rough road. Sydney seemed totally unaware of the bumpy journey. His heavy heart lightened when Broots saw the distant light from the farm, maybe now Sydney would pull out of this dark introspection. Broots sympathized with his friend’s feelings of sorrow at letting down Miss Parker; he knew Sydney was more of a father to her than Mr. Parker, but he also knew that regrets weren’t going to do anyone any good. He pulled the car up in front of the house with a feeling of relief, mixed with renewed apprehension about their course of action.
"Syd," he tried a last time to change the older man’s mind. "Are you sure that Jarod’s sister really should to stay at my place? " His eyes pleaded with Sydney to tell him ‘No’. He wanted to hear that Sydney had changed his mind and was going to put the girl up in a motel somewhere.
Instead, Sydney looked up from the picture and gave him a reassuring smile, then he gave Broots’ shoulder a quick pat, and left the car.
With a big sigh Broots followed him.
"I want her alive!" He was walking up and down the row of Sweepers, his oxygen tank squeaking behind. "And the Clone as well." He added.
After he reached the desk he studied every sweeper carefully… "I just hope for your own good that you all know that your first loyalty belongs to the Centre" he threatened and with this he dismissed the men.
After the last sweeper has left the office he turned over to the phone on the desk.
"I assure you, Sir. We will find her soon. She has no money and no place to hide."
"What about Sydney and Broots?" A deep male voice came cracking over the speaker.
"Don’t worry about them; they are under control. Sydney is just a old powerless man. We took everything from him long ago. As for Broots he has a daughter, he will not do anything stupid. I’ve already arranged for her to be picked up from school tomorrow. " Raines assured him.
"Agreed! What about the tests?" The voice came up again.
"Everything is ready, we can start as soon as we have them. There is a jet ready to bring the clone to you. The woman will be tested and go to Mexico a day later. Nobody will ever find them again. I only hope she is better than her mother was, but even if she is not we will get a new Pretender from her. If our calculations are right, the IQ of this child will be higher than that of every other subject we’ve had so far. "
"I hope you are right. She has already cost the Centre a lot of money; she’s had more time than anybody else. Not using her for the breeding or cloning project was a waste of valuable time. You tested her more than once after Catherine was finally out of the way and always with negative results. We should have reassigned her long ago." The voice sounded annoyed now.
"We had to be careful in her case, to push too hard could have destroyed everything. We had hoped her hunt for Jarod would trigger something. I kept her under close observation at all the times. You know what happened when we tried to hurry matters; Lyle was a total failure. The only benefit he ever brought us was to free us from that man."
"True. You may go ahead with your plans, but keep it in mind that I will not tolerate any failure. This matter is far too important for any mistakes; we need it to work. You know yourself that the Pagode is not far behind us in this. Whoever succeeds first will have the lock on the market for the next several years. Don’t fail us!" With this the connection was terminated.
Unnoticed by anybody, Angelo stopped recording their meeting and made his way back to his hiding place.
"Mr. Jamison? " a friendly voice asked.
Before Sam could react, JJ pushed past him.
"How is she? " He asked, worried.
The doctor smiled down at the boy
"Don’t worry, your mother is fine. She is sleeping now, we gave her something to calm her down. Why don’t you go over and keep her company? But please be quiet and don’t wake her up. She’s just down the hall in room 214." The man pointed out the direction.
Without further hesitation JJ hurried toward the room. Sam started to follow him, but he was restrained by a firm hand on his arm.
"Mr. Jamison, I need to talk with you alone." The doctor stated.
"She is not fine, right? What is it?" The former sweeper asked, concern clearly written on his face.
"I am sorry, sir. Your wife is in a state of shock. We’ve sedated her, but I am concerned about the child. She started spotting and having contractions while I was examining her. We’ve given her steroids to halt the contractions, but if she doesn’t relax, and stay relaxed, she will lose this baby. I’m very sorry.... " the doctor trailed off.
"That’s not all, is it?" Sam pushed further.
"Unfortunately not. A miscarriage is always traumatic, particularly emotionally. In your wife’s current weakened state... There’s a significantly greater risk that we would lose her as well. You should go to her now as well. She needs her family now more than ever." With this the doctor turned and left.
With a resigned growl the Major swung his legs out of the bed and padded over to the adjoining room. He stood in the door frame and watched his son pacing through the room like a caged animal.
"Jarod, could you at least lay down and try to rest a bit?" The Major sighed.
"Can’t sleep." came the muffled response from the window.
"I know. Me neither." The older man replied. "Especially not when I’ve listened you pacing for hours now. There’s nothing you can do at the moment and you’re definitely going to be no help to her if you wear yourself out this way. "
"Dad, I let her down. All these years I’ve been trying to convince her trust me. I never believed in the image she displayed for the Centre. I pushed her to her limit and sometimes even further. Then, the first time she needed my trust I failed her.
"The last time I talked with Sydney----he was sure she had sold her soul as well. Do you know what this means? She was alone. Completely alone; nobody to turn to, nobody to trust. I know that feeling. The only person who had faith in her was JJ. He only met her once and only for a few minutes, but he knew her better than I did after all our years together."
Jarod stopped glanced over towards his father, unshed tears glittering in his eyes, and then stared out into the darkness again.
Still, the manners her mother had impressed on her as a child held, and she remained patiently in her seat when the knock sounded at the kitchen door. She listened to the deep voices of Mr. Baker and one of the newcomers, and smiled at the men he finally moved back and allowed into the kitchen with far more warmth than she would have under other circumstances.
Sydney was a tall man with a deeply lined face. Her first impression of him was that he had a lifetime of regrets and sorrow. Her second was that he was a very stable, a very comforting man. She resisted the urge to throw herself into his arms, like a little girl greeting her father after a long trip, with an exercise of will that seemed far too hard. She had to remind herself that he still worked for the very people she was running from.
Broots was a smaller man, only topping her by a few inches, with a nearly bald head and a gentle, perpetually bewildered expression. Emily wanted to hug him too, and then she wanted to comfort him, to see if she could erase that look of apprehension. It was hard for her to believe he worked for the Centre, especially not when her first instincts were to try and ease his fears, rather than to actually fear him.
Sydney returned her smile with fatherly benevolence and a strange air of gratitude, adding to Emily’s contradictory impressions of the two men. She was careful to keep her face calm and her manner confident, however. Mother had always taught her; never show fear, never show doubt, and never, ever let them see that you don’t know what to do next. People, her mother had explained, rarely look past the obvious. If you show them what they want to see, then that is what they will see.
So Emily held her smile and rose to shake Sydney’s proffered hand and then Broots’, although she smiled just a little more warmly at the younger man, flustering him further. She realized, with a touch of impish humor, that she would have to be careful what she said and did around the younger man; he was the type who was easily agitated.
"I hate to rush you, Emily," Sydney had said as soon as the social niceties were over. "But we really must leave right away. It was kind of you two to take her in like this, thank you." He added to the plump couple. Mr. Baker flushed a little and insisted it was nothing, while beaming with pleasure. Mrs. Baker twittered and pressed a package of homemade cinnamon rolls into Emily’s hands.
"Thank you so much for your help." Emily told the couple quietly, but sincerely, as she unobtrusively urged Sydney and Broots out of the kitchen.
Finally they were out, in the car, and creeping down the long, gravel driveway towards the highway. Sydney had ended up in the back and Emily in the front with Broots, which pleased all of them for various reasons. Emily liked Broots on sight and felt comfortable with him. Broots thought Emily was stunning and was now glad that Sydney had insisted that she stay with him and Debbie. Sydney wanted the privacy of the back seat to brood.
"Wha’ happened?" Far sooner than she should have, Miss Parker stirred in her hospital bed and began making demands. She knew instantly that she was in a hospital. By now she was so familiar with the sounds and smells of a hospital that she’d known were she was while she was still asleep.
"The doctor had to sedate you-----dear." Sam added the endearment as an afterthought, realizing that the staff would expect to hear some loving words between them.
"Dear?" Parker’s face showed confusion and then cleared at the pointed look Sam shot towards the woman taking her vitals. "Uh, when can I get out of here?" She asked quickly, trying to adjust to her newfound relationship.
"The doctor wants to keep you for 48 hours." Sam answered quietly.
"48 hours?!" Parker exclaimed, causing the nurse to turn towards Sam and shake her head admonishingly.
"Hon’," Sam said awkwardly, obviously not liking these expressions of affection. "You started to miscarry when we got you here. They were able to stop it, for now, but it’s still really iffy. You need total rest and quiet."
"Sam." Parker said in an ominously quiet tone, although she spread her hand protectively over her barely curving belly. "If I stay here for 48 hours you know that I won’t rest, and it certainly won’t stay quiet for long either, will it?" The nurse had left so Parker went on, although she kept her voice down.
"You know the Centre can’t be more than a few steps behind us."
"Parker, is it Jarod’s?" Sam ignored her comments and cut to the heart of the matter. Parker looked down and bit her lip.
"Yes." She admitted in a near whisper. "So you know why the Centre wants it so badly."
Her head was still lowered so she missed Sam’s wince at her admission that the child was Jarod’s. He and Jarod weren’t on the best of terms, particularly not after Jarod’s most recent captivity at the Centre.
"Okay. I know of a place we can go to that the Centre shouldn’t be able to trace. When we get there, though, you will go to bed and stay there until there’s no further risk of miscarriage---do you understand?" Sam told her firmly. Parker looked down at her belly, still covered protectively by the one hand.
"I promise." She told Sam sincerely. "I want this baby---I won’t risk it."
"Okay." Sam agreed reluctantly with her need to leave. She was right, the Centre wouldn’t be far behind. "I’ll go collect the boy from the cafeteria while you get dressed. Take it easy, okay?"
"Sure, Sam." Parker promised absently. Her eyes were dark and troubled as her thoughts returned to Lyle and the reason she’d been so upset. Sam’s mention of JJ had brought it all back to the front of her mind---the standoff, her finger squeezing the trigger, Lyle’s final anguished thoughts. But the baby was more important, and she pulled her thoughts away from the memories with an effort. Later she would grieve, now, she had a new life to protect.
Sam knew they were deliberately stalling when the nurses refused to tell him where to go to pay the bill. Parker shifted restlessly in her wheelchair, she hated to sit in them, and JJ patted her hand comfortingly. Everyone looked relieved when the doctor came striding up, rebuking Sam before he’d even reached the little group.
"Didn’t you hear what I told you? Do you want her to miscarry?" He demanded furiously.
"Doctor Snider, I didn’t get the chance to explain to you earlier," Sam began smoothly, having worked out his story while collecting the boy. "But my wife has a phobia about hospitals. She was traumatized as a child, you know, when her parents died."
Parker tried to turn her glare into a convincing look of anxiety.
"It would be worse for her to stay here than it would for me to take her to our cabin in Niagara. Trust me, it would be much worse." He added with heartfelt sincerity.
"Mrs. Jamison," The doctor turned to her beseechingly. "Do you understand the risk you’re taking?"
"I understand perfectly, Doctor. As my husband has said, it is truly the lesser risk. I promise to stay calm and take it easy. If you’ll give me prescriptions for whatever medication you think I should be taking and a list of instructions to follow, I promise to follow them all faithfully." Parker said with a convincing tremble in her voice. She allowed her eyes to dart around a little wildly too. Really, it wasn’t that hard to act phobic, what with the level of paranoia she was now experiencing.
"You realize I can’t approve your discharge." He tried sternly.
"I’ve discharged myself AMA before." Parker informed him forcefully.
"Park---uh, my wife never has been good at taking doctor’s advice." Sam added seriously.
“Okay, fill out the paperwork." The doctor sighed, giving in. "Make sure to note her discharge is against medical advice."
Once they were in the Subaru that Sam had traded the Towncar for Parker’s optimistic facade dropped and tears filled her eyes again. They trailed quietly down her face as the car cut through the darkness. She wasn’t getting agitated, Sam noted worriedly, but she looked very lost and alone sitting in the passenger seat. Neither of them noticed JJ in the back seat pull out Jarod’s cell phone and study it contemplatively.
Major Charles sighed again as he pulled the quilt over his son’s sleeping form. It had taken an hour, and a cup of hot, sweet tea with a ground up Demerol, but he’d finally gotten him to sleep. Any guilt he might have felt over drugging his son disappeared when he looked at his haggard face and sunken eyes. Jarod had been running on nerves for too long, and desperately needed the sleep he had forced on him.
Now, however, the Major was awake, and unlikely to drift off again soon. He went into the living room, turned the radio on quietly, and fed the fire while he brooded. His thoughts, as was usual when he had a few quiet moments, turned to the family he’d lost so many years ago. Margaret, his wife, how was she? Did she miss him, like he missed her? Was she even alive? Jarod had told him that Emily was now separated from her too. And Emily, did she even remember her father? Was she okay? At least he knew JJ was all right. Miss Parker would take care of the boy, he knew that and was grateful.
"God," he prayed at last, watching the dawn paint the horizon pink and red. "Bring us all together again, that’s all I ask. Let us be a family-----please."
Sydney started awake when the cell phone by his bed rang in the early dawn hours.
"Jarod?" He asked instantly.
"N-no----" The young voice was so like Jarod as a teen that Sydney had to swallow down a lump in his throat.
"Hello," he said gently, wanting the boy to talk to him. "Can I help you?"
"This is the clone. I go by JJ now." The boy answered uncertainly.
"I know who you are, JJ." Sydney infused as much warmth and welcome in his voice as he could. "I’m so glad you called."
"You are?" The boy was frankly amazed. "Why?"
"Because I liked you very much when I met you."
"But I’m not----him."
"No, JJ, you aren’t. You are your own person." Sydney encouraged him. "And I like that person."
"You do?"
"Very much." Sydney affirmed. "Did you need something? Is there anything I can do for you?"
"It’s Miss Parker." JJ sniffed forlornly. "She left the hospital, even though the doctor said she shouldn’t. He said she could lose the baby, especially if she doesn’t stay calm, but all she did on the way here was cry. She cried herself to sleep. I don’t know what to do for her."
There was silence on the other end as Sydney struggled to the comprehend the stunning information that JJ had innocently thrown at him.
"Miss Parker is pregnant?" Even as he said it, Sydney realized that he should have known. Parker was too much her mother’s daughter to willingly have an abortion.
"Yes, but she got really upset when she killed Lyle. She kept crying and shaking and we took her to the hospital. The doctor said she started to miscarry. He said she couldn’t get upset anymore. But she just cried and cried on the way here. Is she going to die?" JJ didn’t sound in the least like a child prodigy at the moment. He sounded like any other young man who was terrified someone he loved was going to leave him.
"No, JJ." Sydney reassured him, while wondering if he was right. "You and Sam are there to take care of her, aren’t you? She needed to cry, she’s had a very hard time lately, but you and Sam will make her feel better just by caring, I’m sure. Does Sam know that you’re talking to me?"
"No, he’s asleep. I didn’t know if he’d let me call you if I asked, so I waited."
"Okay, JJ, this is what I want you to do. When Parker wakes up, if she looks like she’s going to keep on crying, or get upset, I want you to call me again and let me talk to her. Even if she seems okay when she wakes up, I want you to ask Sam to call me and talk to me, can you do that for me?"
"Yes." JJ told him, his voice stronger and more confident now that he had an idea of what to do.
"Good boy." Sydney approved warmly. "Now, I want you to get some rest. You won’t be able to watch over Miss Parker tomorrow---well, today----if you don’t get some sleep yourself, okay?"
"Yes, Sydney." JJ answered, once again reminding him of young Jarod. "Thank you." He added softly before he disconnected the phone. Sydney closed his own phone and sighed as he lay back down. It seemed that he had more to make amends for now. He’d not only let Miss Parker down by not being there for her, he’d also misjudged her. The lines of sorrow on his face deepened as he stared thoughtfully at his ceiling and waited for daylight.
"Sister Mary Claire?"
In the shelter in St. Anne’s basement the white haired woman approached one of the nuns in the office.
"Yes, Kahtie?" Mary Claire answered serenely.
"I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you for a while. Something has come up." The younger woman told the older regretfully.
"But what?" The older woman’s serenity shattered in an instant. In all the time Kahtie had been with them she’d shown no signs of having any family or friends outside of those she’d made in the shelter.
“I’m not sure. It’s a feeling, Sister. Much like the feeling that brought me here in the first place. I have to follow it and see where it leads me. Someone needs me. She needs me very badly. That’s all I know."
"Well, my dear, you will be sorely missed here." Mary Claire assured her sincerely. "But if the Lord is calling you to another task we can’t stand in His way. I’ve seen His work in your life before."
"Thank you, Sister, for understanding. I will return if I can." With that Kahtie turned and left the room, her blue eyes troubled and sad. She’d been at St. Anne’s for many years now, and it was hard to leave the security of its walls. She knew she had to follow her feeling of unease, though. She just wished she knew where it was leading her.
On her bus trip through the night she had barely slept; every time she had closed her eyes she heard a little girl crying for her Mom, somehow familiar, but mixed with a the sound of an adult man doing the same. She knew that the cries were from real people. Whether they’d called out at the moment she felt them, or some time in the past, or maybe even the future, was unclear, but most of her hunches were extremely vague anyway, and she’d learned to live with uncertainty.
The first rays of the sun created little rainbows over the water and one magnificent one over the main cataract. The sound of the water was deafening and the flow of countless gallons of water mesmerizing. Kahtie decided that she like this place. The turbulent water of the river was as chaotic and troubled as her feelings.
The sound of laughing people startled her, she turned and saw a young couple playing. The man was chasing the woman around one of the potted trees decorating the walkway. She could feel their happiness; she could sense her love. She remembered that Niagara Falls is a popular spot for honeymoons, but she couldn’t remember how she had learned that. Like much of her past it was clouded and full of impenetrable shadows.
Kahtie tried to remember when she had been that happy; she had the feeling once she had known such joy, but she could not remember when or why. With a heavy sigh she walked away from the rushing water and began strolling down the promenade, watching the growing crowd of people and window shopping in the little shops that lined the way.
This was where she needed to be; she wasn’t feeling pulled to go anywhere else, but she had no idea why she was here. As far as she knew, she’d never been to this place before. Then again, as far as she knew she’d never been to New York City before she went there and found St. Anne’s. As she had before, she would simply wait now, and sooner or later her premonition of need would become clear.
"Who are you?"
With a start Emily shot up in her bed and starred into a pair of curious eyes. Frantically she tried to recall where she was. The memories of the last days came back to her and with a groan she dropped back into the bed.
"Who are you?" The girl demanded again, a bit more forcefully this time.
Emily smiled at her.
"My name is Emily, and you must be Debbie." She replied patiently.
The girl next to her bed nodded.
"What are you doing here and why are you wearing my Dad’s pajamas?" The girl wanted to know next.
‘Kids!’ Emily thought, realizing that she wasn’t going to get to go back to sleep. The young woman sat up in her bed again and patted the bed next to her, inviting Debbie to have a seat.
After Debbie had complied Emily tried to come up with an explanation that would satisfy the child, but not open them up to discovery by an innocent slip of the tongue on Debbie’s part. In the end she decided to stay as close to the truth as possible.
"Your Dad was nice enough to offer me a place to sleep last night; maybe even for a few days. I had a bit trouble and your Dad’s colleague Miss Parker helped me, but she had some troubles of her own to take care of, and couldn’t keep helping me. Your Dad decided to help me then, so I came to your place. You don’t mind that, do you?" Emily asked.
"Is she OK?" Debbie asked.
"OK? Who?" Emily had the feeling she had lost a important part of their conversation.
Miss Parker!" Debbie explained with the exasperation of an adult dealing with a particularly stupid child. Emily restrained an amused smile with some difficulty.
"You know her?" Emily asked her, maybe this was her chance to learn more about the woman. She was still not sure what to think about Miss Parker; she was a strange combination of contradictions, but the girl seemed to like her.
"Yes I know her. I even lived with her for a few days when my father was out of town." Debbie declared proudly. "So is she OK? "
"I think so. The last time I saw her she seemed perfectly fine. Why don’t you get down and go wait for me in the kitchen. I’ll get dressed and we can have breakfast and chat some more, how does that sound?"
Debbie cocked her head and decided she liked the woman; she seemed to be really nice. She hopped down from the bed ad walked towards the door, but before she left the room she turned and looked at the woman in the bed.
"I think the pajamas look much nicer on you than on Daddy." She volunteered with a broad grin and then she hurried out of the room.
Emily looked down on the bright red garment with white teddy bears. It was so garish it made her eyes hurt. Groaning Emily leaned again back onto the pillow and pulled the covers over her face.
"Do you have a coffee for me as well?" Jarod asked his father as he approached him from behind. "I could really use one. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry; almost as if somebody slipped a sedative into my tea last night…" he glared at his father suspiciously..
"You needed the sleep badly." Major Charles defended himself unrepentantly. "I know how you feel, but if you want to find Angelina, you need to think straight. You can’t do that if you’re sleep deprived, now can you?"
"You know Parker’s first name?" Jarod looked so surprised that his father paused in the act of handing him a cup of coffee and grinned.
"Sure I do. I’ve known her longer than you have. The first time I saw her she was about 5 years old. She was with her mother; a happy little girl. I asked her what her name was, and she told me. Her mother smiled and told me that she only tells her first name people she really likes." The Major’s grin turned into a reminiscent smile.
"I had no idea you knew her." Jarod said, still surprised.
"I hadn’t heard anything about her for many years; not after her mother..." He trailed off with a deep sigh. "The last time I saw her was shortly before you arranged to trade me for her father."
"She came into my room---well, cell really." He continued at Jarod’s look of avid curiosity. "She had a gun in her hand-----my gun. She was all set to shoot me, thinking I was the one who killed her mother. It’s so ironic, really----" His voice faded but he didn’t finish that thought.
"Anyway, I was stunned by how much she looked like her mother, it was like a look into the past. She has the same bright blue eyes that she had as a little girl, but there’s no happiness inside them anymore."
"I want to bring the happiness back to her, " Jarod sighed, "but I’m afraid that it might be too late. You know, I have a feeling that she is moving further away from me with every passing minute. That’s why I need to find---I need...." he trailed off.
Suddenly an idea struck him. He got up and took the laptop from his room, then he opened it, and connected to the Internet to check his mail. As he had hoped, there was mail waiting. He silently send a thank you to Angelo.
Jarod started the video file while his father watched over his shoulder. Astonished they watched the scene with Raines in his office. When the recording had finished they sat in thought, still staring at the blank screen for several moments. Finally the Major turned to his son.
"Jarod, what do you know about this? What is a red file, why is she in one, and what the hell is the Pagode?"
"The red files are the Centre’s records of their Pretender Project subjects. I knew she was a red file child, but..." Frowning fiercely, Jarod tried to make sense out of what they had just seen. She wasn’t a Pretender, he was sure----or was she? No impossible.
"As for the Pagode----I don’t know much about it, but what little I do know is not good. Believe me it isn’t a bit better than the Centre; to be honest I am not sure which organization is worse. "
"Son, I have a bad feeling about this whole thing. We need to find Angelina, and it had better be soon. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if they got to her first.." he trailed off cursing under his breath.
Jarod buried his head in his hands and raked his fingers through his hair. Things just kept going from bad to worse and he had an awful premonition that they hadn’t seen the end of their disasters yet.
"Jarod, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you to find her first. It’s the least I can do since she’s carrying my first grandchild." Charles promised his harried son.
Jarod winced at his father’s last sentence. He didn’t need a reminder that she carried his child; he already felt like an idiot. After all this time he had finally had her and he stupidly let her go. Instead of holding her close, he had called her after his escape and told her that they were both still alone. He had tricked her into a shipping container, with her crazy brother, no less, and after he’d uncovered the file about her abortion he had accused her, and pushed her away. He never even gave her a chance to explain. May God forgive him, but he had actually wanted to slap her.
"Why don’t you call Sydney? He helped you with JJ." Deciding that Jarod had wallowed in guilt and remorse long enough, the Major interrupted his thoughts with a positive suggestion.
"This is Sydney."
"Sydney, this is Sam." The other man responded instantly..
"How is Miss Parker? I hoped she would want to speak to me. " Sydney replied sadly.
He had hoped so much she would give him an opportunity to talk with her.
"I’m sorry, but she can’t talk to you right now. We gave her another sedative about an hour ago. I don’t dare give her another today for fear of harming the baby, but I’m worried about what will happen when she wakes up. She’s been sleeping a lot----when she isn’t crying, that is." Sam explained.
"It’s that bad?" Concern was clearly evident in Sydney’s voice.
"I am not a doctor." Sam answered slowly. "But to be honest I think it will be a miracle if she carries this baby to term."
Kahtie froze in front of the store selling romantic gifts. It was time, something big was about to happen. For the first time since she’d started this trip she felt fear. She simply wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what had pulled her to this spot.
However, the feelings couldn’t be denied and she slowly turned away from the store, scanning the people around her with a faint sensation of dread. Her blue eyes fell on an adolescent boy, innocently enjoying an ice cream cone at the same moment his fell on her.
"Jarod!" She whispered, color draining from her face as a barrage of memories broke loose from the bonds that had held them back. She sank slowly to the ground, holding her head in her hands as she remembered everything: her daughter, her husband, the Centre, the children, her murder…
"Miss Parker?" JJ whispered, just as incredulously. The woman had Parker’s face and white hair! Who was she? His cone tumbled from numb fingers as he started through the river of people to the woman who sat so still against the front of the store.
"Please, let me through." He pleaded with the well meaning people who surrounded her, asking her if she was all right. "She’ll talk to me."
Grudgingly, the crowd parted and he was allowed through. He knelt beside her and placed an uncertain hand on her shoulder. Her head slowly came up and she stared at him with a touch of blank incomprehension.
"You can’t be him. It’s been twenty years." She told him faintly.
"I’m not." He answered, knowing exactly what she was referring to. "Do you know anything about Gemini?"
Color began to return to her cheeks as old memories started to settle into place and she was able to reassure herself that she hadn’t lost her mind.
"Yes." She told him, more strongly now. Her hand came up to cup his cheek wonderingly. "It worked, apparently. But how is it that you are here? They wouldn’t-----" She stopped suddenly, realizing that they were surrounded by curious onlookers.
"I’m okay, now." She told everyone firmly. "It was an old injury." She explained with heavy irony that only she understood. Still, as she stood, with the boy’s help and moved off, holding his hand firmly, the crowd parted and let them through unhindered.
She held JJ’s hand in her own until she found a secluded park. Then she seated them on a bench and turned to him urgently.
"Please, tell me what’s been happening. I haven’t been in touch with anyone from the Centre in over 20 years. Has it been destroyed?"
JJ’s suspicions about her dissolved at the hope on her face when she asked about the Centre.
"Who are you?" He asked curiously, instead of answering her. "You look just like Miss Parker except for your hair."
"My baby? Is she okay? Where is she?" Catherine responded breathlessly.
"You’re Miss Parker’s mother? But she said her mother was dead."
"I survived the attempt." Catherine answered slowly. "But I don’t know how. I don’t know who rescued me from that elevator and got me to the hospital. When I actually woke up in the Intensive Care Unit, I didn’t know who I was or what had happened to me. I didn’t remember anything except strange feelings and nightmare flashes until I saw you----You look so much like a boy I tried to rescue from the Centre."
"I’m the clone." He said matter-of-factly. "Jarod helped me escape and I was with our father, Major Charles for a while. Then I ended up with Miss Parker and Sam. We’re staying at Sam’s cabin near here. I think you should come with me. Miss Parker needs you, I think. Oh, and you can call me JJ. Jarod Junior." He added with a smile that was all impish boy.
“What is wrong with my daughter?" She asked, deeply concerned and realizing that this was what here intuition had led her here to deal with.
"She’s going to have a baby. But she had to shoot Lyle, to save me, and he’s her brother. Now she keeps crying and she almost lost the baby once. She keeps asking for her mother, though, so I think you should go to her." JJ recited flatly, trying to push down his feelings of guilt for the part he played in Lyle’s death and Parker’s subsequent anguish.
"Yes, she needs her mother." Catherine whispered. "And I need answers. Take me to her, please."
Silently JJ took her hand and started back to the cabin.
Angelo chewed on a fingernail while he pondered the way events were developing. He’d never known of the name of the Pagode, but he’d known that there was more than one organization that competed with the Centre. He’d always known that Parker had special abilities, even though she didn’t. His problem now was communicating this knowledge to the people who could act on it----Sydney and Jarod.
He’d been alert when Jarod opened his e-mail, and he knew that Jarod still missed the point, as did Sydney. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see a way to make his knowledge clear to them. His speech, as always, was inadequate to the task. He sighed and concluded that there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment. As always, he had to wait for the opportunity to present itself and seize it when it came.
"Sydney." Jarod’s voice was low and full of anguish. "Do you know where she is? Is she okay?"
"No, Jarod." Sydney sighed heavily. "I don’t know where she is, and she isn’t okay. She’s already come close to miscarrying the baby."
"Oh, God!" Jarod groaned. "I’ve got to find her, Syd. I’ve got to be there for her!"
"They went to a hospital. I don’t know which hospital or where, but there might be a lead if you can find it." Sydney offered his protégé sympathetically. "I need to apologize to her too." He admitted a moment later.
"How could I have let her down like this?" Jarod castigated himself.
"We all make mistakes, Jarod. Just find her and make it right, okay? If I speak to her first I’ll tell her how you feel."
"Thanks, Sydney." Jarod said hoarsely, trying to suppress tears. "I’ll keep in touch."
"Find her fast, Jarod." Sydney urged. "I’m worried about this Pagode organization."
"Me too, Syd." Jarod admitted heavily. "Me too."
"So, what are your plans now?" Broots asked Emily nervously. He still found her very attractive, but he was sure that she wouldn’t think twice about a computer geek like himself.
"I’m not sure. The trail I was following on my brother is bound to be ice cold by now. From what you’ve told me about Miss Parker, I wonder if I shouldn’t try to catch up to her and lend a hand? I’ve had a lot more experience in eluding the Centre than she has." Emily answered thoughtfully, absently twirling a strand of mahogany hair around one finger.
"I’m sure that if you find Miss Parker that Jarod won’t be too far behind. He’s bound to know by now that she’s having his baby."
"I still can’t believe you guys thought that she’d had an abortion! Men!" Emily snorted derisively.
"Well, she did go to great lengths to convince everyone she had." Broots defended his friends mildly.
"Yes, but anyone with an ounce of insight would have known better. Beneath that stone cold facade beats the heart of a very caring person. Even I knew that before our first encounter was over----and she was supposed to be my jailer!"
"Well, I called in sick today, and apparently so did Sydney. He should be on his way here soon and we can decide how to proceed then." Broots wisely decided to change the subject.
"We’ll see…" Broots responded noncommittally. ‘Thank goodness,’ he thought gratefully. ‘That Debbie is safely at school during all of this.’
Meanwhile, at Debbie’s school, a black suited man explained to the secretary that he had been sent by her father’s work to pick her up. There had been an accident, he explained, and he was to take the girl to the hospital to be with her father. Innocently, the secretary called Debbie to the office and delivered her into the hands of a Centre Sweeper.
"Raines, why haven’t we received a progress report?" Big Mutumbo’s distinctively deep voice asked with sinister calm over the speaker phone. Remembering his recent stay at Equatorial Africa, Raines began to perspire.
"I just received a report from my Sweeper team." He stammered, grateful he had something good to report. "It looks like she’s gone to ground in Niagara Falls. Apparently Sam’s mother left him a cabin there several years ago. And Jarod has already spoken to the source who gave us this information. There’s a good chance we’ll be able to retrieve him at the same time."
"And the other matter?" Mutumbo’s voice was still disapproving.
"Debbie Broots was collected from her school twenty minutes ago. She’s on her way to a safe house even as we speak." Raines voice was more confident now, his fear subsiding as he realized that matters were progressing towards a productive end.
"Keep me informed." Mutumbo broke the connection, still without expressing a shred of approval.
Her memories were coming back with such a force she felt like her head would explode. Details of her life. Small things, voices, images, smells, everything; forming a picture of a past she thought she had lost forever.
Raines, he had really done it. That damn bastard! Gemini. God what had happened during all those years? What else had he done?
Her thoughts came back to her daughter. Her baby was alive. She was a grown woman now and would be a mother herself soon. This thought nearly made her stop. JJ had only mentioned it briefly, and from what he hadn’t told her, namely anything about a husband, it seemed that her Angel was alone. Who was the father? She cringed inwardly; she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer. Not when she already knew her daughter had grown up at the Centre; under the care of the unfeeling monster she had once loved enough to marry…
The boy, the image of young Jarod, had said that Jarod had freed him. But what that would mean that Jarod was out! How long? How? Her head started to spin from an overload of unanswered questions.
‘First things first,’ she told herself firmly. ‘Angelina needs me now. JJ said she wouldn’t stop crying; the she was devastated because she had shot Lyle. And Lyle was----her brother? How did her Angel get a brother? That unfeeling bastard she had married had to have known she wasn’t dead----would he have remarried anyway?’
Her confusion grew with every passing second.
"Mrs. Jamison!" Jarod snarled. "A stroke of genius! If Sam thinks this will keep her safe he’s more of a gorilla than I’d thought. And to top it all off, he told the doctor that they are heading to Niagara Falls. Why didn’t he just take out an ad in the paper?"
"Jarod, calm down." The Major laughed. "I have a feeling you aren’t angry because of Sam’s actions----you’re just mad because it’s Sam with her and not you." He added astutely.
Jarod gripped the steering wheel harder and clenched his teeth so tightly that they hurt. His father was right, damn it! It wouldn’t have mattered what Sam had done, he would have been furious anyway. And it wasn’t so much that Sam was there and he wasn’t, though that rankled too, it was just… Why of all people did it have to be Sam? His most recent "stay" at the Centre hadn’t exactly left them the best of friends, to say the least.
And what the hell did he think he was doing anyway? Out of the blue he just decides it’s time to play the hero? Why? Why Parker, why now? This was the question that constantly jabbed at his heart and mind. He tried to convince himself that Sam had done it because it was his job, but he knew better. If Sam had been doing his job he would have dragged her back to the Centre by her glorious auburn hair, not taken her to a cozy cabin in Niagara.
Well, Sam had better not be getting wrong ideas. If he thought he and Parker could play house and pretend that Jarod didn’t exist… Jarod stepped harder on the accelerator and glared at the road. He missed his father’s amused smile and resigned shake of the head.
"Syd, I’m glad you’re finally here." Broots said with a nervous smile. He looked apprehensively up and down the quiet street in front of his house and then opened his door wider to let the older man in. "I just received a message from Angelo. He sent us another video."
Sydney entered Broots’ house and examined his colleague’s pale face. He looked so confused and even more apprehensive than usual. Sydney wondered silently just what kind of video Angelo had sent.
Broots led him into his study and hit a key on his computer, returning the video sequence to its beginning. Sydney stepped closer to the screen, curiosity written on his face. Broots hit a button and the images began to move on the screen. Broots stepped back, watching Sydney’s face closely.
On the surface it appeared that Sydney was unmoved by what he’d just seen, but Broots had worked with him long enough to see the signs of trouble. His eyes had narrowed and his arms were folded in front of him. Most telling of all, he was leaning back ever so slightly in an exaggerated pose of nonchalance.
"Sydney do you have any idea what Raines is talking about?" Broots asked hopefully.
"The Pagode; I haven’t heard from them in nearly 20 years. Not since Catherine Parker’s death. At that time they were desperately trying to copy our Pretender Program. As far as I know they didn’t have any luck with it." Sydney answered thoughtfully.
"What about Miss P? They want her as well, not just the baby. But if she is a Pretender too, then why hasn’t she used her ability to catch Jarod??" Broots questioned, confused.
"When Miss Parker was a little girl she sometimes came down to the Sim lab; she even joined Jarod in some of the Sims, but she never did a real Pretend. I am almost positive that she isn’t a Pretender. She sometimes did things that surprised me, but I was never sure if she did them on purpose or not...
"When Raines tested her for the Pretender ability she failed. But..." Sydney trailed off.
"But what, Sydney?" Broots sounded uncharacteristically impatient.
"Yes, but what?" Emily chimed in. She was leaning against the door frame and observing them with open curiosity.
Both men turned as one and stared at her in shock.
"Hey, she’s going to make me an aunt soon! Don’t you think I have a right to know?"
"She has a point." Broots agreed.
Sydney raised his eyebrows, but decided to let it go. After all, they where all in this together..
"When she was done with the test, Raines tried to scare her. He yelled at her and called her a stupid arrogant little girl. For a minute I thought she would burst into tears." Sydney resumed. "But then Raines walked out. She raised her head and, as soon as she was sure he was gone, she made a paper plane out of the test and threw it after him. She had a smile on her face. I never saw her smile like that again." Sydney took a deep breath.
"The next day Catharine Parker died." He ended the story. After a few silent moments he added: "I had forgotten all about that until today. Catherine’s death changed everything."
"I want a coffee, not milk. I hate milk!" Miss Parker glared darkly at the tray Sam had plopped on her bed.
"Caffeine would only stimulate you. You need to relax." Sam replied calmly.
"So you’re a doctor now as well as a nursemaid?" She asked with annoyance.
"No, but the doctor at the hospital gave me exact instructions on what you should eat and drink and what you shouldn’t." Sam replied patiently. He was much too happy seeing her awake and not crying to worry about her touchy temper. If it would make her feel better he would even let her throw the tray at him. He looked closer at the woman sitting in the bed; now that he’d thought of it, from the way she looked at the things on the tray he might just want to start looking for cover.
Milk, honey, fresh fruits and a croissant. Parker eyed them with distaste, but she wasn’t able to stay angry with the man who’d brought them in. She knew Sam had only the best intentions and she really was grateful to him. He had rescued them all from certain disaster.
"Do you think you can manage some fresh orange juice for me?" She asked and flashed him a bright smile. Maybe she could get rid of him long enough to get a quick shower, she thought hopefully. He had made it clear that he was not about to let her out of the bed.
"Sure, just as soon as JJ gets back. He’ll be here any minute now, and he can keep you company while I make some. That way one of us will always be available to help you if you need anything." Sam replied easily, with a wicked twinkle in his eye. He knew her well enough to understand that she only wanted him out of her way so she could do something the doctor had expressly forbidden. He’d gotten her and that baby this far, though, and he would be damned before he let her do anything that would jeopardise all of his hard work.
Even though he’d been expecting it since he brought the tray in, he was caught off guard when the glass of milk came flying in his direction.
JJ held out a restraining hand and kept Catherine back from Parker’s door as they heard the tinkle of shattering glass. It was a good thing too, in the next instant her door was flung open and Sam barreled out into the hallway, dripping with milk and with tiny traces of red scratched on his face from flying glass. He saw Catherine and paused for a moment, his eyes wide with shock, but a frantic glance into the room had him gesturing them back and ducking to one side of the door. A bowl of fruit sailed out the crash against the far wall. It broke into three perfect pieces and tumbled to the floor.
The three people in the hall stared at each other in shock until Catherine’s lips twitched involuntarily.
"I see my daughter still has a bit of a temper." She understated dryly. Her words released Sam from his paralysis.
"God! You look just like her!" He marveled. "But you’re----"
"Dead? As the saying goes, young man: Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated." Catherine raised one brow in a manner reminiscent of Miss Parker. "I think you might want to clean yourself up, change, and put something on those cuts. But before you do, please tell me exactly what is wrong with my daughter."
"Ahhh," Sam’s eyes rolled as he tried to figure out how to pack everything going on into one easy explanation. Finally he decided to give her the barest sketch of events and retreat to his room.
"She’s pregnant, 5, 6 weeks or so, but things have been really stressful for her from the start. Several days ago she was forced to kill her twin brother and even though there was no love lost between them before she’s been completely beside herself. She almost miscarried shortly after, but we got her to a hospital in time. The Centre is after us, so we left the hospital AMA and I’ve been trying to keep her calm and relaxed like the doctor told us too, but she isn’t cooperating much." Sam explained quickly, glancing towards the still open bedroom door as if he was afraid that more food was going to come flying.
"Hmmm, that will do." Catherine mused. "It’s going to give her another shock when I walk in that door, but I think I can help her deal with it. Give us a few hours, okay? And then you can bring in her lunch or brunch or whatever the heck it will be time for." Catherine gave the dazed males a dazzling smile and moved into her daughters doorway.
"Mama!?" They heard Parker exclaim shrilly. "Am I dead now too?"
"No, my precious girl-----" The door shut on Catherine’s answer. Sam and JJ stared at each other for several more long moments before JJ broke the tableau.
"You better go get changed like she said." He advised the burly Sweeper. "I’ll clean up out here."
"Two of them?" Sam murmured dazedly as he stumbled down the hall. "Two of them?!"
Angelo’s fingers flew over the computer as he sent his latest bit of inside information to the small party at Broots’ house. He was grateful that at least computer language was far enough removed from ordinary speech to allow him to use the machines. If only he could simply type what he wanted to say! But the hindrance to speech that bound him kept him from pulling up the words he needed to use, even when he used a keyboard and not his mouth. At least this bit was as clear cut as anyone could ask for.
Broots’ gentle face paled to the point that Sydney and Emily were afraid he was about to pass out.
"Debbie? They took Debbie?" He breathed, an unfamiliar flame of anger sparking in his eyes. His color returned slowly, his lips folded firmly, and he straightened, suddenly seeming taller and rock steady. He walked out of the small study, his steps firm and measured.
When he returned a minute later the change in his personality remained and he was sliding in a clip of bullets for what was only the second time in his Centre career.
"Broots, are you sure you want----" Sydney’s question broke off in mid sentence at the look Broots gave him.
"They have taken my daughter, Sydney." He said, the very quietness of his voice emphasizing his commitment better than a shout ever would. "It’s past time this worm turned."
Emily closed her mouth with an effort. This was unexpected!
"Now, I’m going to make an intensive search of the Centre mainframe, see if I can narrow down the choice of Centre safehouses where they might have Debbie. Sydney, I want you to send Jarod an e-mail, he’ll help once he gets it. Emily, I hate to ask, but could you possibly make us a lot of sandwiches or something? I don’t think we’re going to have much time for meals." Broots ordered the two people around as if they were long-time employees. He didn’t even wait for their responses, just laid the gun gingerly beside his computer, and seated himself before the screen to begin typing furiously.
After another long moment of silent amazement Emily and Sydney exchanged wondering looks. Then, with a shrug Emily went off to the kitchen. Sydney tapped his upper lip thoughtfully with his finger, and then he too left the small study.
"No! I don’t WANT any cookies! I’m ALLERGIC to chocolate." Debbie shrieked, her face red and her brunette hair tumbling messily from her barrettes. "Daddy always gives me GRANOLA BARS after school! And where is my Daddy? I want my DADDY!"
Her shrieks became a wailing, off key cry. If the two Sweepers guarding her had been a bit more alert the would have noticed the fleeting smile of triumph that crossed Debbie’s lips when they covered their ears and winced.
"Look, Debbie," the younger sweeper, a slender blond man, pleaded. "We’ll get you granola bars, just PLEASE stop that noise!"
The wail broke off in mid-stream and Debbie cocked an inquiring eyebrow.
"And apple juice?" She asked with amazing calm. The two men exchanged looks of relief, not experienced enough with children to realize that Debbie’s abrupt change of temper was unnatural, to say the least.
"Yes!" The older man agreed quickly. His hair was gray and he had the thicker waist of a man in his later 40’s. "We’ll get you any kind of juice you want, just please don’t cry anymore."
Debbie’s lip quivered artistically and her eyes filled with tears, and both men braced themselves involuntarily.
"But I want my DADDY!" She wailed, at the top of her lungs. Unfortunately for the two Sweepers, Debbie had recently decided that she wanted a career on stage. Multiplying their sorrows was the fact that she had discovered the old Disney film, The Ransom of Red Chief, only a few months ago. Debbie was having a blast. The Sweepers were wondering which would be worse, dumping Debbie off on her own front doorstep and facing the Centre’s wrath, or listening to her incessant whining and crying.
"Hello, Sydney." The woman’s voice on the other end of the phone was low and husky, seductive even though she was young enough to be Sydney’s daughter.
"Marion." He said warmly. "I haven’t heard from you in ages! How are you doing?"
His heart lifted. Marion was the last child Catherine had rescued before her death and she’d kept in touch with Sydney over the years. After the run of grim events they’d all been experiencing it was a balm to his battered heart to hear from someone he could remember with a sense of pleasure.
"How is Jarod doing?" She asked curiously. Sydney smiled, she always asked about Jarod. She’d only seen him once, but he seemed to have made quite an impression.
"He’s under a little more stress than usual at the moment, but he’ll work things out, I’m sure. " He answered her easily.
"And Miss Parker? Is she also doing well?"
Now Sydney frowned slightly. Was there a touch of acid in that question?
"She’s as well as could be expected." He told the young woman noncommittally.
"That’s good to hear." Marion carefully modulated the dislike she felt for the other woman out of her voice. Sydney was far too perceptive for her to relax her vigilance when she spoke to him. "I know it was hard on her, losing her mother the way she did. And that father of hers…."
"Yes, Mr. Parker seems to be a bit lacking in support where his daughter is concerned." Sydney understated his feelings with characteristic dryness. Marion stifled a chuckle. She knew that Mr. Parker had been acting on the advice of her foster mother for years. Neither he or Sydney knew of their connection to the Pagode.
"Well, I’ve got to go now. Drop me an e-mail if anything comes up, okay?" She ended the conversation breezily.
"I’ll do that, Marion, and you take care of yourself, okay?" Sydney urged with paternal concern.
"I always do, Syd." She assured him cheerfully. "I always do."
Major Charles woke slowly, finally realizing that the car had stopped. His son sat with his head on the steering wheel, tears slipping down his face again. Charles opened his mouth, caught the words of the song Jarod was listening to on the radio, and closed his mouth again.
When you love a woman you tell her that she's really wanted When you love a woman you tell her that she's the one Cuz she needs somebody to tell her that it's gonna last forever So tell me have you ever really - really really ever loved a woman?
"Son," He said, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Don’t beat yourself up like this…"
Jarod stopped him with an upraised hand, listening to the song with every fiber of his being.
To really love a woman Let her hold you - til ya know how she needs to be touched You've gotta breathe her --- really taste her ‘Til you can feel her in your blood N' when you can see your unborn children in her eyes Ya know ya really love a woman
When you love a woman you tell her that she's really wanted When you love a woman you tell her that she's the one Cuz she needs somebody to tell her that you'll always be together So tell me have you ever really ---- really really ever loved a woman?
You got to give her some faith - hold her tight A little tenderness - gotta treat her right She will be there for you, takin' good care of you Ya really gotta love your woman...
"Dammit, Dad!" He said, as the last notes faded he switched off the radio. "I thought I loved her! I thought I knew what love was."
"Switch places with me son." The Major said firmly before opening his door and leaving the car to stand outside of the driver’s door. For an instant Jarod looked like he was going to protest, but the Major’s steely gaze overcame his objections without either of them saying a word. Sighing, Jarod slid over to the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt.
Nodding his satisfaction, the Major slid behind the wheel and put the vehicle in motion again. Only then did he resume his conversation with his son.
"Jarod, trust me in this----you love the woman." He said flatly. "Just because you let her down it doesn’t mean you don’t love her. No matter what any song in the world says, you’re never going to meet you’re loved one’s needs all the time."
"Dad, I accused her of killing our baby!" Jarod said hoarsely, fatigue and grief distorting his voice almost beyond recognition.
"And she did everything in her power to make you believe she had." He pointed out to his son reasonably.
"But I should have known better!" Jarod cried out. "Dammit, I’m a Pretender! Knowing what people feel is part of who I am!"
"Son, I don’t care if you were the Messiah himself, when a man’s in love all of the intelligence in the world won’t save him from making an ass of himself." "She needed me." Jarod said stubbornly.
"And you needed me all of those years. Did I not love you enough? Is that why we weren’t a family?" His father asked abruptly.
"Well, no…" Jarod admitted slowly.
"The important thing to remember here, son, is that you’ve seen your mistake, you’ll learn from it, and you want to make amends. Now, listen to your old man here, you won’t be a damn bit of good to the woman you love, or your baby, if you don’t quit torturing yourself for making a very human mistake. I may be mistaken, but I’m fairly certain that even Pretenders are human." He added dryly. "Now forgive yourself and get some sleep. We’ll be in Niagara in a few hours."
"Yes, Dad." Jarod smiled briefly, although he knew his feelings of guilt weren’t going to be so easily banished. The Major knew it too, he just wanted his son to get started on the process.
"Sir, we’ve reached the Falls and we’re looking for the cabin’s neighborhood now." Two voices from two nearly identical goons spoke into different cell phones and to different bosses.
"Good." Rasped Raines feeble voice. "Don’t fail me."
"Excellent." Marion said crisply. "Don’t fail me."
HOME |
SEQUEL |
