|
The collision was unavoidable. He ran around the corner of the
building from the right, she came barreling from the left. And
almost before either party knew it they were staring at each other
from their prone positions on the pavement.
"What! What are you doing? Outta my way," the young woman glanced
over her shoulder. Her lips were parted and an expression of worry
filled her eyes.
"I'm sorry! I didn't see you in the dark," the man replied, also
looking over his own shoulder as he spoke and his breath came
rapidly.
"That's what I'm counting on," she replied as he helped her
somewhat clumsily to her feet.
He didn't immediately release the hand he had offered in
assistance. "You're frightened," he said, giving her a questioning
look.
She pulled away. "Look, I'm sorry but, if you don't let me
go, we'll both be in trouble."
He blocked her path. "You don't want to go that way," he assured
her. A mutual understanding passed swiftly between them. Both were
running. Both needed to hide. Neither had time to explain. "Come
on."
They ran down a dark alleyway, hand in hand, so as not to lose
each other in the dark. The sounds of footsteps behind them reached
their ears.
"Wait! Down there," she pointed.
In another moment, the man was replacing the manhole cover. He
gripped the cold rungs and climbed down the ladder. The man and
woman huddled in the dark at the bottom of the metal ladder. A
chilly draft blew up from the sewage tunnel and a pungent smell came
with it. They held their breath and listened in silence to the
noises overhead.
Footsteps echoed above and then the noises of an engine followed.
A car door slammed and a male voice that seemed louder than the rest
bellowed, "Don't you tell me you've lost her!" There was a muffled
reply. "What do you mean a woman stopped you? Who is she?" There was
a sudden shift in the speaker's voice and his tone was that of
controlled fear, "I advise you ma'am to put down your weapon. FBI.
Agent Trelawney." He apparently was showing some ID. "Obstruction of
justice is a serious offense."
A voice edged with ice but clearly feminine floated down to them.
"If you have your sidekick put away his gun, I will."
There was a pause.
"Hearney. Put it away," Trelawney directed. "We're searching for
a woman in her mid-twenties. Brown hair, brown eyes. Her name is Liz
Marx and she's a very dangerous terrorist. If you've seen
her..."
"I haven't. My sweepers have been combing this area looking for a
man named Jarod. We would have noticed her. Have you seen him?" She
must have held up a photo. "He's wanted for everything in the
book."
"No," Trelawney's voice seemed calmer now. "But we'd be the first
to know. And your name was...?"
"No time to chit chat. I have a job to do. Let's move, people!"
The footsteps began again and the sound of the engine roaring to
life until these sounds blended together creating a din and then
grew fainter and fainter until they died softly away into the
night.
There was a soft sound as the two listeners below stopped holding
their breaths. The woman squinted as a bright light suddenly flashed
in her face, displaying her bright brown eyes and the similar tone
of her hair plainly to the man who held the flashlight. She blinked
and held up her hands to shield her face and then quavered, "Jarod?
It's not what you think."
The man, who did not object to being called Jarod, replied, "Who
are you?"
"My name is Angela Bennett. I accidentally discovered a group of
computer terrorists called the Praetorians. They erased my life.
They made me into a criminal."
"Why?"
"They thought I knew something." Angela clutched the front of her
sweater and twisted it. "But I didn't. But now I want some answers
and I'm not going to stop until I get my life back."
"And I should believe this because...?"
"Because if it happened to me, it could happen to you. To anyone.
They have to be stopped," she replied, earnestly. "And you can't be
perfect, you weren't hiding down here to keep me company."
Jarod redirected the flashlight beam so that it no longer glared
in her face.
Taking heart at this action, Angela continued. "Look, I know it
sounds crazy. Running from a secret organization...on some type of
quest for the truth." She pressed her hands together, attempting to
steady her nerves.
Jarod made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Not really."
Angela looked at him in surprise. "You mean you actually believe
me?"
Jarod grinned and said, "It's good to meet you, Angela."
Angela slowly returned the smile. "It's good to meet you too,
Jarod. If I may call you that." Her eyes had finally adjusted to the
light and she saw his eyes were brown and his smile, genuine. He
didn't object to the name.
They shook hands.
"Why do you believe me, Jarod?" Angela asked, pointedly.
Jarod sniffed and said, "Why don't I explain in a place where
there's more pleasant aromas?"
"Hmm," Angela breathed in the fragrant odor from her cup of
gourmet coffee and then remarked, "Now that that's what I call a
pleasant aroma."
The waiter set a plate of salad in front of her and then spooned
the dressing of her choice onto the plate. "Are you ready to order?"
the waiter asked.
"Yes," Jarod replied, coming out from behind his menu. "I have a
question for you though. This dish...Min...a... stroni," he tapped
the menu. "Now what exactly is it?"
"Um, Jarod," Angela interrupted. "Have you ever eaten Italian
before? That's a type of vegetable soup."
"Oh," Jarod said, "I'll have that."
The waiter nodded and took their menus away.
"So now are you
going to explain why a man like you who was just hiding with me in
the sewer a few hours ago has the cash to buy me a change of clothes
and now treat me to this fancy dinner?"
"If you tell me...who is Trelawney?"
Angela shook her head and took another bite of salad. "I've
already told you, Jarod. You know as much as you'll ever want to
know about him. What about you? I don't even know your last
name."
Jarod grew serious. He folded his hands under his chin and
replied, "I don't know it. When I was very young, I was taken from
my family. The people who took care of me after that did everything
to make me forget them."
"I'm sorry," Angela said, shaking her head sympathetically.
"It must be awful. Forced to forget your family." She looked at
Jarod and asked, "So that woman who was looking for you wasn't
really from any government agency anymore than Trelawney was?"
"No," Jarod replied. "Her name is Miss Parker. She works for a
corporation known as the Centre. That's where I grew up."
"Those people took you away from your family. Why would they do
something like that?"
"I'm what they call a Pretender. I have the unique ability to
become anyone I want to be. While at the Centre, they made me do
simulations and then..." Jarod paused. "They used and sold the
results of the simulations to make terrible things happen." A sad
look clouded Jarod's eyes.
"Hey look, Jarod. It's okay." Angela picked up on some of
what Jarod was feeling. "Don't blame yourself. You couldn't have
known. You don't have to talk about it. We'll change the subject."
She took a sip of coffee then tilted her head and asked, "Can you
really be anything?"
Jarod nodded.
"A race car driver?"
Nod.
"Um..." Angela looked up at the ceiling trying to think of
something harder. "A doctor? A lawyer?"
Nod. Nod.
"An astronaut?"
Once again, Jarod nodded and he was smiling again.
Angela burst into laughter. "No way!" she said. Then, she
realized he was absolutely serious. "You really must be a genius
then. And you do this while you're searching for your family?"
"Well," Jarod replied. "When I pretend, it's to help people."
It was Angela's turn to look serious. "Jarod," she asked. "Could
you help me get to a computer?"
"Broots!" Miss Parker's voice came over the phone so loudly that
the computer tech flinched and held the phone away from his ear.
"Um, speak...speaking," Broots muttered reluctantly.
"I want you to pull up everything you can about a Liz Marx and an
agent of the FBI. I think he was called Trelawney. Understood?"
Broots had picked up a pencil and was trying to scribble the key
words down while balancing the phone between his head and shoulder.
"Broots!" Miss Parker cried, impatiently. "Are you there?"
"Yeah, yeah. Marx. FBI. Tray...no Tra-lawn-ee. Trelawney. I got
it. How's Sydney?" Broots asked. The phone slipped out from under
his chin and he made a grab for it, catching it before it could hit
the floor. He half wished that he had been allowed to go on the trip
with Miss Parker and Sydney, but the other half was content to stay
in the relative safety of the Tech room.
"Oh. Just as analytical as ever. Get to work. I'll call you in
one hour."
Miss Parker's phone snapped shut and she turned to Sydney.
Sydney shook his head. "I do not see the point of this, Miss
Parker. Jarod is not the type of person to shield criminals."
"No," Miss Parker agreed. "But he protects the innocent."
Angela swiftly ran her fingers over the keys of the computer like
it was an old friend. The words "Online chat--Sorcerer" appeared at
the bottom of the screen as she accessed a private chat room. A chat
screen appeared and blue words scrolled up on the screen as a
cultured voice was heard over the connection along with the words
that had appeared. Sorcerer: Angel?
Angela, where have you been? Did you do it?
Angela moved
the small microphone on top of the computer to the position where it
could best pick up her voice and spoke into it. Her own spoken words
flashed up on the screen in red. Angel:
No. Ran into Praetorians. Close shave.
Sorcerer: Are you alright?
Angel: I'm fine. I met this man. Maybe he can
help us.
Sorcerer: Hold on, Ang. Back up! Now who is
this man?
Angel: Hard to explain. In 1963 a corporation
known as the Centre isolated him for their illegal research. They
exploited him. But now he's escaped. And running...like
me.
Sorcerer: I see. But why did the Centre want
him? What's his name?
Angel: His name is Jarod and he is a genius.
Calls himself a Pretender. He says he can become anyone he wants to
be. He's looking for his parents.
Sorcerer: Ah, I see. Who's helping who,
Angel? Can you trust him?
Angel: Can you trust a man who has a bagful of
different IDs? And you'll never guess how he got us in here to use
the computers. He *pretended* to be the new history professor. At
least that part of his story checks out. I don't know. I'd like
to...but maybe it's just wishful thinking.
Sorcerer: Or maybe your problem with not
trusting anyone is surfacing.
Angela shrugged
and wriggled slightly in her chair before answering.
Angel: Do I have any reason to???
Sorcerer: You use different IDs yourself on
occasion. You must believe some part of his story. Why else would
you have asked him to help you? What does your gut say, Angel?
Angel: It says...I can.
Sorcerer: Well then, find out if he's
interested in helping our cause. We've lost some time. Contact me as
soon as you know and I'll have another plan ready for you...I trust
you, Angel.
Angel: Okay...Thanks.
Angela smiled
and then logged off the computer.
PRAETORIAN GUARD FIELD OFFICE
Trelawney was
staring at a life-size computer projection on the wall of Angela
Bennett's face. "She gets more and more clever," he mused half to
himself and half to Anna Kelly, his lovely personal assistant. His
eyes were fixed on the face in admiration. Kelly walked up
behind Trelawney looking at the larger than life face with a
concealed jealousy and remarked, "She got away this time, but I know
her signature. The work she does...the pattern formed of her
actions. Her fingerprint. She can't hide forever. I'll trace her."
"And yet," Trelawney breathed. "The enemy is stalked. The enemy
escapes. Each time she learns something new."
"She makes mistakes," Hearney said, joining the conversation with
a bored tone. He privately thought that Trelawney admired that girl
too much. He scowled at the picture as if it was only good for
target practice and then walked off to look at another computer
screen.
"Kelly," Trelawney motioned and immediately Anna went and took a
seat at a computer, raising her fingers over the keyboard and looked
over at him with a questioning readiness.
"What have you found on the woman who hampered our capture of my
enemy?"
Anna's fingers fell to the board and a hundred clicking noises
arose from it. The wall projection now changed to an auburn-haired
woman who was standing on the street conversing with a white-haired
man.
Kelly's voice now narrated the pictures on the screen. "Her name
is Miss Parker and her companion is a man named, Sydney. They
originate from a place called Blue Cove, Delaware. Their purpose..."
The projection changed to Miss Parker holding up a photo and
questioning someone walking across the street.
"To find and capture a man known only as Jarod. Jarod is on a
mission to defend the innocent and he is a genius. What he is
capable of and his whereabouts we were unable to attain. Which can
mean only one thing." Trelawney interrupted her. "He's good at
hiding and his personal records are still being kept on what
destroys and ravages the forests each year, but makes the lumbermen
richer. Paper."
Kelly nodded.
The projection changed once more to a still of Miss Parker's
face. "Do you want her deleted, sir?" she asked, her eyes gleamed at
the prospect while her face remained immobile.
"Why bother? She knows nothing." Trelawney frowned, picking up a
device and clicking backwards and forwards through the pictures they
had just viewed.
Kelly pushed her chair away from the computer and studied him as
she awaited instructions.
Trelawney spoke. "This Jarod character...he sounds familiar, does
he not? Defending the innocent? Doesn't it remind you of our elusive
but brilliant escape artist? And how strange of them to disappear
from their pursuing parties at the exact same time." He looked at
Kelly.
She listened in silence, awaiting the point he was trying to
make. She looked back at him in expectancy. "So--" she began. She
stopped suddenly and adjusted the headphones on her head in a
listening attitude.
"What?" Trelawney asked. "What is it?"
Anna Kelly stood up. "Operation Green has entered the third
phase."
Trelawney motioned across the room to Hearney. "Let's go." The
three headed out the door.
Angela handed Jarod a printout from a newspaper article. "This is
Albert Fitzgerald, billionaire. And this is his daughter, Hannah."
She handed him a photograph of a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl
riding a bicycle.
"She's been kidnapped," Jarod stated.
"Yes," Angela nodded, raising her eyebrows. "How did you
know?"
Jarod pulled a red notebook from his jacket pocket. He opened it
to a page and pointed to the same picture of Hannah. "Something I
was working on," he explained. "When I heard she'd been kidnapped
and how hard her father had been searching for her I knew I had to
help. But how are you involved in all this? What does it have to do
with the Praetorians?"
"It has everything to do with the Praetorians," Angela assured
him. "I was supposed to prevent the kidnapping from happening. But
when I went to get Hannah the Praetorians had already gotten to her
first. I just barely escaped."
"How did you know the Praetorians were planning to kidnap
Fitzgerald's daughter?" asked Jarod, who only begun working to find
the kidnapped girl after the fact.
Angela hesitated a moment. "There's someone I'm working with.
He's good at getting information on the Praetorians. Sorcerer. We
hope someday the info we've been gathering will be enough to stop
the Praetorians. In the meantime, we do what we can."
Jarod cocked his head with interest. "He's the one you wanted to
talk with privately when you were using the computer."
"Yes," admitted Angela with a sheepish grin, remembering how
Jarod had left her in the computer lab and conveniently made himself
scarce when she had wanted to talk to Sorcerer.
Jarod listened silently as Angela explained further. He seemed
particularly interested when somehow the name Evan Bennett slipped
into her explanation of what had happened to her.
"Who's Evan Bennett?" Jarod interrupted.
"My father," Angela said, trying to hurry over that part to
Sorcerer's plan of action.
"When did he disappear?" Jarod asked a moment later.
"In 1984," Angela said in exasperation. Discussion of her father
was a taboo subject most of the time. She found it too painful to
talk about him. "Now please, pay attention. This part is important.
What I have asked of you is extremely dangerous. These people are
ruthless and..." Angela swallowed hard. "Remember how I told you
they killed my best friend and framed me for it. Well, that isn't
all. Anyone who gets close to me is at major risk. If they find out
you're helping me, they'll go after you too. You may have to leave
the country--Change your whole identity. And even then, nothing's
guaranteed."
Change his identity? Jarod kept back a grin. His identity was
safe...even he didn't know it. And he changed it every week.
Jarod didn't appear worried, at least not for himself. He looked
at Angela's face with concern though, sensing something else
underlying her warning and asked, "What happened?". Angela appeared
close to tears and as there were no time for tears, she stood up and
said, "No use dwelling in the past. Maybe I'll tell you about it
later. Right now, if you still want to do this, I guess we should
get started."
Jarod nodded. "Do I get to meet Sorcerer?"
Angela tilted her head and with quick wit began to poke fun, "I
don't know, do you?" Without explaining she grabbed her bag and
headed for the door. Jarod picked up his own case and followed.
"Well?" Miss Parker's voice once again blared over the connection
and once again Broots held the phone away from his ear before
responding.
"I checked the computer and it all checks out. Liz Marx is said
to be an international terrorist. Very dangerous. She has a long
record and is known most for cyber hacking and electronic espionage.
I'd hate to be in her shoes."
"What about Trelawney?"
"I'm at a loss there, Miss Parker. I looked into the FBI files
and found him but..."
"But what?"
"It was strange. I can't explain it. Something wasn't exactly
right about it. Maybe if I had more than just the name..."
"Find out what it is!"
"I will,"
Broots promised. "And I assure you that--" CLICK! Broots hung up the
phone, grumbling, "I hate it when she does that." He looked at the
phone and a light dawned his eyes. "I'll have to do this the old
fashioned way," he said to himself. He quickly sat at his computer
and pulled up the Federal Bureau of Investigation's telephone
directory.
Sorcerer: Angel, is that you?
Angel: Yes, its me.
Sorcerer: Is Jarod with you? Has he agreed to
help?
Angel: He's out on an errand. But he's ready and
willing.
Sorcerer: What a relief! Tell Jarod we're
glad to have him aboard.
Angel: I will.
Sorcerer: What's that? Is there something
else?
Angel: Hmm. What do you mean?
Sorcerer: I know that tone in your voice,
Angela. What's on your mind?
Angel: You're being really nosy today, aren't
you?
Sorcerer: I'm only trying to help.
Angel: Well, I was thinking about what Jarod told
me. The Centre used his simulations to make terrible things happen.
It sounded so much like what the Praetorians did to my father. That
group they gathered at Copper Canyon. 1984.
Angela sighed.
She remembered so vividly the trip she herself had taken to Copper
Canyon after she first had started running from the Praetorians. She
had been searching for answers. And discovered boxes stacked up to
the ceiling. Boxes full of files. One box in particular had caught
her attention. The one labeled with her father's name. Evan Bennett.
That was where he had gone in 1984. Why hadn't her father ever
returned?
But before she could discover the answer to that mystery, she had
been forced to flee and Copper Canyon had been destroyed.
Sorcerer's words snapped her back from her momentary
reverie.
Sorcerer: We're going to right the wrongs
committed, Angel. Did you receive the plans I sent you?
Angel: Yeah. I'm downloading them now.
Sorcerer: You know I'll help you in anyway I
can. Whatever you need, I'm there for you, Angel.
Angel: I know. Well, I better get going. Gotta a
lot to do before tonight.
The red pickup
truck pulled up to the curve. Jarod and Angela hopped out and closed
the doors quietly. Each of them were dressed in janitorial suits.
"This is it, Jarod," Angela said. "This building is owned by the
Praetorians. This is where Hannah is."
Jarod looked up at the tall building. "You and Sorcerer are
absolutely certain about that?" he asked. He silently assessed the
building, weighing it weaknesses and strengths.
"Yes, Sorcerer did some hacking and that's how he found out she's
being kept here. The Praetorians were trying to extort money from
Mr. Fitzgerald but for once they couldn't find anything to use
against him."
"Except his daughter," Jarod replied with a determined look.
"Let's go." He opened the door and got out.
Angela exited the vehicle also. The two walked to the back of the
pickup in order to unload it. Angela was excited. "Okay...well this
a great plan to get in the building...but as for getting out...well,
I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she said.
Jarod agreed gravely. "But however we get out, it'll have to
undetectable."
"We can't risk them seeing you, Jarod."
"Then, I'll work on being as invisible as I can," Jarod said.
"Good." Angela held a mop with a bulky head, while Jarod pushed a
large mop bucket filled with supplies. The interlopers walked into
the building and past the front desk without being questioned.
Once inside the janitorial closet their uniforms underwent a
dramatic change and instead of the janitorial apparel they now wore
black jumpsuits. Jarod pulled out a laptop computer from the mop
bucket, while Angela secured some lengths of rope and cords, a few
pulleys and a screwdriver. Then, they slunk out of the closet and
crept down the hallway until they reached their desired location. A
room with a computer that hooked into the security systems of the
entire building.
"Well, Broots. What have you got?" Miss Parker challenged him.
Broots was ready. "Miss Parker, you're not going to believe
this."
"Try me."
"I called the FBI and asked to speak to Agent Trelawney."
"And?" asked Miss Parker, sharply.
"Nobody who actually works at the Bureau has ever heard of him.
It's like he only exists in the computer database."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he is one good hacker."
"More or less. He's wasted my time and I won't rest until I get
to the bottom of this. And this Liz Marx. Is he working with her?"
"Not that I can tell," Broots replied with a thinking tone in his
voice.
"What is it?" Miss Parker demanded.
"Nothing," Broots replied.
"Spill it!"
"I," Broots hesitated. "Well, I was thinking. If this Sean
Trelawney could forge a FBI identity maybe he's forged others. And
if he's forged others maybe I can find out what those are...and if I
find out..."
"Then, you could zero in on him and tell me his possible location
now," Miss Parker mused. "Do it! Get back to me as soon as you
gotten the information. I want to know everything you find out about
this character. And..."
"I know. Call you as soon I find it."
"Good boy!" Miss Parker approved.
"This is their security grid..." Jarod brought up the display on
the laptop computer which he had hooked undetected into the
building's security systems.
Angela peered over his shoulder at the screen, watching with
admiration. "Whoa! Already? I couldn't have done a smoother job
myself. I'll have to tell Sorcerer he has some competition."
Jarod nodded. "Now the floors below the floor where Hannah is are
very carefully patrolled and guarded, but the floors up above...."
Angela understood. "They don't figure anyone will get past them
to up there so they only put a low-level security in place."
Jarod handed her a page of schematics with clearly defined
locations. "You sure you can do this?" he asked.
"I'm on it," Angela said, taking it. She sat down and placed the
laptop computer in her lap. She flexed her fingers over the
keyboard. "Now, you'll get to see a little of my work, Jarod. I'm no
super genius like you, but when it comes to computers...Magic!"
Jarod smiled and pulled out his climbing gear.
A triumphant laugh came from Angela's direction. "You've got a
clear path on this level to Elevator three, Jarod."
The Pretender nodded and stuck a listening device into his ear,
ran down the hallway, safely reached the elevator without detection
and their plans were set in motion.
"Cut to the chase, Broots! The address! Now."
"Your best chance at finding Trelawney is at a law firm affliated
with," Broots began to fill her in on the details.
Miss Parker scribbled it down and said, "A law firm? What would
an FBI agent want with a law firm, Broots?"
"I think its safe to say that the entire FBI thing was a lie.
This guy is smart and very good with computers, believe me. You'd
almost think that a whole group was behind this and that--"
"Then, this firm is just a front for whatever really is behind
it." Miss Parker cut him off with a question. "The location is
close? Very close, Broots? Good. Send me the quickest route there
and be quick."
Sydney broke in. "Miss Parker...perhaps it would be wisest to
wait for the sweeper team and--".
"Wait!" Miss Parker would hear no more. She held up her hand.
"And lose another chance to catch, Jarod? We go now, Syd or I go
alone."
The hunched figure of a little girl sat in the chair of the
spacious, but dark office. What little light entering the room
filtrated through the half-open door. Shadows passed by the door
occasionally, blocking the light and making shivers run up and down
her spine.
She had always been afraid of the dark.
Voices floated to her occasionally, wisps of words that her ears
strained to listen to and occasionally managed to catch a few
phrases, none of which she could truly comprehend. Her ears did not
find what they sought. They quested for a kind word, a familiar
voice among the strangers who had taken her away from all she had
ever known.
But she heard nothing like that and as she sat in the
semi-darkness she only knew that she had been taken away, snatched
without warning, blindfolded for the duration of a terrifying ride
and brought to this awful place.
There weren't any telephones in the room. Her eyes had searched
for one everywhere, but the attempt to locate a means of calling
'911' had failed.
And she was up so high! She didn't dare look out those huge glass
windows to view the dizzying heights or think about how far the
ground was below.
During the daylight hours she had courageously spoken against her
captors. "Wait til my daddy comes! Then, you'll be sorry." But as
the hours passed, her courage waned and the tide of fear threatened
to rise up and engulf her. What if nobody came? What if she was
stuck with these strangers forever?
Then, a movement at the window attracted her attention.
Her curiosity rose above her fears. She slipped out of her chair,
carrying the flower-covered notebook she had been clutching to her
heart, and went to investigate.
There was a cord dangling down and a man was attached to to it,
climbing down the outside of the building! He gestured silently to
her, asking her to open the window.
After only a moment's hesitation, she dropped her notebook and
pulled the latch of the window, partially openly it.
In another moment, the man had opened the window the rest of the
way and entered the room, detaching himself from the cord.
"How did you get up here?" asked Hannah. She was so in awe of the
amazing feat that she forgot to be afraid. "How did you know how to
do that?"
"Spiderman," whispered Jarod with a twinkle in his eye,
cautioning her to be quiet with a finger over his lips. His brown
eyes beamed kindly at her. He bent so that his eyes were level with
hers. "You must be Hannah. I'm Jarod. My friend and I are going to
help you get back to your father. I know he's worried about you.
Will you trust me?"
Hannah's eyes grew wide and she nodded, hopefully.
Anna Kelly sat silently on the passenger side of a dark
unobtrusive looking car. The man who was the driver had his eyes
fixed upon a wastebasket--the scheduled meeting place--on the street
corner, poised to alert her at the slightest sign of movement. Kelly
was wearing headphones and typing on a portable computer in front of
her.
Trelawney's voice came to her ear. "Kelly. Report."
"There's no movement yet, sir," replied Kelly, still absorbed in
looking at the screen of her computer. Even as she sat here awaiting
the final phase of Operation Green, Kelly was still scanning for
signs of the whereabouts of Trelawney's chief prey. If the
authorities arrested or brought Liz Marx into custody, if anyone so
much as accessed the file on Liz Marx, then the Praetorians knew
about it.
"What about my enemy?" Trelawney inquired.
"Currently no activity," Kelly replied. Then, she continued, "I'm
paying close attention to the areas around the last known location
of her whereabouts. If she's out there, we'll find her."
Trelawney accepted this with resignation. "Keep me updated. The
cut-off deadline for Operation Green is twelve midnight. Fitzgerald
has until then to get the money to us. Trelawney out."
"I don't like it," said Hearney, sullenly.
He watched Trelawney remove the audio transmitter from his ear
and turn to look at him with amusement. "What is it now, Hearney?"
Hearney looked disturbed. "This was your brain child. If
Operation Green fails, it will be on our heads. I was thinking about
the chairman."
"Shut up, Hearney. Leave the thinking to me. Upstairs, in the
form of a child, sits the ticket to millions upon millions of
dollars. I'm going to check in with security." He put the
transmitter back in his ear and hit a button on a nearby computer
counsel. A frown came over his face. Trelawney turned with annoyance
at the sound of loud knocking over the connection. "Copeland," he
demanded, when security answered his call. "Who is making that
infernal racket?"
"It's a woman, sir," Copeland answered, timidly. "She's beating
at the front door of the building. I think she's shouting your
name."
Trelawney sighed. "Tell them to open the door. I'll be right
there."
"Well, if it isn't the good Agent Trelawney," grinned Miss Parker
as she and Sydney were ushered into Trelawney's temporary office.
Trelawney did not look in the least bit shocked to see her. "Miss
Parker," he said, coyly. "We meet on a name to name basis. What
brings you all the way from Blue Cove, Delaware? I hear they have
lovely weather this time of year."
Miss Parker's grin didn't seem to be as wide as it had been
before, but otherwise she seemed unrattled by Trelawney's knowledge
of her. "My reason for being here is simple. I'm still after Jarod
and you happen to be my last link to him. Your Liz Marx/FBI story
doesn't hold water."
"Liz Marx is a very dangerous terroist," counseled Trelawney.
Miss Parker gave a wry laugh. "And you're not?"
Trelawney pressed his hands together calmly. "This could be a
serious case of the kettle calling the pot black. I assume you
yourself aren't from any governmental agency?"
Sydney, standing next to Miss Parker, watched Trelawney warily.
Be careful how you answer that, Parker, he thought. He wondered if
he was the only one noting the dangerous gleam in Trelawney's eye.
But Miss Parker hadn't been raised around Centre personnel for
nothing. She had developed sharp perceptions. She knew when to tell
the truth. "I assume you don't ask questions you already have the
answers to. I'm from a private corporation," said Miss Parker. "It's
important I find Jarod. If you know anything. Anything that would
help lead me to him, the Centre would be prepared to make it worth
your while." It was Miss Parker's turn to smile coyly.
Trelawney rose up from behind the desk where he had been sitting
and put his hands in his pockets. He leaned against his desk, still
the very picture of calm, and said, "Our goals really aren't that
different, are they? There's no reason then, to act like we are on
opposing teams. Why not form a partnership?"
Jarod was facing a dilemna.
Just outside the room where he had found Hannah, he had counted
at least three guards in the hallway. Two were sitting at a card
table playing cards. The third was seated at a security monitor,
apparently scanning the various levels of the building for unusual
movement. They were blocking the way to the elevators. In a normal
Pretend of his, these obstacles would have posed no problem at all.
He would have marched out into their midst pretending to be extra
security, security sent to test the skills of the existing system
that was set in place. He would have used the momentary confusion
and uncertainty caused by this in order to distract the guards away
from their posts and, in the ensuing melee, taken Hannah to safety.
But Angela had told Jarod this was not an option. The Praetorians
ignorance of Jarod's involvement was to serve as his chief
protection. There were security cameras placed about the building
and, even if Jarod attempted to hide his face, simply knowing the
fact someone had dared go up against them would make the Praetorians
add Jarod to their 'Most Wanted' list. Eventually, using their high
tech methods, they would find out it was Jarod and begin their own
pursuit of him.
It was too dangerous. They were dealing with the Praetorians whom
Angela had gone up against before and knew better than anyone else.
"How would you usually fight corruption, while at the same time
protecting yourself from discovery?" Angela had asked him. "You
would put things out on the Internet, mail incriminating information
to the proper authorities, wouldn't you? But all that stuff gets
processed by computers, Jarod, and the Praetorians have strategicly
placed people almost everywhere. The moment the word "Praetorian"
hit the net, they would delete it. The moment whatever you mailed to
the authorities crossed the wrong desk, all the good people involved
with working the case would be mysteriously replaced, bought off, or
silenced and the records of what you mailed would become
non-existent in the computer databases."
Jarod listened intently to the conversation of the guards outside
the room, hoping to get a clue of what might happen next. He had
devised the plan and method used to reach Hannah, but here was where
his part of the plan ended. He was used to having everything planned
out to the last detail, but Angela seemed to be the queen of
improvisation. Angela knew this organization. Computers were her
field. So Jarod waited in the room with Hannah, comforting the
child, and waiting to see the first demonstrations of Angela's
computer wizardy.
Then, the alarm bells sounded.
"What's that?" Miss Parker asked, suddenly.
Trelawney paused in the middle of a sentence and then pressed a
button on his desk. "Copeland? What's going on out there?"
"I'm showing a security breach, sir," Copeland's alarmed voice
crackled over the intercom.
"What's happened to our communications?"
"System failures and malfunctions, sir."
"Check our surveillance. Location?"
"I'm...I'm not sure sir. These readings and--" There was static.
"I'm getting are erratic."
Miss Parker moved towards the door, but one of Trelawney's men
blocked her path. "What is this?" she turned to look at him. "The
man I'm looking for may be here right now and I'm the only one who
knows his tricks." Trelawney didn't answer her right away, she began
to lose her patience. She felt like she was nearly jumping out of
her skin. "I have to catch him! Trelawney! He and that girl
you're looking for may be getting away as we speak!"
The guards outside Hannah's room leapt to their feet as the
alarms sounded. "We've got a breach," said the man at the security
monitor. The other two men dropped their cards and one of them
asked, anxiouxly, "What are you talking about, Benson?"
Just then, one of the two elevators in the hallway began to hum.
The lights of its buttons lit up as it moved to their level and
stopped on the floor. The elevator's doors parted.
"What is that?" asked the security monitor man called Benson.
"Don't just stand there, you two!" he commanded the other guards.
The men were standing dumbfoundedly by the card table. "Check it
out!" When neither moved to obey, he singled one out. "Stevens!"
Stevens approached the elevator car cautiously and entered it.
"No one's here," commented he, mystified.
Benson looked at the man who stood by the card table and the
guard promptly followed Stevens. "He's right," grumbled the guard.
"Nothing's here." A thought occurred to him. "And none of us pressed
the button for this level. Why'd it stop here?"
Benson didn't believe anything he hadn't seen with own eyes. He
too, stepped into the elevator car and began to tap the wall
suspiciously.
The elevator doors hissed shut suddenly, confining the three
inside the elevator.
Stevens jumped. "Stupid! You pressed the button!"
"No, I didn't, moron!" yelled the nameless guard.
"Don't look at me!" snapped Benson, desperately trying to open
the doors up again.
"But if I didn't press the button and you didn't press the
button, then who--"
The elevator lurched as it began to move.
Jarod peeked out into the hallway. He had watched the antics of
the guards with interest when the three disappeared onto the
elevator and did not return. A moment later, the light of the
security camera scanning the hallway blinked off.
The second elevator's doors parted, revealing Angela standing
there, grinning. "Going my way?" she asked.
Jarod shepherded Hannah out of the room, across the hallway, and
onto the elevator.
"Benson? Is our charge secure? Benson? Why don't you
answer me? BENSON!" Three creases appeared in Trelawney's brow.
"Go!" Trelawney cried, giving permission for Miss Parker to leave
the office. He jumped up himself, suddenly seized by the thrill of
his own chase. Angela Bennett, his dear enemy, could be here in this
very building. Her boldness surprised and invigorated him. He put on
his jacket. "You shouldn't have risked entering my domain. It's your
humanity that will be your undoing, Angela," he said under his
breath, exiting the room.
Miss Parker was off like a bolt of lightning. She ran directly to
the security station in the hall and snapped at the woman at the
computer. The one Trelawney had addressed over the intercom as
Copeland. "This breach of yours? Where is it?"
Trelawney was right at Miss Parker's heels. He too leaned over
the station, wishing for a moment that Kelly wasn't working on
Operation Green because she certainly would have already located the
causers of the breach by now. Amanda Copeland was slow in
comparison. "Benson, hasn't checked in. Find out what's going on up
there, Copeland! Hearney, get some people up there! Surround Floor
fifteen. Above and below."
Miss Parker watched Trelawney giving orders and glanced at her
watch. At this rate, Jarod, if he was here, would be long gone. She
rushed over to an elevator and pressed the button. Trelawney was
evidently concerned about something on the upper floor, so whatever
it was might be something or someone worth protecting. Which meant,
to Jarod, something or someone worth saving. If so, that was where
Jarod would be found, but only if she hurried.
The alarms continued to sound as throughout the building, areas
seemed to be falling into continuous system's failures. The lights
blinked on and off without rhyme nor reason. The security cameras
panned in wrong or pointless directions while some shut off
altogether.
"There's been a system wide compromise," reported Copeland, who
was in charge of coordinating technical security while Kelly was
away. Her eyes were glued to her screen and she listened to reports
over her headphones from the other security personnel about the
situation.
"A virus?" asked Trelawney.
"A foreign program, yes," agreed Copeland.
"Well, you are the computer expert on the job. Attempt to purge
it!"
"I'm trying, sir."
Miss Parker impatiently waited for the elevator. "Don't you have
any people on that level that can intercept your intruders?" She
spotted Hearney and associates heading for a door marked "Stairs"
and plunged after them into the darkened stairwell, oblivious to
Sydney's concerned cry.
The elevator moved steadily downwards. Angela had Jarod's laptop
computer tucked under her arm. She knelt to be eye to eye with
Hannah. "Hi, sweetie. I'm Angela. You look like you're feeling a
little scared?"
Hannah nodded. One of her hands clung to Jarod's with a vise-like
grip.
"Did those men hurt you?" asked Angela gently.
"They scared me," sniffed Hannah.
Angela touched Hannah's shoulder sympatheticly. "It's okay to be
scared. They scare me to, but that doesn't mean we're gonna let them
win. We're gonna get you out of here, kiddo."
The grip on Jarod's hand loosened and Hannah relaxed visibly at
Angela's comforting words.
Jarod looked at Angela, approvingly. He kept his tone steady, but
his eyes were concerned. "What are all of these alarms? I got you in
past the system security. What tripped them?"
Angela smiled at him. "It's something extra I've been working on.
I think your Miss Parker is here too, Jarod. It was an unexpected
arrival. We needed a diversion." Angela held up a disk. "Call it a
parting gift. Especially designed for the Praetorians."
"Miss Parker is here?" asked Jarod in surprise.
But before Angela could answer, a sudden jolt threw the occupants
of the elevator off balance.
Their elevator had lurched to a full stop.
"I think I've got them," Copeland reported.
"Where? Where?" demanded Trelawney.
"Infared sensors are detecting three in a moving elevator,"
Copeland replied.
"Three? Can you stop them?" Trelawney's mind was racing. He would
be up there himself if he thought it would do any good. But some
instinct told him he had a better chance monitoring happenings from
below. Besides, if Angela did have help from a source he was
unfamiliar with, it was better to be out of the line of fire.
"I've gained back control of some the system. Initiating
transport override routines now, sir," replied Copeland. "I've
stopped them. Elevator Four on Level Six. Cameras are still
malfunctioning but infared still reads three."
"Three?" repeated Trelawney, still not overcoming his momentary
surprise. "Seal the doors, Copeland. Don't let them off that
elevator." Not only could Angela be here but she might also be
working with someone else. And that someone else, that Jarod whom Miss
Parker was tracking, that phantom menace was swiftly becoming an
annoyance to him. "You shouldn't share secrets, Angela," he
whispered to himself. "Hearney!" he radioed. "Elevator Four, Level
Six. Bring them to me!"
Hearney wasn't the only one who heard Trelawney's instructions
over his radio.
Miss Parker panted as she made the precarious run up the stairs,
still wearing high heels and finally throwing them off her feet to
gain speed and traction. She managed to keep just behind Hearney and
the group he was leading.
The stairs were set in a series of ninety-degree angles
occassionally the walls of which were broken by emergency exit
doors. They passed all these by and continued the flight upwards.
Upwards to that waiting elevator that held the prize for their
diligent pursuit.
In the mad rush up the stairs through the dimly lit and stuffy
atmosphere of the stairwells, Miss Parker felt a momentary cool rush
of air on the back of her neck, but she disregarded the sensation.
All her senses were attuned on one thing only. She was focused on
reaching her goal.
Trelawney watched Copeland operate the computer and the digital
displays that tracked the movement of the elevators. "We're in
position," Hearney radioed. "Moving in."
"Releasing the elevator doors," said Copeland with anticipation.
And then, the strangest of all things happened. While the buzzing
of the tripped alarms had been a constant dull roar, suddenly a
siren-like sound invaded the building. A sound more persistant and
harder to ignore than the intruder alarms.
Especially since it was accompanied by a deluge of water. Along
all the the equipped ceilings, a wet mist of spray shot through the
air like a cloudburst indoors and water droplets pelted everything
in their path to the floor.
"No!" Trelawney screamed, clenching his fist even as the water
soaked his hair and ran down his cheeks, drenching his tailor-made
suit.
It was the fire alarm. Sean Trelawney's mind burned with the
knowledge that a fire alarm automatically released all the emergency
doors. There was little doubt his mind that Angela had planned this
somehow and his last hopes vanished at the sound of Hearney's
radioed words.
"We've got the doors open, sir and I've caught--" There was brief
pause of shock. "Benson? What are you doing in here?"
"Where are they?" Trelawney growled at Copeland. "It thought you
had them!"
"They must have been on a different elevator," Copeland said,
frantically searching the elevator surveillance security logs. She
dared not now tell her boss what she had deduced from the data. One
of the elevator cameras had been giving a looped camera feedback.
Any number of persons could have come and gone on that elevator
leaving the Praetorians none the wiser.
"No! No! No!" Miss Parker cried at first shriek of the fire
alarm. She pivoted even as she had reached the top of the stairwell
on Level Six, knowing from experience that she must have been going
the wrong way. That brief breath of fresh air she had felt--a draft
caused by the opening and shutting of a door. Oh, why hadn't she
realized it before?
It took her half the time to descend the stairs to that
particular drafty landing than it had to ascend. But even as she
pushed open the emergency door and stared into the stillness
outside, she knew with a sinking feeling that she was already too
late.
She had been so very close, but once more, Jarod had overcome the
odds.
Jarod had escaped.
In the confusion and mayhem that had followed the shower of the
sprinklers, Sydney and Miss Parker slipped away. Trelawney was
unconcerned by their disappearance, nor by their obvious rejection
of his offer of a partnership with the Praetorians. Disappointed by
missing another chance to catch his enemy, he had dispatched
Copeland and recalled Kelly back to the scene, hoping to undo most
of the damage Angela's bug had caused before the damage became
irreparable.
No trace of what the Praetorians had really been doing here was
to be left behind for the local authorities to find. With loose ends
tied up here, it was time to go and face the music of what the
Committee and the Chairman would say about this incident, hopefully
with a newly formulated plan that would forestall the repercussions
of this failure and keep him classified as one their topmost and
indispensable agents.
"Hearney. Go and arrange for our immediate departure."
"Maybe we should be looking for this Jarod?" Hearney balked. His
clothes were still uncomfortably damp.
"Hearney," Trelawney shook his head. "From the information
gleaned from Miss Parker, we know that Jarod is somewhat of a
showoff. He always leaves behind a...what was it?"
"A red notebook, sir," supplied Kelly, looking at the extensive
notes she had taken.
"Yes," said Trelawney, as if the thought was very quaint. "He
leaves a notebook. Now, I had the building searched thoroughly. Was
there any sign of notebook like the one described, Hearney?"
"No sir."
"That computer virus which tied up our computer security systems,
Kelly. Which systems were affected? Specifically?"
"The security cameras, the elevators, and the sprinklers,"
detailed Kelly from her checklist.
"Ah yes, the sprinklers," said Trelawney with a relish. "Being
drenched with water by my enemy to remind us of that first escape.
Very nostalgic, I think." The day Angela had first learned of the
Praetorians, Trelawney, Hearney and Kelly had come to her home
posing as NSA agents. They had intended to frame her for murder,
while milking her for all she knew. But Angela had been tipped off
by Sorcerer and, in the middle of their visit, set off the
sprinklers suddenly. Using this diversion, she had made a narrow
escape. "Now, I cannot control what you write in your report, but I
do know that we don't want to waste our resources anywhere else
because you have your little suspicions, now do we?" He gave Hearney
a hard stare, but spoke to the other member of his team. "The style
in which Operation Green was corrupted bears whose mark, Kelly?"
"Examining the effects of the program used to disrupt this
building's internal systems, it is must be concluded that it was
Bennett's," said Kelly, seriously.
Trelawney nodded. "Hear that, Hearney? The evidence that Angela
was here is unmistakeable. Who else was here if anyone was, is
unimportant. There is no record this Jarod was here. Over
expenditure of our resources might force me to make cutbacks which I
certainly don't want, do you?"
Trelawney stared steadily at his sidekick. He didn't care if
Jarod had been here, if Jarod had the audacity to openly get in his
way, then the man would be dealt with. But Angela was the greatest
threat, of the greatest importance, and nothing was to be allowed to
get in the way of his pursuit of her. So for all intents and
purposes, the Centre, Miss Parker, Jarod, anyone and anything that
might cause the delay of the capture of his enemy didn't exist for
him.
Hearney got the hint. "I'll go see about the car," he said, and
strolled away.
Angela and Jarod had just finished seeing the Fitzgeralds off at
the airport. Albert Fitzgerald couldn't thank them enough for
restoring his daughter to him and he did not question their urging
to get away from the people who had done this without learning any
details of the rescue.
Then, Angela turned to Jarod and said, "Sorceror says the
Praetorians aren't looking for you and the Centre doesn't seem to be
looking for me."
"That's very good."
"Well, its not bad."
"There was something I wanted to--" Jarod began.
Angela interrupted. "Oh, wait. Let me guess. It's about how I
know Sorcerer."
"Well--" Jarod started to say.
"I've never met Sorcerer in person," Angela admitted. "Not yet.
He's a pretty mysterious guy. Kind of like you. But he's my friend.
The only person who really knows me for who I am. Who knows I'm me.
Angela Bennett and nobody else. Until I met you Jarod. You believed
in who I was and trusted in me. Well...it makes me hope that one day
the world will know who I am again, too. That one day, we all can
feel safe again."
Jarod felt a lump rising in his throat. "Thank you. I wish I
could have helped you more."
"Helped me? Believe me, Jarod. You've done plenty. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I better be going now," said Jarod with a smile
of farewell. He picked up his duffel bag and his Haliburton case.
Angela laughed. "Sure you don't want to go on the run together
for awhile," she said, jokingly. Seeing Jarod's expression, she
continued quickly, "Kidding. No. No, you're right. Two ruthless
organizations coming after you instead of just one. As if our lives
aren't complicated enough." Angela narrowed her eyes, looking
curiously at the item Jarod had just pulled from his bag. "What is
that?"
"That" proved to be compact computer, with voice activation and
satellite uplink, that rivaled even the prototype Angela had
once possessed but eventually lost to the jaws of a passing lawn
mower. Now, Angela once again had a way to instantly communicate
with Sorcerer.
"Oh thank you!" Angela cried and a gave Jarod a hug. "If you ever
need anything, anything. Don't hesitate to get in touch with
Sorcerer. He'll know where I am." Then, she drew back and, sniffing
to keep any tears that threatened to come, said, huskily, "Take care
of yourself, okay?"
Jarod nodded and clasped her hand in parting. "Goodbye Angela
Bennett. I hope you find what your looking for."
Angela stood and watched Jarod walk away. "You too, Jarod,"
Angela smiled. "You too."
THE END
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