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"I’m waiting…” he prodded as she remained stubbornly silent.
Miss Parker focused her gaze on a spot just behind his left arm, her mind was racing, trying to come up with an explanation for him. He was just too close and she had never seen him so angry. She was aware that he had every right to be, from his point of view at least, but she also knew there had been no alternative.
"Jarod..." she trailed off, trying to gather her thoughts.
'Come on!’ She ordered herself. ‘Get a grip, you know it’s the best — the only way.'
A silent battle waged between her conscience and her head. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she couldn’t see any other way. The icy shell that had allowed her to maintain the cold image of a heartless woman slipped over her as her head won the war. He’d never believed anything she’d tried to convince him of before, but she would have to make sure he did this time. It was time for a performance like she’d never managed, but she’d had years navigating the intrigues of the Centre to prepare her for this moment. She could do it – for his sake.
"Jarod," she began again, her voice now clear and steady, her gaze moving to look him directly in eye. “What do you want from me? None of this is any of your business. You must know the whole thing was just an accident."
She saw his eyes darken with pain and steeled herself to continue anyway.
"It was nothing more than a little science experiment." She curled her lips up in a cold little smile, raising one eyebrow at him. She was deliberately mocking him, making a joke out of him and his feelings. For a split second she feared he would slap her.
"Science experiment?" He choked.
This couldn’t true, she would never – he stared in her eyes – dark blue and sparkling in the dim light – laughing. Laughing at his feelings – laughing at him. He was such a fool! Everybody had seen in her what she was, only he had insisted that they were all wrong. He’d known that she wasn’t cold and selfish, uncaring. Now she was there in front of him, leaning against that damn wall, and laughing at him – at his pain. For a moment he fought with the desire to slap that mocking grin off of her face.
After he’d received the file he had tried to reach her, to hear her tell him that it was a fake, that it wasn’t true. He wanted to hear---what? That she loved him? That she couldn’t do anything so cruel?
He tried to ask her, when he called her, but the moment she heard his voice she disconnected the call. 24 hours later he had finally managed to get her alone with him. Now here he stood, looking her in the eye, hearing her words, but not believing them. A little voice piped up in his head, reminding him of what he had always known.
'What did you really expect? She is a Parker.'
Her very pose made everything harder – to see her leaning back, relaxed, confident, unmoving – uncaring – it was even worse than the call he made earlier that day. His last try to get her to talk to him over the phone. He’d had to wonder if the whole thing had been concocted just to get him within arm’s length of her and back into the Centre’s hands. They had to know that he’d have to investigate the possibility, he’d have to know. Lyle had picked up the phone that last time. He’d laughed at him, demanded to know what he wanted, and then told him it was already too late. How could she have confided in her bastard of a brother, but not in him? How could she do this to him? To them both? Then Lyle – smooth talking, helpful Lyle – had suggested that it would be better for Jarod to simply deliver himself to the Centre before something even worse happened. After all, everyone knew how important family was to him. Then he’d hung up on Jarod, not even trying to keep him on the line long enough to trace the call. His taunting laugh still echoed in Jarod’s ears, still beat against Jarod’s bruised heart. But Lyle was nothing comparing to her silent laughter. He had to fight not to grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled, just to see if he could get any sense or any feeling into her cold, hard heart.
It was time to face facts, he finally realized. He simply had to admit to himself that she had lied to him; that nothing she had told him that night had been true. It had been a sick game to her, nothing more. He had simply been a toy for her, something to be used and then thrown away.
Miss Parker could see his thoughts racing, and his expression changed from shock to deep disgust; not hate, or pity, just disgust. It was like a knife twisting in her heart. She had no idea where she the strength to keep up her attitude came from.
‘Damn it, Jarod!’ She silently screamed. ‘Now you believe me? How could you? How could you do this to me – to us?’
Her heart cried out to him to question, not to believe his eyes, his ears. But her performance was flawless. She had, in her own way, been trained to Pretend as well as Jarod. Not by Sims, of course, but by the unending struggle of her life.
Jarod slowly pushed his body away from the wall, away from her. He felt ancient, as if he’d aged a year for every minute he’d spent with her. He took two steps back, his gaze roaming over her body, and he shook his head in disbelief even though he had finally accepted that she had told him the truth. His friend was dead, he admitted at last, knowing he would feel grief at some later date. She had died long ago in one of the dark corridors of the Centre, and had been buried with her mother. She had lost her soul, or sold it to the Centre. And, his mind always returning to the source of his crushing disillusionment like a tongue prodding a sore tooth, it was true, the file was no fake, she had really done it.
"How could you do this?" He finally asked, turning and moving further to the shadows of the night.
When his figure was nothing more than an outline in the darkness, he turned a last time, glancing back at her, as she continued to lean against the wall.
"Your little science experiment was our baby.” His voice radiated bitterness and chilled her with the wealth of rejection he managed to instill into it. “You’ve killed our child. I only hope you’re happy now."
With this, he vanished into the darkness leaving Parker shaken and slightly nauseous where she stood. Guilt welled up for a moment, before she forced it down and kept it there with her own, familiar, anger. He’d always claimed to know her better than she knew herself, but he’d just proven that he didn’t know a thing about her.
"This is Sydney." The familiar voice that answered was low and held a gentle accent.
The silence drew on as Jarod’s whisky numbed brain struggled to come up with words. Sydney was just about to ask who was there when he finally heard something on the other end.
"Sydney?"
Sydney had trouble identifying this voice as Jarod's. He never sounded the same from call to call, his voice holding excitement, cheer, concern, or any number of other things, but whatever the emotion, he was always clear and his words easy to understand. But now he slurred, almost as if he was…
"Jarod? Jarod, what’s up? Are you all right?" His words alarmed the other person in the room and Broots looked from his screen over to the older man.
"Sydney you are alone?" The voice slurred again into Sydney's ear.
"No, Broots is with me." He hesitated for a second and as the silence drew out again added, "Miss Parker isn’t here, though."
"Oh good..." Jarod paused to focus on his words, but his mind was reeling. The alcohol he’d consumed was already affecting him, but it hadn’t dampened any of the pain the way he’d hoped it would. "How could she do it, Sydney?"
The raw pain in Jarod’s words robbed the older man of his voice. Know that the young man he cared for so deeply was somewhere alone and wounded, broke his heart. What could he do? He had no refuge for Jarod, no place for him to turn, no answer to soothe the boy’s pain.
Jarod had no family, or, more accurately, nobody knew where they where. No one had seen even a hint of the Major or the clone again after they took off from the airfield. Sydney knew that the Centre was undoubtedly recording this call, and would follow his every word closely, but the urge to ask Jarod where he was so that he could go and try to comfort him was nearly overwhelming. Miss Parker had been always been like a daughter to him, and her reaction to Project Gemini, her actions on behalf of the boy had raised such a hope – he’d finally been able to see the little girl he’d known before Catherine’s death. He’d started to believe that she not only looked like Catherine, but that she had her heart, her passion... His chest burned with the pain of his disappointment.
"Syd, please I need to know..."
Jarod's helpless plea was almost enough to make Sydney cry as well – and he’d thought he had no tears anymore after Jacob's accident and Catherine's death… But how do you answer a question when you don’t know the answer? When there isn’t even a comforting lie?
"I don't know." He finally managed, sighing deeply.
"Liar! It was a Centre plan!” Jarod lashed back furiously. “It was all a fake, a trap, and she helped to set it up. She and her wonderful brother. But there was a mistake, they hadn’t planned on a baby had they? And what do you do with a mistake? With an accident? Why you simply erase it, don’t you? Remove the unwanted result.”
Sydney wanted to cry out against the agony in Jarod’s hoarse voice, but Jarod gave him no opening to do so.
“The Chairman's daughter can’t have the child of the lab rat, it would be beneath her, wouldn’t it? I wasn’t even important enough to her for her to tell me. Do you know that she called our baby an accident? A science experiment?" He virtually shouted those last words and with all his remaining strength he threw the phone at the opposite wall, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces; much like his life.
"Sydney you are OK?" Broots hesitantly stepped closer to the desk of the older man.
He didn't answer. His friend was simply sitting there staring at the phone. Broots had heard the tail end of Sydney’s conversation with Jarod. The last words from the Pretender had been so loud that he had easily heard the man’s voice all the way over in his corner of the room. He hadn’t understood the words, but he had a pretty good idea of what it had been about. Sydney looked at him, then back to the phone, only now realizing that he still held it in his hand. He exhaled slowly as he laid it down.
"No, I am not.” He finally replied. “And neither is Jarod.” His eyes darkened even more as he went on.
“You know someone their whole life, you see them grow up, you work with them and you think that you know them. Then, suddenly you learn you know nothing, that everything you believed was false. I saw that Miss Parker had changed, but I always held onto the belief that inside she was still the lovely girl I knew. I was so sure that there was more between Jarod and her than either of them would let us see. They really were good for each other. I hoped…" the older man’s voice trailed off sorrowfully.
Broots was at a loss for words. He’d never seen Sydney so out of balance, and he couldn’t remember ever hearing Sydney reveal so much at once. Normally Syd was the quiet person in the background, always listening, with a knowing smile on his lips. An observer. Always in control. Always impeccably groomed. Now he looked like he had slept in his suit for a week. His eyes had dark circles underneath them making them appear sunken. Broots could even see his hands trembling. Everything Sydney had believed in was slipping away.
Jarod had always been like a son to him.
Seeing him reunited with his father had been hard on Sydney. He had feared losing him, knowing how long Jarod had craved a real father. Perhaps that had something to do with why he had risked everything to save the boy, Jarod’s clone. The thought of that lab in the subterranean complex of Donoterase still sent a shiver down his spine. All those dead, malformed fetuses… The memory brought him back to the current problem.
"Sydney, uh… Do you have any idea where Jarod is?" Broots asked quietly.
The man behind the desk looked up confused.
"No. Why do you ask? Do you want to send some sweeper to get him? Maybe you think he’s too confused to evade us this time? Or do you just think he won’t care anymore? Why don’t we kick him while we’re at it?" Sydney replied, his voice angry – hurt and betrayal evident in each word.
Broots shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other, not sure if he should continue. He thought that this was the time to talk about it, that he might be able to help Jarod and Sydney both by sharing his story.
He wasn’t offended that his colleague had reacted with anger. Sydney had been convinced that he knew and could trust Miss Parker. He’d been sure that she would never do anything that would really harm Jarod. He’d watched Miss Parker grow up, and he’d been proven dramatically to be wrong in his judgment of her, so now Sydney was questioning everything. How, he was asking himself, could he trust Broots when he’d only known him for a few years?
"That’s not why I asked." Broots paused again, still not sure if he should go on. Then, before he could change his mind, he decided to tell Sydney everything. Maybe after all this time something good could come from his own personal tragedy.
"Sydney, I’ve never told this to anybody, but I think now I should. My ex-wife never wanted children. She didn’t just believe them to be useless, she thought they were a waste of time and money that would ruin her figure. When she got pregnant with Debbie we had a hell of a fight – I was terrified she would do something stupid, like have an abortion. I was so relieved when I was finally able to hold my baby girl for the first time. She was a miracle. The only good thing I had ever done in my life." He took a shuddering breath before he continued.
"When Debbie was about 2 years old, I found an invoice from a local clinic. Debbie should have had a brother or sister. The bill was nearly 2 months old but I hadn’t had any idea anything had happened until that moment.
“I confronted my wife with evidence of her abortion, and all she said was that she’d simply forgotten to tell me. She wondered why I was making such a big deal over something that was so trivial. Sydney can you imagine it? I looked at her and I could tell, she really couldn’t understand why I was so upset. It meant nothing more to her than a visit to the beautician to get her hair trimmed."
He looked at the shocked psychiatrist, shaking his head sadly over his wife’s still incomprehensible actions.
"You know, there was never any question that my wife didn’t want Debbie. That’s why I was so surprised that she fought for custody during our divorce. I just thank God that she didn’t have her for very long.
“Sydney, when I saw Miss Parker with Debbie, I was worried at first that she would hurt her even more, but Debbie adored her. And after the first time she spent a while with Miss Parker, Debbie nearly stopped talking and asking about her mother. Is that funny or what? It was after seeing Miss Parker with Debbie that I began to see that she would make a good mother. I even thought she would like to have children of her own."
Sydney response was interrupted by angry voices just outside of their door. In moments the door was pushed open and Miss Parker and Mr. Lyle came inside, still arguing.
"She is my project. I captured her!" The young man stated in an, angry voice.
"Oh, my poor bro,” Miss Parker replied with a sarcastic smile. "Your expectations blighted, but I do admit that in this case I really have to thank you!" She turned to both men at the other side of the room.
"Broots, Sydney, there is something you need to know." She announced, glancing over at her brother who looked completely frustrated.
"Lyle will be replacing me here. He and Angelo will be assigned to your team permanently to help in the search for Jarod. The Triumvirate has asked me to relay the message that they expect results from your team very soon."
"May I ask you where you are going now Miss Parker?" Sydney inquired, his expression cold and condemning.
Lyle sneered unpleasantly.
"You may ask." Miss Parker declared before turning on one heel and stalking out of the room.
"What was that all about?" Broots asked, completely confused.
"That, " Lyle answered caustically, "was my dear sister's way of letting us all know she’s won. At least for the moment.”
Broots continued to look confused, so he continued.
“Apparently you haven’t heard the good news. You may have failed for more than 3 years to catch Jarod, but I caught his sister just today..."
Lyle stopped and savored the shocked expression on the other men's faces. He stepped closer and continued, his voice full of vitriol.
"My beloved sister convinced the Triumvirate to restart the Project Gemini and to put her in charge. Emily is her number one lab rat right now."
Some of Lyle’s bitterness was assuaged at the looks of sick comprehension on both men’s faces. His sister may have stolen his triumph, but he would make damn sure she wouldn’t have any friends to fall back on when the whole thing fell apart in her face. And it would fall apart, of this he was sure. No matter how hard and conniving she’d just proven herself to be, Parker simply didn’t have the callousness to remain on top at the Centre.
Eyes as blue as a Caribbean sea stared blindly at the night through her living room window. Tears wavered indecisively before one spilled over, others following in a torrent. She wished she could tell Jarod, could explain to Sydney. Their contempt and their pain hurt her deeply, but she didn't dare try to justify herself to either of them. She didn't dare talk to anyone.
Poor Jarod, she'd always hoped he'd never find out about this. She knew how important family was to him and she'd always known that the thought of his child being destroyed before it was even born would devastate him. She couldn't take it back, though. She couldn't change anything now just to spare him. She had done – hell, she was doing the only thing she could for all of them. No child of theirs would be safe in this environment, ever. Not as long as the monsters in the Tower and the Triumvirate wanted to own it.
Still, the silent tears fell and Parker hugged herself tightly as the memories rose in her mind. Learning that she was pregnant, that her night with Jarod hadn't just been an unusually vivid, and admittedly pleasant, dream, had been a shock. Then hiding her pregnancy, hoping no one would know. And, finally, that awful confrontation with Lyle.
"We know about the baby, Parker." Lyle had said, his perfect face lit with malicious glee.
At Parker’s blank look of shock he’d laughed.
"You weren’t really imagining I didn’t notice your illness while we were trapped in Jarod’s shipping container, did you? And you didn’t really think I wouldn’t moniter you closesly afterwards, did you. I’m your brother, I have to make sure you didn’t suffer any ill effects from your ordeal, don’t I? I saw the results of your home pregnancy test before you did." He laughed again as Parker glared darkly at him, wondering how she could have imagined that she’d have any privacy simply because she was in her own home. She’d have to tear the place apart tonight and find the camera that Lyle had undoubtedly hidden in it. Lyle, however, went too far when he spoke again.
"But don't worry, once his baby is born we'll take it off of your hands and you'll never even have to look at it again."
Suddenly Parker wasn’t angry anymore, but icily calm as a truly dreadful suspicion began to grow in her mind.
"What makes you think it's Jarod's brat?" She had asked him, a white hot rage roaring beneath her surface calm.
"I arranged the encounter between the two of you, of course." Lyle answered nonchalantly. "You didn't really think Jarod was going to be wandering around the Centre without help, did you? Not even Jarod can gain access to the Centre without our knowledge anymore. We figured out his escape route years ago, and we’ve monitored the vents ever since. And to make it as far as your office the one night you happened to be working late? Really, Parker, I thought you were smarter than that. "
The rage broke free, making Parker see red, and Lyle came closer to having his brains violently scattered across a wall than he ever had in his life. No threat from the shadowy underworld figures he’d dealt with before coming full-time to the Centre, or the drug cartels, or even the Japanese Mafia that had taken his thumb, could compare to Parker’s need to wreak havoc on the smug face standing before her. It was an indication of her monumental control that her hand only twitched restlessly, rather than grabbing the 9mm nestled against her back and pulling the trigger, repeatedly.
"I see." She managed through tight lips. Did they somehow ensure her cooperation? The Centre was positively Machiavellian about drugs, could that be why the whole affair still seemed so much like a dream?
"Not to worry, though, Sis.” Lyle continued, blythly unaware of her murderous thoughts. “I'll make sure you have the best of care. In fact, I'd like you to take your suite of rooms in the Tower for the duration."
"Not a chance, Psycho Boy." She had snarled in the low, husky voice that presaged her worst displays of anger. She’d felt a savage spurt of satisfaction as Lyle’s face darkened with impotent fury at her petty name-calling.
"Perhaps you’ll have no choice." He’d suggested menacingly.
"Don’t even go there, Lyle!" She had replied, just as menacingly. "You still don’t have that kind of authority and you really don’t want to get on my bad side." Her thoughts returned longingly to the her gun and Lyle’s gray matter decorating the wall behind him.
"Fine!" He’d backed down as her hard blue eyes bored into his. "I’ll take it up with the Tower. Be in my office at 9am tomorrow, got it?"
"Lyle, why don’t you –" What Parker suggested then was anatomically impossible, but Lyle understood the underlying message. His face was as sulky as a two-year-old being sent to its room for a nap as she moved past him, her every sense alert as she passed by him, and sauntered out of the room as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She blessed the instinct that had warned her to show only her fury and keep the sick feeling of violation that the conversation had left her to herself. She knew if Lyle had picked up the slightest inkling of what she intended to do next he would have called in a sweeper team and had her detained. He wanted the baby, as would the Triumvirate, but they would never get their hands on her child. Lyle had underestimated her and he would pay for his arrogance.
The next morning she’d called in sick, explaining to her brother with acid satisfaction that she’d had an abortion the night before. She had spent that day assembling the proof of her successful abortion, and obtaining a suitable specimen of fetal tissue to turn over to the Centre. She knew that Lyle had demanded it because they would want to try to clone the baby, as they had onced cloned Jarod. She wondered how long it would take them to realize that she’d given them tissue from an infant that had spontaneously miscarried because of severe genetic defects. They’d never get a viable child from the what she’d provided!
Emily’s capture had only complicated matters, even though it gave her the perfect revenge against Lyle. Death was too quick and easy for him, she decided bitterly, far better for him to live a long life in hell. And she was just the person to ensure that his life remained a living hell. He had no hope of outthinking Jarod and none of the others on his team were going to put forth any real effort in capturing her nemesis. Taking away his specimen and his pet project had given her the most joy she’d felt in weeks.
The tears fell faster, and she began to rock back and forth with the pain as she wondered again how the two men she trusted most in the world could believe such a horrible thing of her. Were they starting to accept her cold mask as the real her? Did she really seem so heartless? Was that Emily would see when she finally met her and spoke to her? Worst of all, were they right? Had she become that angry and bitter?
Damn them both! She decided, anger rising to her rescue again. Let them suffer! Let them hurt, just like they’d hurt her. She wouldn’t even tell Jarod about Emily if he called her. Wouldn’t give him a clue that she was going to get Emily out of this place if it killed her! Sydney could give her all of the wounded and reproachful looks in his repertoire, she wouldn’t change her stance in the slightest. So they didn’t want to trust her? Trust her judgment? Fine, she’d make sure they lived with that choice----both of them.
‘Tomorrow,’ Parker told herself, trying to regain control. ‘Tomorrow I will meet the girl, and I pray that she’s a smart as Jarod. I’ll have to clue her in subtly, that I’m not the enemy. If she doesn’t understand me, I don’t know what I’ll do. What if she accepts me at face value as Sydney and Jarod have? Damn, what does it matter? I’ll make it work, somehow,’ she promised herself – ‘for all of our sakes.’
Yesterday everything had been so clear, but then her not-so-beloved mutant twin brother had caught Emily. God she would never forget the look in Sydney’s and Broots eyes when she told them she was taking over Gemini and Emily. The hurt and the betrayal all mixed up with disgust. Disgust for her and what she had done during the last few days.
Now everything was going wrong! Why in God’s name had Jarod hacked into that damn mainframe and found her medical report?
‘He’s always worrying about you,’ a small voice in her head answered her silent question. ‘No, better change that to, he used to worry about you. Not anymore, though. If nothing else, you’ve surely managed to get him completely out of your life.’
She knew she should be really happy that he wasn’t a violent man; she still could feel the chill of fear running down her spine when she remembered the look he had given her in that damn alley. She knew it had taken him all of his willpower not to hit her.
With another groan she dragged herself to her feet and headed to the bathroom.
She flicked on the lights in the room and looked at her refection in the mirror above the sink. She looked like hell. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin was so white it was nearly transparent. It would take a lot of makeup to cover the signs of another sleepless night. She had no idea how much her body could take, although from the way she looked this morning she knew it couldn’t be much more. Her whole body was on fire, her back ached more than it had for in weeks, and a faint nausea accompanied the pounding in her head. She felt like she could sleep for a week straight.
She had nearly died from blood loss after Willie had shot her, but she had healed quickly. She had an unpleasant feeling that the damage from this fiasco was going to take much longer to heal, if it ever did.
There had never been a time she had not missed her mother, but now she felt like she couldn’t survive without her. Sydney had always been a refuge for Jarod, an anchor of sanity in the craziness of the Centre, but she didn’t have anyone. Since her mother’s death she’d had no hiding place, no sanctuary where she could stop and let herself relax and regain her strength. Everything has a price; it’s only a question of whether you’re willing to pay it. She had paid, and she would pay for this for a long time. Miss Parker stared at the pale woman looking out of the mirror at her. What would her mother have done in her situation?
‘Oh Momma, why aren’t you here? I really need you.’ Silent tears ran down her cheeks.
With a small sob she turned to take a shower. A nice warm shower to wash away the tension in her body.
‘A hot shower and some fresh air and I’ll feel much better.’
"Good morning Syd, Broots." Lyle greeted the 2 men in the office with overdone cheer. He hated to being trapped like this. His damn sister had made a smarter move than he had ever dreamed she would. He had underestimated her daring.
He went over his plan again as he made his way over to his desk, trying one more time to figure out where he’d gone wrong.
It had been perfect. Completely perfect. Her weak spot had been always her family and her friends. Damn it! It had been perfect! Everything had worked out fine. He’d hoped to ensure her pregnancy while she was still in the coma from taking the bullet intended for their father, but he’d made alternative plans, as always. She had returned to the Centre after Broots and Sydney had discovered her, and it had been no problem to exchange the painkillers the doctors had sent home with her for his experimental drug. It had taken several days to get everything flawlessly set up, but then it had been even easier than he had ever dared to hope.
He silently grinned. Jarod was a Pretender, a smart man, Lyle sneered mentally at this. “Wonder boy.” The name always reminded him of the comics he had loved so much as a child and he had never been allowed to read. He still remembered one day when his father caught him secretly reading one of them, and he could still hear the crack when his rib broke under the powerful blow from his father that had sent him crashing against the wall. He shook his head to clear his mind. He would not go back there, that was his past. Now was all that mattered.
Anyway, if he had ever had the slightest doubt about the feelings the Pretender had for his sister, his actions on the airfield had given him away. A really stupid move for such a smart man. But it was certainly beneficial for Lyle. He knew that the man who’d given up his freedom once for a woman would certainly be willing to risk it a second time to reassure himself that she was really safe and well. Look who’s smart now, Lyle thought smugly. All he’d had to do was line the air vents that Jarod used to get in and out of the Centre with more of the drug, one that absorbed easily through the skin, and the die was cast. Jarod and Parker had performed admirably, and he’d been confident that their one encounter would lead to others. The drug would only enhance their attraction to each other, and Lyle had resolved to be on hand when Jarod returned for an encore performance.
Just to make sure no one knew of his involvment in their affair, since it would be a disaster for either his pawns or the Centre to figure it out, he’d continued his search for the Pretender. He congratulated himself for the bomb. That had been a master stroke on his part. Either Jarod rescued his sister, and then she would be more receptive to further advances from him later, should that be necessary, or he wouldn’t, and the biggest obstacle to his advancement in the Centre and in his family would be gone. No matter what happened, he won.
But then Jarod had ceaced to cooperate. The Pretender didn’t return, didn’t follow up on that one night with Parker. And, while the part of him that considered Parker to be his own personal property was happy, the part that was counting on a baby Pretender was frustrated. He watched his sister with an eagle eye, searching for anything that might indicate pregnancy. The morning before Jarod had trapped in that shipping container he’d been sure he saw signs of it. Her mood had been even fouler than usual, and when he’d offered her some breakfast she’d looked ready to throw up all over him. He’d noticed that every morning they were together that her face was a faintly green, and he’d been quite honestly surprised when she actually managed to eat a roasted grasshopper without upchucking. Of course, the key she’d bitten into might have had something to do with her mastery of her stomach. In a way he’d been grateful to Jarod for giving him so much time with his sister to observe her without raising her suspicion.
By the time they’d arrived back at the Centre he had been convinced that his plan had worked out. He had nearly danced with joy when he saw the results of her home pregnancy test. He hadn’t dared to hope that she would actually leave the thing sitting in plain view on her bathroom counter when he’d installed the surveillance camera. But that was the end of his luck.
Lyle could still not believe that she simply walked out and had a abortion. He’d never have believed his soft, sentimental sister could do such a thing, at least not without a lot of soul-searching first. Then, for her to provide the Centre with the fetal tissue to clone, he still couldn’t believe it! He was even more shocked when she handed everything over to the Triumvirate! And for her to then claim that now that they were using her genetic material as well that they should give her the project! Well, that was simply too much. Lyle could feel the anger rising again about the entire situation.
But it was her next demand that nearly knocked him out. He had caught Emily and he was about to consolidate his position in the Centre hierarchy, but she destroyed all that in an instant. After the Triumvirate had agreed to give her Gemini, she had demanded Emily for research. Before he could protest he saw the satisfied look on Mutumbo’s face and his nod of agreement. He had flexed his hands longingly, dreaming of wrapping them around the neck of his sister, who was giving him an acid smile of triumph.
He tried to protest, only to have Mutumbo warn him that the Centre was not a democracy. He’d only dared to ask what his role in the Centre would be from now on. Of course, Daddy’s "Angel" already had a wonderful idea. They still had a Pretender on the run and Lyle had always claimed to be the better choice to hunt him, now was his chance to prove it. She had cheerfully suggested that he work with Sydney and Broots, and oh, Angelo too, to recapture Jarod. That damn freak.
There was no logical reason he could find to refuse this job, so, silently cursing, he agreed. On top of everything else, now they had blocked his access to all of Project Gemini’s data.
While Lyle was lost in his thoughts he was also searching the data base, not really knowing what he was looking for. He didn’t care that he was venturing into forbidden files. After all, if he found a proof that she had betrayed the Centre it wouldn’t matter that he’d disobeyed orders.
He was about to open the next file when something caught his eye. It was the findings of the initial tests on the fetal tissue Parker had provided. He exulted as he realized that the data had been altered, and the Rhesus Factor had been changed from positive into negative. This file was the automatic backup and it showed the original findings. He was positive that Parker had done this. No one else would have anything to gain from it and he was sure if Broots had somehow been convinced to do it for his sister he would never have made such a big mistake – not that he would help her anymore anyway. Lyle grinned, sure now of victory.
Time to show his dear sister where her place in life was. After the Triumvirate saw this report, his position and authority would be returned and Parker would – well, maybe he could arrange a nice cell in Donoterase for her, next to Emily. At this thought his smile grew even wider. He never noticed the uneasy looks Sydney and Broots exchanged as they surreptitiously observed him. They knew him well enough by now to know that his smile did not promise anything good.
He couldn’t remember ever being so frightened in his life. Even when he’d been running from Lyle he had only been afraid for himself. Now, he was afraid for Parker. Sydney believed that she’d done something unforgivable, and even he felt a sickening pain inside when he thought of her aborting her child. He’d seen the strain on her face, though, and wondered just what was driving her. Oh, she’d carefully hidden her distress behind makeup and her brittle mask of antagonism, but it was unmistakably there if one looked closely enough.
Something was driving the woman he respected, admired, and, yes, even loved in an untouchable way. Maybe she had done something horrible, but really, could he judge her? Was she so wrong to save the baby from life in the Centre? He thought of his daughter Debbie, peacefully sleeping in her room, at the mercy of Raines or Lyle, and shuddered. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he just might kill her himself, right now, if it would spare her such a fate. Whatever Parker had done, he had faith that she’d only done what she thought she had to do. She might be abrasive, and appear ruthless and cold sometimes, but he knew that she was a warm and loving woman underneath all of that, and he trusted her heart.
He didn’t know how to tell her he believed in her, or that he knew she was only doing what was necessary to survive, so he was doing the next best thing. He was trying to uncover what Lyle had been so happy to find in the Centre’s main database. So far he’d managed to get as far as Project Gemini’s files, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to get into them. It wouldn’t be long, though. He’d have the security guarding the project down and get the information "through the back door", as it were.
He found himself looking around for Sweepers again, as he waited for his program to do its work, and was relieved when his computer beeped and drew his attention back to the monitor. He cursed his foolishness in ever taking a job at the Centre, not for the first time, and reflected that he simply was not cut out for a life of intrigue, also not for the first time. His fears were forgotten, however, when he started reading the files around Project Gemini. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in amazement as he realized what he’d found. Disregarding the late hour he phoned Sydney not ten minutes later.
"Sydney." He said to the man’s drowsy query. "I’ve found something concerning Miss Parker."
"I don’t want to hear it, Broots." Sydney answered with weary pain. "I just can’t deal with another problem right now."
"Sydney, you want to know this, trust me." Broots insisted, getting Sydney’s attention with his persistence.
"Okay, what is it?" He sighed, his mind drifting longingly towards the dream he’d been having when his phone had rung.
"I know what Lyle found today." Broots answered simply. "But that isn’t all. You have to meet me at the Centre, now."
He waited out the dead silence on the line while Sydney considered the matter. He knew Sydney’s feeling of pain and betrayal was warring with his lifelong habit of caring for Miss Parker. In the end a lifetime of habit won out and he agreed to make his way to the Centre, adding his warning that Broots would be an extremely unhappy man if his information was not earthshaking in importance.
Parker strode through the sterile hallways of the underground installation that only a select few knew about. She thought she was successfully masking her revulsion, and nausea, at returning to this house of horrors, but she was still glad that only a skeleton staff was awake and about at this hour of the night. She came to a metal door, set anonymously into the concrete walls without even a number to label it, and paused.
She’d already seen enough hurt and betrayed looks for one lifetime, was she ready to deal with one more? Did she have a choice? She took a deep breath for courage and unlocked the door, pushing it open and then jumping back as a container full of disgusting refuse plummeted down. Fortunately none of the repulsive stuff got on her. Parker delayed her entrance long enough to call for a janitor to clean up the mess. Already the smell was making her earlier nausea return.
"Emily, I presume?" She asked dryly, eyeing the petite brunette who glared at her with stubborn defiance and Jarod’s brown eyes. She felt her heart twist painfully to see his eyes set in her face, and eyeing her with such hostility.
"What the hell do you care what my name is?" The young woman might be petite, but she was courageous, Parker admitted to herself. She kept her reaction to a slightly raised eyebrow, and circled the girl assessingly.
"You can call me Miss Parker." She informed the prisoner, her lips twitching slightly as she awaited the girl’s response. Emily didn’t disappoint her.
"I’d prefer to call you –" Parker couldn’t restrain a grin of admiration at the audacity, and sheer vulgarity of Emily’s preferred name for her.
"I think you’d better stick to Miss Parker." She chuckled, confusing Emily who had obviously expected anger, not humor. "And don’t you think the "pail over the door" trick is a trifle childish?"
"If you’d spent the better part of a day with dark, handsome, and octopus hands, you’d arrange a suitable greeting for him too." Emily answered without the slightest sign of regret or intimidation.
Parker’s smile grew. She liked this girl. For the first time in weeks she was feeling halfway good, and it was Emily’s stubborn rebellion, and indomitable spirit that had brought it on. She was suddenly glad that she’d decided to rescue the girl.
"I believe you mean my brother, Lyle." Parker answered, eyes twinkling. "My suitable greeting for him is a gun, but I’m assuming that isn’t an option for you?"
"Whoa, talk about family feuds! As for a gun, don’t I wish! Nope, I just had to do the best I could with what I had on hand."
"Your best is very inventive." Parker approved. Emily noticed, however, that as friendly as the woman seemed she made sure she wasn’t within an arm’s length of her at any time. Her half formed hope that she could jump the woman and use her as a hostage to escape died aborning.
"Do you know where you are?" Parker asked curiously, wondering if Emily had any idea of just how serious her position was. Emily retained her antagonistic pose, but Parker saw a glimmer of fear in her brown eyes as she answered.
"Well, if this isn’t the Centre that stole my brothers then it’s a branch of it." She answered, hostility renewed by her reminder of captivity. She didn’t want to like this tall, and if she was honest, intimidating, woman. Emily reminded herself that the woman was the enemy, no matter how kind and welcoming her blue eyes seemed.
"You’re in the Centre’s satellite installation, Donoterase." Parker corrected her bluntly. "The Centre is quite interested in your family’s genetic makeup, and you’ve just volunteered to assist Project Gemini."
"Project Gemini?" Emily’s eyes narrowed as she turned over the implications of the name. "Twins? What’s that got to do with my family?"
"Not twins, dear, clones. The Centre appreciated Jarod so much that it was decided to make more of him." Emily’s frown grew as she eyed Parker grimly. It hadn’t escaped her attention that the woman had yet to refer to herself in a fashion connecting her to the Centre. On the other hand, she hadn’t offered to look the other way while Emily took off either.
"I just thought we should get acquainted, Emily, seeing as how we’re going to spend a fair amount of time together." Parker added, breaking the silence that had descended while Emily tried to puzzle out Parker’s position in all of this. "I’m the new head of Project Gemini. If you need anything, do be sure and let me know – I don’t know if I’ll get it for you, but who knows?" Her words were saying one thing, but her eyes were locked intently on Emily’s, willing the girl to see that she wasn’t what she appeared to be.
"A key to the door would be nice." Emily finally responded, leaning back on her bed with a sardonic grin on her lips. An undetectable sigh of relief escaped Parker’s lips. Emily’s questioning, and faintly challenging, look told Parker that she’d accepted that there was more going on that what was visible on the surface. Parker smiled a trifle sardonically herself.
"Sorry, dear, I’m afraid that’s not an option." She responded, her stance relaxing slightly as Emily showed no signs of rebuffing her hidden overture of friendship. "One thing I think I can do for you, though."
"What?" Emily asked warily.
"I can make sure my brother Lyle gets your "greeting" tomorrow when he goes into his office. I might even be able to get a picture of it. I owe the smug bastard a thing or two myself." Emily stared at the viciously vindictive expression on Parker’s face with a touch of awe. It dawned on her that the petty humiliations Lyle had heaped on her after her capture were nothing compared to what he must have done to Parker to rouse such hatred.
"Ah, that would be satisfying, but don’t you think that’s taking sibling rivalry just a bit far?" She asked hesitantly, unknowingly echoing Sydney’s sentiments voiced over a year earlier. Parker gave her a smile dripping with venom, although Emily realized that none of the acid was directed at her.
"Emily, you have no idea how far either my brother or I will take our personal battle. Suffice it to say that my dear brother crossed a line that he should have never even approached. He will live to regret it, but I’m not sure how much longer than that I’ll give him."
"Right." Emily said cautiously, giving Parker a look that was usually reserved for lunatics, or angry postal workers. Her lips were quirked slightly, though, as she went on. “Remind me not to piss you off, okay?"
Parker found herself laughing, rich, full bodied sound of utter delight, before she realized it.
"Oh, Emily, if only your brother had your sense of humor!" She finally managed, still chuckling.
"Wait!" Emily cried, leaping off of the bed as Parker made for the door. "You know one of my brothers?"
Parker swung around at Emily’s question, her heart dropping sickeningly as she realized that Emily didn’t know that Kyle was dead. The humor disappeared from her face as she realized that she was going to get to break the news of Kyle’s murder to his sister.
"I grew up with Jarod." She admitted briefly. "We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay? I’ve got to get going if I’m going to prepare Lyle’s office for tomorrow."
"Please!"
Parker regretted closing the door on that heartfelt plea, but she simply couldn’t face any more pain that day. She was glad that she’d finally gotten her initial meeting with Emily over with. She’d managed to bring herself up to date on the Gemini project while she was working up the courage to face Jarod’s sister, so the day wasn’t wasted, but it had still been a hell of a day and she was exhausted. Her momentary cheer in Emily’s cell had evaporated, and it was a drooping, and curiously emptied, woman who made her way out of the Donoterase installation.
"One more!" Jarod waved his hand vaguely at the shot glass in front of him.
"I think you’ve had more than enough, son."
It was a measure of Jarod’s level of inebriation that he didn’t recognize the voice that sounded behind him. He didn’t even feel afraid that the person shaking his shoulder might be a Sweeper. He simply didn’t care anymore. All he wanted was to numb the pain that seemed like it was going to consume him and leave nothing but cold ashes behind. He just blinked blearily at the older man who’d turned him around in his bar stool and now sighed in disappointment.
"Dad?" He asked foggily, sure he was hallucinating.
"Well, you can still see." His father noted dryly. "Now, can you walk?"
"Doan’ know." He admitted. "Doan wanna."
"Son, I don’t know what made you come here, but I promise you alcohol isn’t going to do a bit of good." Major Charles tossed a bill onto the counter to cover Jarod’s tab and pulled his nearly incapacitated son to his feet. Jarod wavered unsteadily, and the Major pulled one of Jarod’s arms over his shoulder, holding tightly to that hand, and supported him around the waist with his other arm.
"She killed it." Jarod mumbled, drunken tears rolling down his face. "Thought it would make it stop hurting, just for a little while, but it still hurts so much!"
Major Charles wondered who "she" and "it" were, but knew better than to question a drunk. He just propelled his weeping son into a waiting jeep, told J.J. to wait on his questions, and headed them out of the town and towards the cabin he’d rented in the boondocks. In the morning they’d find out what was going on, he assured J.J., (Jarod Junior), in the meantime the older Jarod needed peace and quiet. He did wonder, briefly, if his son knew what a price he was going to pay for his excesses the next morning. Considering the boy’s upbringing, he rather doubted it. Oh well, what better way to learn to avoid too much liquor than a monster hangover?
He had always feared that Jarod would have a nervous breakdown. He had spent so much of his life in this place that Sydney had never been able to believe he could live successfully outside of it. Jarod was brilliant, but emotionally unstable, he needed to have a keystone, something to ground him in reality when his fertile imagination soared, in order to survive all of his Pretends over the years. He had always wondered how Jarod had managed without his emotional anchor, but now Sydney knew he hadn’t. His foundation had been Miss Parker. Whether or not Jarod understood this wasn’t important. Sydney felt like slapping himself. How could he have been so blind?
‘We see what we want to see.’ A little voice in his head mocked. Was it really true, he wondered? Had he not wanted to see the truth? Had he deceived himself into believing he was the only reason Jarod stayed in contact with the Centre?
Sooner or later the Centre destroyed everybody, he mused. His eyes traveled over the inner walls of the elevator, finally coming to rest on the bullet hole in one corner. If you needed proof of how sick this place was, one quick look at the hole was enough. Who else would let such a reminder stay? He normally avoided looking at that morbid souvenir, but he was always aware of it. It made him feel uneasy and gave him a faintly sick feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he thought of it. He had often wondered if the little Miss Parker had really died with Catherine here in this elevator. If the young girl’s soul and spirit hadn’t been destroyed by witnessing the brutal murder of her mother. It hadn’t been too long after the shooting that Miss Parker had been sent away to a boarding school and after that he only caught the occasional glimpse of her, sometimes not even that for a year or two.
When she was 19 and came back to work for the Centre’s security the happy little girl was completely gone. She looked exactly like Catherine, except for her eyes. The eyes are the widow to the soul, after all, and she had locked up what was left of her soul during her years away. Sydney had been shocked when the Chairman had proudly told him that his daughter was about to join the Centre’s security team. He remembered praying that she would fail her tests, but she had passed every one with flying colors. From time to time Jarod had asked if she was still there, but she never came down to the Sim labs. Once Sydney had spoken to her as they passed each other in the halls. They had talked about the old times and during their short talk he mentioned that Jarod still asked him about her. She had totally ignored the statement, and after a bit more small talk, she had excused herself and simply walked away.
The elevator finally reached his destination. Sydney walked down the corridor to his office, hoping that Broots had a good reason to drag him back. The last few days had already been too much for him, and he desperately needed some good news, some hope. He briefly wondered if Jarod would ever call him again or if he would now simply disappear. Before he could follow this train of thought to its logical conclusion, he reached his office. Broots sat behind his desk and his laptop sat on top of it. The face of the younger man relaxed visibly as soon as he recognized Sydney and he waved him over.
"You won’t believe what I found!" Broots stated. He eagerly typed into the laptop. "You remember the gloating grin Lyle had this afternoon? Well, I had the a really bad feeling about it, so I sneaked into the mainframe." Grinning, he looked at the surprised and now curious expression of the man who leaned over his shoulder.
"You did." Sydney stated rather than asked. He didn’t ask any of the obvious questions, chief of which being ‘Why would you bother’? Broots nodded his head in agreement.
"I know now why he was so happy!" He continued his explanation. "Miss Parker handed the Triumvirate a sample of fetal tissue because Lyle demanded proof of the abortion and to give them some new cloning material. This was the reason they gave her the Gemini Project." Broots was too excited about his news to notice the older man’s expression of shock and revulsion. Sydney straightened up and took a step back. He felt like he was going to throw up. He was concentrating so completely on taking slow, even breaths to control his rebellious stomach that he only faintly heard "Set-up" and "Lyle". Sydney realized that Broots had never stopped talking.
"Could you repeat that, please?" Sydney asked, even though he wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear it.
"Sure." The technician answered a bit confused about Sydney’s request. "I had a feeling that something was going on here that nobody wanted us to know, but I was sure we needed to know." Broots explained again.
"After I saw Lyle’s smile I was sure it was vital that we find out what’s happening. So I searched for all the medical data relating to Miss Parker and Gemini. I came across a report abut the fetal tissue. I read it over and over again. It seemed legitimate, but something about it disturbed me. Then I found it! There was a backup file. I opened it and saw that it was another version of the same test. This was easy to find; too easy. Everything else is perfect, and this is a mistake nobody who could set up something like this would make. It makes sense only if this mistake was planned." Broots looked expectantly at the man behind him, but after he only received a shrug he turned back to the computer and continued.
"So I searched deeper. I came up with a series of e-mails between Miss Parker and the Triumvirate. The Triumvirate knows that the test is a fake. In other words, it’s a set up!" Triumphant, he turned around again. Sydney couldn’t seem to process this new information. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it without making any comment.
"Yep", Broots said, "I felt exactly the same." Once again he leaned over the small computer. After a few seconds of work he spoke again.
"Lyle has no access to any genuine Gemini data, so if he tries to use this information to turn the Triumvirate against Miss Parker, he will fail. Not only will he have come up with wrong information, but he violated a direct order and I have a feeling that the Triumvirate won’t take that lightly."
"But..." Sydney finally found his voice again. "But what about the baby?"
"That is the question." Broots answered. "I’m working on it now. I’ve found yet another file with data about a different sample of fetal tissue, and it seems to be the real thing this time." He added sadly.
Lyle was walking around in his apartment. He still could not believe that his sister had made such a big mistake. He was really lucky. She had told him never to underestimate her or Jarod again, but then she foolishly underestimated him.
He was excited, thinking about tomorrow when he would claim what was his. He was in charge and nobody else. The odds were good that he’d get Gemini and his sister. She would soon be completely at his mercy! He would control her; do whatever he wanted with her. She was beautiful; wasted, really, on the Lab-rat, but it had been for a higher good. Soon, however, she would belong only to him.
He stopped walking and imagined how he would touch her. He could almost smell her fear. He could feel his heart beating faster, his blood rushing through his veins. He closed his eyes and let her image rise up in his mind. He saw her creamy white skin and he wanted to touch her, to kiss her, to... he let out a deep growl. His eyes snapped open and he realized he was turned on too much to even think about sleep. He grabbed his coat and left his apartment, looking for someone to vent his raging hormones with. It wouldn’t be the same as toying with his lovely sister, but soon, very soon…
"Shouldn’t we wake him up?" JJ looked at his older brother with the kind of fascination only younger siblings could manage. "He’s sleeping kinda late, don’t you think?" He added with a hint of chastisement.
"He’ll wake up soon, son. When he does his head is going to hurt like the very devil too."
"Don’t – shout." The weak voice came from the man on the bed. Both the boy and the Major looked at him and both smiled with amusement at the way Jarod had his pillow wrapped protectively around his head.
"That pillow won’t do any good, boy. You need aspirin and plenty of liquids." The man told his miserable son.
"I need to die." Jarod countered painfully.
"Well, you aren’t going to, so quit complaining and make yourself presentable. I would have thought you, of all people, would have known better than to try and solve your problems with the help of the bottle." His father was lacking in sympathy, to say the least.
"I didn’t try to solve any problems;I got drunk." He corrected his father, not understanding the metaphor.
"Exactly my point. You should know getting drunk doesn’t accomplish anything."
"Sure it does." JJ interjected mischievously. "It made him suicidal."
"Go set the table." The Major ordered his youngest child, trying hard to control the twitching of his lips.
"Set it where?" Both boys responded with the same question at the same time. The older man sighed, feeling decidedly outnumbered.
"You, set out the plates, glasses, and silverware for breakfast." He ordered the grinning adolescent. "And you, shower, change into one of my outfits, and join us at the table." He ordered the moaning adult.
"Yes, Sir." JJ saluted smartly and giggled as he made his way to the kitchen.
"All right, Dad." Jarod sighed. "But when I die it will be your fault."
Major Charles sighed and wondered if he really wanted to be a father after all.
Within the hour he and the boy were demolishing the scrambled eggs and bacon he’d prepared while Jarod downed his fourth glass of orange juice. At least his oldest looked like he would live after all, the Major reflected with some humor.
"Okay, son. Tell me what’s so bad that you had to drink yourself under the table." He said, as his son poured a fifth glass of juice.
"I wasn’t under a table, I was sitting at the bar." Jarod frowned.
"A phrase, son. It’s just an expression mean very drunk." He wondered if he was going to spend the rest of his life explaining the obvious to his two brilliant sons.
"It was Miss Parker." Jarod said, his face contorted with pain.
"The woman you stayed behind on the airfield to help?" His father questioned.
"The pretty lady who asked me if I wanted to play like other kids?" The boy asked with keen interest.
"Yes." Jarod answered simply. "She and I – well, let’s just say that we like – liked each other a lot and one thing led to another and she ended up pregnant."
"Well, ask her to marry you and live happily ever after." Charles urged, recognizing the misery of love when he saw it. “At least you and she will already know how to evade the Centre Sweepers.”
"Marriage isn’t necessary, Dad." Jarod answered, his eyes filling with tears. "She had an abortion." He pushed away from the table and hurried into the room he’d awakened in. He didn’t really want to cry in front of his father or the boy.
"Damnation!" Charles sighed, his worst fear realized.
"No she didn’t!" The boy declared, his brows lowered in a dark glare. "She wouldn’t do something like that!"
"She might have, son. She isn’t always as kind as she seemed to you." Charles tried to explain. Clearly remembering her murderous intent towards him while she questioned him in a Centre holding cell.
"No! You’re wrong!" JJ insisted, jumping up from the table in his fury. "I know you’re wrong!" And he raced out of the kitchen as though the hounds of hell were on his heels.
The Major looked from one exit to the other, wondering which son needed him more. Finally, deciding J.J.’s disillusionment was far less devestating that Jarod’s, he left the younger boy to sort matters out alone, and went in to comfort his oldest child.
Broots and Sydney looked up as the door to the Sim lab they had claimed as their own slammed open. Lyle stood in the door, breathing hard, with fury in his eyes. Broots, always easily intimidated, shrank back and Sydney, working hard to contain the amusement he felt, straightened slowly. Mr. Lyle was dripping from head to toe with something green and slimy.
"Mr. Lyle! What on earth happened to you?" Sydney was proud of his control when not even a hint of a smile graced his lips.
"If I ever find out that either of you had anything to do with this, if I even find out that you knew about it and didn’t warn me, you will both be dead!!!" Lyle threatened them darkly. "Now, one of you will call the conference room and make sure that the Triumvirate knows I will be a few minutes late. I have to shower and change."
"Yes, Mr. Lyle." Broots whispered, no longer terrified of Lyle, but still terrified he was going to laugh out loud and get himself killed by the psychopath. In spite of his best efforts a giggle slipped out as the door shut behind Lyle. Then Sydney snickered, then the two of them were laughing helplessly.
"Oh, did you see him?" Sydney moaned, trying to regain control.
"His shoes squelched!" Broots managed.
"What was that stuff?" Sydney wiped his eyes.
"I don’t know. Slime?" Broots rested his head on the table before him, knowing that if he saw Sydney he’d start laughing again. "Oh, God, how am I going to keep from laughing the next time I see him?" He chortled.
"Shhh!" Sydney’s admonition broke midway with another chuckle. "I have to call the Triumvirate!" He tried desperately to compose himself while he dialed the number, and only his broad grin betrayed his continuing amusement.
"Hello, this is Sydney, from the Centre in Blue Cove, Delaware?" He spoke with as much gravity as he could muster. "I have a message for the Triumvirate from Mr. Lyle." He stopped and held the receiver away from his mouth while he laughed silently again.
"I’m afraid," He gasped, trying to go on. "He’ll be a few minutes late for their conference." Once again laughter overwhelmed him.
"I know that the Triumvirate doesn’t consider meetings a laughing matter." He defended himself cheerfully, "But you didn’t see Lyle and we did!" He disconnected the phone and dissolved into guffaws that were completely at odds with his normally reserved personality.
Lyle, grimly glaring daggers at each and every amused Centre employee he encountered, squelched his way to their family apartments at the Centre. At least he kept a change of clothes here for emergencies, he thought, trying to be optimistic.
Since his return to his apartment last night all he’d had to deal with were disasters. Some he knew were deliberate, some he wasn’t sure of. His sheets had been shortened in a childish practical joke. The hooker he’d picked up to help him release the pressure his imaginings had brought had fled the apartment screaming when it was discovered that along with the shortened sheets came a pair of garter snakes slipped into the bed. This morning, his car wouldn’t start, forcing him to call a tow truck and a taxi, and then, when he’d finally arrived at work, a pail of green Jell-O had doused him when he walked into his office. Someone was going to pay for his humiliation, he fumed.
Finally, cleaner and calmer from his shower, he discovered the final straw. Someone had replaced every piece of clothing he’d left in the suite with an identical piece that was two sizes too small. His options were to borrow something of his father’s, which would make him look like a little boy playing dress up, or to blow off the conference he’d called with the Triumvirate. Knowing his life expectancy would drop to nothing if he did the latter, Lyle pulled on his father’s smallest suit, belted it as tightly as he could, and made his way to the conference room.
When he entered the room the first thing he saw was Parker’s amused smile and it took all of his self-control to keep him from leaping over the table and throttling her. Only the reminder that after this meeting she would be his to do with as he would kept him from losing it.
"New style, Lyle?" She purred sarcastically. "I’m sorry, but I just don’t think you can pull off the baggy look."
"Mr. Lyle!" Mutumbo’s faintly accented voice came from one of the large, flat TV screens on the walls of the overseas conference room. "You do realize that we do not take it lightly when we are kept waiting, particularly when you called the meeting!"
"I’m truly sorry, sir." Lyle apologized through gritted teeth. "Apparently someone has decided to play a few – practical jokes on me."
"We aren’t interested in your excuses." Mutumbo growled. "Now, what is this information that you feel we simply must know about right away?"
Smiling a predatory smile Lyle began to explain his findings in the date base. About half way through his explanation he realized that Parker wasn’t looking at all concerned. In fact, she was smiling her own predatory smile. Lyle felt the first twinges of unease looking at her smug grin.
"So, you see, she’s betrayed you. I’ll bet she didn’t even have the abortion at all!" Lyle finished on a tone of faint desperation, wondering what was wrong.
"The only person I see who has betrayed us is you. Were you not given specific orders to remain away from anything concerning the Gemini project?" Mutumbo snarled menacingly.
"Well, yes, but I –"
"You violated a direct order!" Mutumbo’s voice cracked like a whip. "You presumed to think you knew better than the Triumvirate!"
"Ah, well, I –"
"Silence!" Mutumbo thundered, the apparent spokesman for the group. "It would appear that your suspicions were right, Miss Parker." Mutumbo acknowledged heavily to the smirking woman. Lyle’s vision turned red as he realized his sister had set him up.
"Lyle, only your relationship to the chairman has saved you from our full wrath. You will return to your assigned duties and any further violations of a direct order from this body will result in your immediate termination – is that understood?"
Lyle, realizing that termination in this sense meant death and not unemployment, nodded his head with apparent submission.
"Very good, you may leave." Mutumbo dismissed him. "Parker, we would like to discuss your proposals for Project Gemini further."
Lyle was so angry that he literally couldn’t think straight. He slammed out of the office and a few minutes later out of the Centre itself, trying desperately to come up with a plan for revenge. His temper wasn’t improved in the slightest when he realized ten minutes later that he wasn’t wearing his own clothing and didn’t even have the change to call for a taxi to take him home.
Parker, her face carefully arranged in respectful lines, presented her proposal to the Triumvirate, while rejoicing at her brother’s downfall. She wasn’t satisfied yet that he’d been adequately humiliated for his treachery towards her, but it was a start.
Emily looked around the barren, cement room and sighed. There was absolutely nothing of interest, in fact there was nothing in the 10' x 12' room except her steel frame twin bed and a chemical toilet in the corner. She wondered why they hadn’t at least left her a book, even a book of physics would be preferable to this mind numbing boredom.
She laid back on the bed and clasped her hands behind her head. Well, she could always try again to puzzle out the actions of that strange woman, Miss Parker. She had informed Emily that she was in charge of this Project Gemini thing, and then she promised to help her to get revenge on the man who’d kidnapped her in the first place. She’d seemed nice, in a coldly reserved sort of way, but she was a stranger, and connected to this hellhole, and Emily wasn’t about to trust anyone connected with this place.
On the other hand, there was a faintly lost and lonely look in her eyes that Emily empathized with. Somehow she knew that Miss Parker had no one in her life to trust, much like Emily at this point in time, and she was drawn to that need in the tall brunette. Emily never questioned her insights, she’d always had a gift for getting into the heads of the people around her. She knew who she could trust, who to avoid, and most of all, who was hurting and needed her help. Parker, for all that she was her jailer, needed her help – Emily just wondered if Parker realized it.
She sighed briefly. Until the woman returned there wasn’t anything more she could do. No one spoke to her, her meals, if you could call them meals, were shoved into the room through a slot in the door, and she was utterly ignored. She wondered, and not for the first time, either, just how people could work for an organization like the Centre. As near as she could tell its only purpose was to spread misery and heartbreak.
"What, taking a coffee break so soon?" She asked with saccharine sweetness. "Maybe you could include me in on the joke?"
Inwardly she was pleased with the diversion her practical jokes on Lyle had provided. She knew just how they felt, really. She had already watched the DSA of Lyle’s journey to the family apartment within the Centre and he’d been madder than a wet hen. She just wished that she could have seen her dear brother’s face when he realized his clothes were completely worthless to him. And maybe this entertainment would mitigate, in part, the pain her subterfuge was causing them. Even though it was their own fault for believing her in the first place.
At the sound of Miss Parker’s voice Broots stumbled backward spilling his coffee.
"M – Miss Parker." he stammered.
Slowly Sydney put the coffee cup onto the table.
"Miss Parker. What can we do for you?" He asked her warily.
‘Yes,’ Parker thought painfully. ‘His disapproval does still hurt. Damn! I wish I could make him understand.’ She felt the pressure of rising tears in the back of her throat, and determinedly swallowed them back.
He narrowed his eyes and studied her carefully as she approached them. Except for the fact that her blouse was worn loosely outside of her skirt, instead of tucked in as it usually was, she looked like always; a dark navy blue miniskirt with a matching blazer and light blue satin blouse, no jewelry, except her usual square ring on her index finger and the watch from her mother. Of course, her hair and makeup were as immaculate as always. But he had worked closely with her for several years and he could tell that all was not as well as she tried to make it appear. Even someone who barely knew her would be able to tell she was under a lot of stress if they just looked closely enough. Sydney felt a twinge of concern.
‘Get a grip!’ He ordered himself firmly, ‘She isn’t who you always thought she was. She can take care of herself. Besides, she deserves every moment of pain she might be feeling.’ Immediately he felt guilty for his thoughts. Despite her harsh voice and her cool appearance she looked like a lost little girl underneath.
"I’m looking for my brother." Miss Parker replied and waved the manila folder in her hand. "I have a profile done on Jarod for him. It comes directly from the Triumvirate, based on the DSAs of his time at the Centre and the Pretends he’s done since – after escaping from the Centre, again." When all she got from the two men were identically baffled shrugs, she handed the folder to Sydney.
"Maybe he needed to change his clothes again." She speculated, with what Sydney would have sworn was an amused and devilish glint in her eyes – if he hadn’t known her better than that, that is.
He wondered what she knew that he didn’t. Hadn’t Lyle already gone to the family apartments to shower and change? Perhaps Broots and he had missed out on some of the fun. But how was it that Parker seemed to know more about this than they did? Could she have – no. Sydney dismissed the thought almost as fast as it surfaced. There was no way Parker would have… His examination of her sharpened slightly as he examined the possibilities.
Miss Parker tried to ignore the way Sydney studied her, but she felt more and more uneasy under his intense stare. She knew she had to get out of there soon, before she broke down and confided in the man that she trusted far more than she did her own father. If she did that then all of her sacrifices would have been wasted.
"Since Lyle isn’t here I’ll leave this with you. Give it to him when he comes back." With these words she handed Sydney the slim yellow folder and headed back towards the door.
"Oh, and if he decides to come back today," she added, stopping just short the door. "Please tell him that he shouldn’t bother to come to my old office. I’m just going there to grab a few things and then I’ll be tied up at Donoterase for the rest of the day." Miss Parker turned to leave the office then. It took all her of willpower to saunter coolly and not run out, like she wanted to. As soon as the doors closed behind her she stepped to one side and leaned against the wall. Closing her eyes, she realized how close she had come to losing it. She promised herself that she would avoid her former colleagues as much as possible without raising anyone’s suspicion. Maybe she should just move her office permanently to Donoterase.
After a few seconds she felt calm enough to make her way to her office. Inside her room it was dark, as always, with only a small light on the desk giving off a dim glow. She walked over to the desk and picked up a picture in a square, silver frame. She looked at it for what must have been the millionth time. The woman, who looked exactly like her, held a baby in her arms. Lost in her thoughts she stroked the woman’s face with her thumb. Looking at this picture was nearly like looking into a mirror – except… She felt a tear sliding down her cheek. With an unconscious sigh she put the frame down, and headed to the adjoining bathroom. Once there she kept her mind blank while she carefully wiped the tears away without destroying her makeup.
‘If it’s possible,’ she thought. ’I look even worse than I did this morning’. All she wanted was to drive home and to curl up in ball and pray that this was just a bad dream, but she knew that wasn’t an option. With a deep sigh she went back into her office, unaware of the dark, shadowy figure watching her from the vent.
Lyle was in his apartment, still fuming. The smug grin of the taxi driver had been the last blow to his bruised ego. All he had wanted was to hit the man and wipe the grin from his face. Since he hadn’t remembered to transfer his wallet to his father’s outfit he had no money. He was forced to ask the cabby to come up to his apartment with him so he could pay him. It wasn’t until he opened the door that he remembered the condition he’d left it in. The driver had turned around twice, double checking the chaos he saw.
"Wild party?" He had asked, amusement radiating from him like heat from a fire. The idiot had no idea how close he had come to losing his life.
Finally, though, he was alone and he knew he needed to calm down. He hurriedly stripped off the oversized clothes he had borrowed from his father. Then he had carefully opened the closet door but nothing happened. He sighed, relieved.
‘Am I right?’ He wondered. ‘Was this really her work? Had she really been in his apartment while he wasted his time trying to find a hooker that resembled her? Had she been here and placed the garter snakes in his bed?’
‘Yes, she had been,’ he decided. ‘Here in my bedroom.’ He turned towards his bed and looked at the shortened sheets.
‘She touched those sheets, she had been so close –‘ With a low growl he headed towards his bathroom. He knew he needed a quick, cold shower before he could drive back to the Centre. He glanced at the big mirror in the corner of the room.
‘Better make it a long cold shower.’ He amended.
JJ was in the front yard of the house. He had been so happy at first that they had found Jarod. The fact that he was drunk was pretty funny too. Jarod was the first really drunk person he had seen. He stifled a giggle as he remembered how strangely Jarod had talked. The best part, though, had been seeing him in the morning hiding under his pillow.
He had looked forward to talking with Jarod, he realized, sobering quickly. And he had wanted to share some ice cream with him again, even though his new father wouldn’t let him have it for breakfast. Breakfast… He thought about the conversation at the table during breakfast. No matter what Jarod and his father believed, he knew they were wrong. His father claimed that she was not always as kind as he remembered, and maybe he was right, but she wouldn’t hurt a baby, of that JJ was certain.
The boy sat on the wooden fence and let his feet dangle, recalling the time he had first seen her. It had been in that empty hallway, and she had looked at him as if he was a ghost. He had even wondered, for a split second, if she was going to faint. Later she had come to his new room inside the Centre.
He couldn’t remember ever being that scared; not in his entire life. He’d been on the floor, trying to fight back his tears of fear and loneliness when he heard the door to his room open. Of course he remembered her immediately, and he wondered what she wanted him to do. But she hadn’t said or done anything he expected her to. She didn’t ask him to work but instead she asked him questions that he simply couldn’t answer. What did he want to do?
It was as if she didn’t know that he wasn’t allowed to want anything, just to work. And did he want to play? He hadn’t even been sure what play was. He had been sitting on his cot by then and she came down on his level so he could see in her eyes. She had spoken in a low, reassuring voice and even in the dim light of the room he could see the sparkle in her beautiful blue eyes. Somehow her kindness just made him feel worse, and even though he knew that Raines would be very angry with him, he’d started to cry again.
Never in his whole life he would forget how he had felt when she joined him on the cot and took him her arms. Nobody had ever touched him like that. For a moment he wanted to pull away, but then he leaned against her and he felt safe somehow. He wasn’t listening to her words anymore only concentrating on the warm feelings. He had wanted the moment to last forever, but, all too soon, Raines had come and broken the spell.
JJ had hoped he’d see her again, but he’d only caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror of the truck when Jarod had rescued him and she had captured their father. And then he had seen her on the airfield. He’d had a clear view through the open door of the plane. He had seen her running towards the plane, and Jarod shouting at her. She had shouted back and ignored him, running towards her father. Then things had happened so fast that he could barely remember them. All he had heard was a single gun shot and she had flown in the arms of the father. Sadly JJ shook his head. He wished he could remove that image from his memory. She’d looked so frail, so hurt and her father and Jarod had looked so shocked and frightened.
Shaking off those frightening memories he made himself recall more of her words in his room. She’d told him that she had never let the sad little boy she’d grown up with know how much she cared about him. Now he realized that the boy she referred to had been his brother Jarod. Chewing on his bottom lip he reviewed the whole conversation he had with her in the cell again.
‘Nope.’ He decided adamantly. ‘There is no way that she would never do anything like what my father and brother believe she did, and Jarod’s just stupid to believe she would. Isn’t he supposed to be a Pretender too?’
The boy hopped down from the fence and walked inside, determined to make them see his point. He had no idea how he was going to accomplish that; he knew that Jarod would need more than his gut feeling that she wasn’t as cold as they thought she was. He looked around in the living room tying to come up with a good plan as he a beeping sounded from the laptop that sat in the heavy table in front on the fireplace. Curiously he walked over and opened it. A little mailbox had a flag up and the words "you have mail" written by it. Wondering what it meant, he clicked on the mail icon.
His childhood friend was sad, almost heartbroken, but fighting it with all of her not inconsiderable strength. She finally felt like she knew exactly how her mother had felt, and she wished her mother were here to share those feelings with her. Angelo stretched his empathic senses, reaching for Broots and Sydney. Did they know?
No. Not only did they not realize her pain, they didn’t realize that their lack of understanding was part of the reason Parker felt she had to leave. Why she felt so alone and like she carried the weight of the world on her slender shoulders. As he watched her, and touched the feelings of Sydney and Broots, he realized that he had to tell Jarod, his other childhood friend. Parker needed Jarod, more than either of them would admit. And Jarod needed Parker just as much. Somehow, in a way that not even Angelo with his extraordinary ability to empathize understood, Parker and Jarod were connected and always would be.
Jarod might be devastated and furious at Parker, Parker might be bereft and furious at Jarod, but they still longed for the other. They each suffered more from the estrangement than they did from the cause of their rift. As Parker strode out of the room, no hint of her pain revealed in her steady, confident walk, Angelo wiggled out of the vent and went to her computer. Once it was booted and connected to the Internet Angelo’s fingers flew, rivaling Broots in their speed, and he smiled a secret smile of glee as he hit the "send" key. There! Now the two would have to make up and join forces. Now things would get better at last.
In the living room of the remote cabin JJ read the message Angelo had sent only moments after he’d composed it. As he read it a grin grew on his face. ‘This’ll show them!’ He thought. ‘This’ll teach them not to be so judgmental!’ He all but skipped as he headed for his brother’s room.
"No, Dad! She can rot in hell before I ever try to help her again." JJ stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Jarod’s angry shout.
"Son, you obviously care for her very much." Charles tried again, exasperation showing in his voice. "You need to hear her side, for your own sake if nothing else."
"No." Jarod’s voice was no longer a shout, but it was still filled with fury, hurt, and determination. "Never again. I won’t play their games anymore – I’m finished with the lot of them."
JJ could barely hear their father trying to reason with Jarod over the roaring in his ears. He had never been this angry in his life. How could Jarod give up on her so easily? How could he when anyone could see she needed their love and support, not anger? He spun on his heel and returned to the living room and scribbled out a quick note which he propped on the open laptop. Then, prompted by an impulse that he didn’t understand, he grabbed his brother’s cell phone from the open briefcase and was out of the cabin and long gone before Jarod and Major Charles ended their debate.
A cold shower had done nothing to soothe Lyle’s anger and bruised ego. In fact, the longer he thought about the atrocities that he knew his sister had inflicted on him, the angrier he got. When he finally got out and dressed he didn’t choose an expensive suit, but instead grabbed jeans and a simple turtleneck sweater. The Lyle who stalked to his expensive sports car and squealed out of the garage looked nothing like the smoothly sophisticated man he usually portrayed.
Parker had gone too far, and she was going to pay! That was the only thought Lyle could complete. She’d humiliated him and he was going to make her beg him to kill her before he was through. He didn’t even consider that Parker was the Triumvirate’s fair-haired child this week, or that they would undoubtedly order his termination once they discovered what he planned to do. No, all he could think about was inflicting enough pain on his sister to restore his confidence and pride.
Even in the insanity of his anger Lyle knew better than to attempt to carry out his plans for Parker at the Centre. No, he was going to wait for her to come home tonight. And then…
Emily looked at the tall woman with tears in her eyes.
"You’re sure?" She asked, one tear spilling over to track down her cheek. "Kyle is dead? This isn’t some sick game to make me do what you want, is it?"
Parker sighed, wondering why it was that everyone she seemed to speak to lately thought she was such a bitch. It didn’t ease her pain a bit to know that Emily’s suspicion was really directed at the Centre, and not her personally, or that it was completely justified.
"No, it’s true." She assured Emily sympathetically. "He was murdered and Jarod had his organs donated. His heart went to a thirteen year old boy who would be dead by now if it hadn’t." She told her, sure that Emily would be touched by Jarod’s kindness.
"J-Jarod? He’s still okay?" Emily asked, her tough stance of the night before vanished in her grief for the brother she didn’t even remember.
"Jarod’s fine." Parker said brusquely. "He’s out there somewhere, giving candy to babies, helping little old ladies cross the street, and making a nuisance of himself in general."
Emily smiled just a little.
"Why do you pretend to hate my brother so much?" She asked curiously. "Do you really fool people with that act?"
Parker looked at her sharply.
"Look, maybe other people think you eat kittens for breakfast, but I can tell you aren’t anywhere near as nasty as you try to look."
Parker grinned mirthlessly. "Don’t bet on it." She told the girl sardonically. "I’m as nasty as I have to be."
Emily studied her carefully before nodding her head. "Yes, I can see that you believe that and I know that you are quite capable of doing whatever you might feel is necessary. You aren’t cold, though, no matter how much you might try to tell yourself you are. And you’re hurting right now."
"Don’t be a moron!" Parker snapped, but a guilty flush rose to her cheeks, telling Emily that she’d struck home. "I’m fine. You’re the one who needs help."
Emily looked assessingly around the room.
"Yes, I’ll agree to that. You got any ideas?" She nearly jumped off the bed in shock when Parker sat down next to her.
"Well, you could always cooperate with us, like a good little lab rat, and we might just start granting you a few luxuries." She suggested.
She looked for all the world like she was sitting casually, but Emily’s sharp eyes picked up her subtle movements as she hid something under Emily’s thin pillow.
"I might." Emily went along with Parker’s diversionary conversation guardedly. "I don’t suppose I could get a book or two?"
Parker raised a considering brow. "Perhaps." She allowed cautiously. "What kind of books?"
"Well, I wouldn’t mind the books that taught MacGyver how to make a bomb out of spit and chewing gum." Emily said wistfully, surprising a laugh out of Parker. "But I’d settle for almost anything. Romance, Mystery, Romantic Mystery…" Parker laughed again and shook her head.
"You really are a brat, aren’t you?" She marveled.
"Hey! I’ve never been a lab rat before." Emily protested. "How am I supposed to know how they act? I didn’t even pass biology in school."
Parker was about to make a remark concerning Emily’s inability to dissect the frogs, but her phone rang before she’d done more than open her mouth. A puzzled frown creased her brow as she pulled it out and flipped it open.
"What?" She demanded, causing Emily to raise her brows. "You have my what at the station?" Parker demanded, her voice taking on a slightly shrill tone. Emily strained her ears and heard a few words from the other end.
"...son...lost...runaway..." The expression on Parker’s face was priceless – the same pole-axed look that a sheep would get when it’s normally placid stream became a raging river. Incomprehension, and utter denial were only two of the strongest emotions radiating from the beleaguered woman. Some instinct seemed to take over her thinking processes for her, because Parker finally nodded her acquiescence to this new joke the universe was playing on her.
"Fine – okay, fine!" She snapped, finally shutting the voluble sergeant up. "I’ll be right there to pick my – son – up. Just keep your pants on, okay?" She snapped the phone shut, cutting the officer up in mid-comment, and stood abruptly.
"Your son needs you?" Emily asked innocently, knowing from the glare on Parker’s face that something was skewed in this situation and desperately curious about what it was.
"Apparently." Parker affirmed dryly. "Which is nothing short of a miracle, when you consider that I’ve never had a child."
Emily laughed appreciatively as Parker headed for the door. Parker, her hand on the knob, turned towards Emily one last time.
"Remember what I said about cooperating, okay, Emily? It could do wonders for your situation here." Emily’s face became serious.
"I’ll remember." She assured Parker, determined to examine the package she had left under her pillow as soon as possible. "Take care – “ she added sympathetically. “You know how children can be."
"Actually, I don’t." Parker countered wryly. "But I suspect I’m about to find out.
Alone again, Emily went over the events of this visit, trying to glean every nuance of information from it before she examined her "gift" from her jailer.
Outside Parker’s house Lyle lay concealed by a convenient bush and watched her place with the intensity of a mountain lion waiting for prey. He’d left her a few of his own "practical jokes" any one of which would leave her incapacitated for him to capture. After that? Well, after that he was going to let his fertile, twisted, and sadistic imagination take over. He gloated, kept warm on the cool fall day by his sick plans.
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