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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
The Gift
part VII
by Nicolette & paula h
"How is she? " Margaret asked, fearful. The worried look on her husband's face gave him away before he even spoke.
"I stopped the bleeding, that is all I could do for her now. She started to shake and fantasize; she called for her mother. I have never heard anything like this before, she talked with her, asked her if she was real and if she would now stay with her. She begged her mother not to leave her." A shudder run down the Major's spine as he remembered the scene.
"For a moment I thought she would die right away. " he added with a sigh. "To be honest I have no idea how she was able to make it the whole way up here."
"She had no choice," Margaret replied, "she knew that she was badly wounded, she needed to bring her son to a safe place, to people who would protect him against The Centre no matter what, us. "
When his wife mentioned the little boy the Major looked around, searching for him. When he could not see him he worried a bit. When Jake dragged him out of the car he had heard him scream, and he had heard more than one painful grunt from Jake when he was kicked by Ryan.
Not that he could fault him for this, he must had been scared as hell. He just hoped that the shock was not to much for him.
"Where is Ryan?" he finally asked, the worry about his grandson evident in every word.
"Uh, " Emily spoke for the first time, "he is in my bedroom, sleeping"
The embarrassed and guilty look on his daughter's face raised some suspicions in the Major. He cocked a questioning eyebrow at the young woman.
"Look," she tried to defend herself, "It was not my fault, he was completely frantic, he never stopped screaming and threw around everything he could get a hand on, just go and look at my room, it looks like after hurricane ." Emily hesitated for a moment. "It took me long enough to make him finally drink the Kool-Aid, it was only Benadryl, it was Jake's idea, it made him drowsy." she finished in a defensive tone.
"You drugged him?" her father asked, not believing his ears.
"It was only antihistamine, what Jake took for the bee sting. I wish you had seen, there was no other chance for Jake and me, the only other option would have been to tie him to the bed." Emily finished contrarily. She didn't dare to look at her father, or her mother, she felt guilty enough for it. But they had not seen the rage from the boy. She wished Jake was here to confirm her words, but he had decided to stay with Ryan, just in case. She was ready to defend herself even more when she heard the chuckle of her mother. Her head snapped up and watched the couple in front of her, disbelieving.
Her mother was now laughing and even her father looked like he would laugh out loud any minute. For a moment she feared her parents had lost it.
"Oh, Emily do you know what you said? Jake and you, a strong young woman and a teenage boy where both not able to handle a not-even-three year old baby." Margaret gasped trying to get air back into her lungs. She was aware that her laughter was almost hysterical, the last hours had just been to much.
Finally Emily joined them. She was sure that if the situation was not so sad it would have made a great joke for anyone who saw the fight with Ryan. She briefly wondered who gave him his name, the "Little King," it seemed that somebody had picked it out on purpose.
The urge to laugh faded as soon as it had hit them and it was suddenly absolutely quiet inside of the cabin, except an occasional knick and knack from the open fireplace.
"I'll call Sydney, it's overdue. Maybe he has news on what happened there and he may even know where Jarod is." Not waiting or expecting any response, he took out this cell phone and hit speed dial.
Margaret rose from the sofa, not waiting for a her husband to even start the call, with a short excuse she walked over to the bedroom where Miss Parker now lay.
****
Jarod stopped the car. He was less than two miles from The Centre, but Parker and his... her son were no longer there. He was at a complete loss. It was difficult enough to comprehend the child's existence; another Centre betrayal; and now he had no chance to help. To help, he smiled at himself, to save the day... to ride in and play hero, just like Parker always said he did. Parker, she'd been shot rescuing his son from that hell. Like mother like daughter. How badly was she injured? There were sweepers looking for her. Where could she go? Not her home, she was too smart for that. He could only hope she had some sort of plan. He had none.
A blast of wind buffeted the car and knocked him out of his reverie. If he couldn't go to his child, at least he might be able to keep The Centre away. He dialed The Centre's number as he watched the wind sweep snowflakes across the hood of his car. "Mr. Lyle, please," he said to the evening receptionist.
"Mr. Lyle is no longer employed here. Is there anyone else you wish to speak with?" she responded as she activated a trace on the call, per standing order on any calls for "former" employees.
"Mutambo, then," Jarod smiled wickedly. So Lyle had been found out. Setting up Miss Parker was not a career enhancing move. Good, he hoped the bastard was already dead, it would save him the trouble.
"Is Mr. Mutambo expecting your call? Please give me your name. I need to check it against a correspondence list."
"Jarod." If Jarod could have seen the receptionist face, he would have been gratified. Her eyes widened; she did not need the list. She did not know who this Jarod person was but she did know that any calls from him were to be directed to the recipient immediately. She was glad she had already started the trace.
He waited only moments until Mutambo's rich voice filled his ears, "Mutambo here." Jarod felt like the icy wind hit the back of his neck. He could feel it moving down his back to his heart, which froze with fear.
Jarod took a deep shaking breath, steeling himself for what he was going to try. "Call off your dogs."
"Why, Jarod, to what do I owe this call?" Mutambo smiled, possible victory from the jaws of defeat. "We are not currently pursuing you."
"You are trailing my son. As you have trailed me and my clone."
"Your son? I am impressed. Your knowledge of Centre activities is rather amazing." That leak needed to be plugged.
"Human beings are not activities," anger re-warmed Jarod's soul. He had to do this. "Call them off."
"And in return...?
"Me."
"The child has possibly greater potential...."
"He is still too young for many sims. A few years of freedom will not dull his abilities. It has not dulled mine. I can prove that. And a bird in the hand...."
May bring others from the bush. A new plan swiftly formed in Mutambo's mind. "You will cooperate?"
"Yes," Jarod gritted his teeth. Could he; would he? At least this would buy Parker time. "This time I want Sydney in charge."
"You are presumptuous. Very well, I am calling back the sweepers," he nodded his head and an assistant picked up another line to follow the order. "How will you know that they are back? When will you arrive?"
"I will know, and within ten minutes of their return. Sydney or no cooperation. You tried to force me before."
"Sydney, perhaps, we will make no further agreement until you are here."
Jarod broke the connection. Mutambo smiled. A further agreement? Does a man make an agreement with his hounds? No more than with the antelope they pursue. Once this hound was back under The Centre's chain, he would obey. And there was time to recover the pup. A short space of freedom and experience of The Centre's power might make him easier to train. Mutambo moved to watch the increasing snow outside his window. The boy was out there somewhere, watching his mother bleed.
****
"Syd, please pinch me," Broots nearly whined, "wake me up." He had followed Sydney back into the Centre, not knowing what else to do. Now they where standing in Miss Parkers office, her former office, after what has happened here during the last hours she surely would not be back. Broots silently prayed that she was not injured too badly, but from the amount of blood they had found on the parking lot, it was definitely more than a scratch.
"I know how you feel, " the older man assured him, " I can not believe it myself., after all those year of hunting, tricks and sacrifices, now this." Sydney felt older than ever in his life before. Everything was going downhill and he felt simply helpless and useless. God what a mess. He carefully scanned the room. Finally his eyes rested on a beautifully decorated box, placed next to her briefcase. She must have been about to leave when she received that damn mail from her brother.
After Mr. Parker was gone he had thoughts the siblings had called a truce, fragile but steady. He had been proven wrong, again. He asked himself what else must happen to finally let him see that nothing at The Centre was as it seemed.
Absently, Sydney traced the patterns on the box, carefully he lifted the lit and pushed the paper away. A beautiful doll. He didn't need to read the note, even before he opened the box he knew it was a present from Jarod. Thoughtfully, he stared into the porcelain face, a face that reminded him so much of the woman he worried about now. The doll smiled at him, a frozen smile, prefect beauty for eternity but, even so, easy to destroy beyond repair.
The shrill of his cell phone shocked him out of his daydream. He glanced over to Broots who stood there silently observing him. He saw the same fear he felt mirrored in the eyes of the younger man.
"Broots, take the box with the doll, please" Sydney ordered while he took out his cell phone to answer the call.
******
As carefully as she could, Margaret opened the bedroom door and slipped into the room. She stooped next to the bed and looked at the sleeping form. She was no doctor, but one was not needed to tell the young woman had been badly injured. Her skin was pale and sweaty.
It was the second time in her life she saw her; the first was a life time ago. She had hoped to meet her son, but as soon as she saw him this woman was there with a bunch of Sweepers.
About four years later she had finally met her son and he had given her the picture of her. A snap shot, clearly taken with a tele, but every time she looked at that picture she had the feeling the woman on it would look directly into her soul. As she told Emily, she knew how much she meant to her son.
Margaret sat down onto the bed, stroking some strands hair out off Parker's face. She had risked everything to take her son out and now it seemed she had lost. She had not only let her husband and Jake escape on more than one occasion, but she had known exactly where they where to meet and spend the holidays. She prayed to God that Charles was able to reach Jarod and let him know that she was here before he could do anything completely stupid.
Miss Parker stirred and opened her eyes, her fevered gaze fell on the woman sitting on her bed.
"Mom? I am sorry, I failed you." Her voice nearly inaudible, her eyes fell closed and her whole body turned limp.
For a split second Margaret was in panic, but than she noticed the even rise and fall of her breast, it seemed that she had finally to fallen into a deep slumber, at least she hoped so. She had lost so much blood and needed to rest more than anything else.
The older women stood up and rearranged the quilt and covers, Miss Parker responded and snuggled deeper into them.
Margaret was about to leave but turned back and placed a light kiss on the forehead of the woman, "Sweet dreams, Morgana" she finally whispered into her ear and left to check up on her grandson.
*****
Jarod watched the sweepers' town cars return to The Centre through the increasing snow. He waited nine minutes, he would not give them any more time or cooperation than promised. He had demanded Sydney. If Mutambo would not allow that, he would not perform. He had promised them himself, nothing more.
It was time to live up to his promise. Jarod gunned the motor and drove into The Centre parking lot. He left the headlights on when he got out. He wanted to see their faces; he did not want them to see the expression on his. He barely took three steps when he saw the trail of blood Parker had left during her flight. It was hard to tell in darkness, but new white snow was trapped in what looked to be a large amount of spilled blood. He stopped dead in his tracks, wanting to turn and run.
He forced himself forward. This was for his son, the son he might never see. It was the best plan he could think of, to keep him free. He could see people through the door. He could not tell if Sydney was there or not, and he almost panicked. Without Sydney he might never know how badly Parker was injured. Once inside he might never know if she survived.
Mutambo watched the car pull into the lot. He saw Jarod's shadow in the headlights; watched him stop; held back the sweepers who would have gone out to retrieve him. Mutambo smiled, it was always best to honor your enemies, in defeat or in victory. He wanted to see Jarod acknowledge this defeat. He was gratified to see the man start forward again. He watched him stride across the rest of the lot to the door. A gust of snow-filled wind blew around him just before he reached the door, trying to pull him back. Mutambo saw the look on Jarod's face, the warrior's mask. It was a shame he served another purpose, this one could have been made into a great hunter.
Jarod walked into The Centre and stopped, allowing his eyes to adjust. He looked quickly from face to face. He did not see Sydney.
"Come in, Jarod," Mutambo gestured as he spoke. "I see you are a man of your word."
"Where is Sydney?"
"We will discuss that. You are not in a position to make demands." Sweepers moved between Jarod and the door.
"You promised that Sydney would be here, in charge."
"I said, 'perhaps.'"
"I said, 'Sydney,'" Jarod growled. They had lied, he was not surprised, but he was angry. He started to move toward Mutambo and a sweeper grabbed each arm. Jarod fought to remain calm. Every minute he cooperated was another minute the boy was free. "All right," he shook off the sweepers and Mutambo signaled them to stand down. "What now?"
"Now, the sweepers will go back out to make sure your son is not sitting in a car somewhere beside his dead mother." Mutambo signaled the sweepers to return to their cars. Four remained to control Jarod, if necessary.
Jarod could not breathe as he watched the sweepers walk out the door. They were going after the boy, "You gave your word!" he spun toward Mutambo; the sweepers grabbed his arms again. Mutambo did not stop them.
"I agreed to call off the search in exchange for your return. They are not actively trailing the boy. But he is not yet three years old. The woman was shot, in disobedience to my wishes, and may not be... able to care for him. This is a precaution, for his well being." Mutambo smiled. "As to Sydney, we will see if you deserve such a reward. For the present you will be treated as any other who has disobeyed The Centre." He spoke to the guards, "Take him to SL-26."
Jarod did not fight the sweepers. There would be time enough to fight. "You will get nothing from me."
Mutambo's smile broadened, "Ah, but we already have..." He turned and walked away.
******
Lyle could not believe this. Where had his plan started to fail, She had reacted exactly the way he had expected. Running off with the boy, she even tried to reach her own car.
He paced around in his small cell. He had underestimated her, he had not expected her to start a gunfight. She had fired two full clips, but not hit him once. First he had called himself lucky, but now he was sure she had missed him on purpose.
Everything for her little bastard. He had known from the beginning that it would be a big mistake to let them meet. The Triumverate was sometimes completely blind. She was able to track anything and anybody down. But she failed again and again with Jarod and his family. All he ever wanted was proof. He had collected evidence over the years, but his traitorous sister had always been able to wind herself out.
But this time, this time he had caught her. He remembered the trail of blood in the snow. She was dying, no he corrected himself, she was surely dead by now. She had nobody she could turn to.
A smile came up on Lyle’s lips, he imagined his dead sister somewhere out in her car. This would be a good lesson for the little lab rat, spending a night with his dead mother in a freezing car would teach him not to disobey anymore.
Lyle thought about the possibilities with the boy under his control. All he needed was to get out of this rotten damn hole.
*****
Two more sweepers joined Jarod's honor guard at the elevator. He knew they had been ready to intervene if he had resisted Mutambo's orders at the door. They searched him and called the elevator.
As the elevator descended, Jarod mused that this had not been the smartest move of his life. Briefly, he even considered trying to fight his way out of here, maybe grab a sweeper's gun... and possibly leave his son an orphan. His search for family had brought him full circle; it would be the death of him yet. If he intended to get out of this position, he would have to pretend to cooperate. He needed to be sure his son... his son... had the freedom he deserved. He had to know they got away, that Parker had survived and found a refuge... Refuge... Sydney. Did Sydney even know that he had walked back in the front door? Mutambo did not intend to live up to his side of the bargain, that was hardly a surprise. What next?
The next stop was an all-too familiar sub-level. Rows of faceless doors, except for the one with the sweeper beside it. It had a barred window, as did the cell across from it. Jarod did not notice that he had stopped walking. Could they have Parker and the boy already? Did they want him to watch her die like her mother? He pulled back, and the sweepers pulled him forward. He deliberately refused to look in the other cell.
The sweepers pushed him into his cell and moved back, out of view. A surveillance camera was his new companion. Jarod stood at the far wall of the cell, unable to bring himself to look through the door. He heard the elevator again. A flash of Lyle's triumphant face from his last visit made Jarod queasy. But Lyle had crossed Mutambo; Jarod was not his toy this time. He wondered who his new playmate would be.
The cell door opened and Mr. Raines walked in. Shock was only the first of Jarod's emotions. Raines smiled at the obviously nervous man. "Hello, Jarod," he still had a slight wheeze to his voice, "welcome back, again. I just came down to tell you I will be taking care of you for a while. Mutambo has informed me that you offered to cooperate under certain conditions. Unfortunately, I am not in a position to grant your wishes."
Jarod frowned, he began to make an angry reply, but Raines stopped him with a gesture. "However, I am able to reward good behavior. In exchange for your nonviolent return, I offer you this bit of information. No sign of the boy, Ryan is his name I believe, has been found. Hopefully, Miss Parker was somewhat more successful in her 'rescue' attempt than her mother was." Raines saw disbelief on Jarod's face. "I say this, not because I want the boy outside The Centre, this is where he belongs. But because there is a snow storm and the temperature is rapidly dropping. If Miss Parker succumbed to her injury, there is a good chance she took the boy with her.
"As to your demand to see Sydney, that will be considered as a reward for good behavior. As to our pursuit of Miss Parker and our stolen property, that will be the subject of a Triumverate meeting. Your complete cooperation may influence their decision." Raines turned to leave the cell, "One final thing, just as your good behavior will be rewarded, bad behavior will be severely punished." He smiled, "God be with you," and left.
Jarod walked to the door. God? What did God have to do with this place? He watched Raines walk away as far as he could, then looked at the cell across the hall from his.
Lyle looked back at him, an odd glimmer in his eyes, "Welcome back to Hell...."
*****
"This is Sydney", the psychiatrist answered the phone, observing Broots, who carefully carried the box with the doll out of the room.
"Sydney, this is Major Charles," came the immediate reply.
Sydney closed his eyes in relief, hopefully the Major would know where Jarod was, so he could help them to find Miss Parker. Sydney just prayed that Jarod was close enough to make it in time, Miss Parker had no time to loose.
"Major, I am glad you called. We have a little problem here, Sydney started. Before he could go on and explain the whole situation.
Major Charles interrupted him, "We have no time for details yet, do you know where is my son? Do you know where Jarod is?
The desperate sound of the voice on the other end of the line made Sydney frown. Confused he tried to make sense out of the words. No time for detail and why was he asking for Jarod. He had hoped to get the Pretender’s location from his father.
"I hoped you could tell us, " Sydney replied calmly. "We need his help, Miss Parker freed their son, but was caught by her brother on the parking lot. He shot her, and from the blood we found there we need to find her as soon as possible. "
The silence on the other end was tugging on Sydney’s nerves. Finally he heard a soft curse. The Major spoke again. "I'm worried that Jarod has not called you as well. We need to find him, but for another reason than you think. Miss Parker is here. She is not in a good shape, but I am sure she will make it. Ryan is not injured at all. Jarod is the one I really worried about at the moment, he has no idea that they are with us and knowing him he may be about to make a big mistake."
Sydney was stunned about the revelation. "How was you able to find Miss Parker so fast?" he was finally able to ask.
"We did not find her, she found us. She drove directly up to our cabin," the Major declared, after a few seconds he added. "I will go and try to reach him via his laptop, if you have any chance to talk with Jarod, tell him he should come home, he knows where he can find us." With this the Major disconnected the line.
Sydney stood there staring at the phone in his hand as the last words from the Major sunk in, '...she found us. She drove directly up to our cabin.’ God she had been aware of their location all the time.
He was still lost in his thoughts as the door to Miss Parker’s former office was pushed open forcefully. Sydney turned and looked directly in the worried face of Sam.
Sam looked at the older man, a bit unsure. This could be a big mistake. He shifted, a bit uneasy, from foot to foot. He had always been loyal to Miss
Parker and he still felt really guilty for his actions three years ago when Jared was captured by the Centre. But this might be his chance to make up for it a bit.
"Dr. Green," he addressed the older man respectfully." Jarod turned himself in a few minutes ago. "
part VII
by Nicolette & paula h
"How is she? " Margaret asked, fearful. The worried look on her husband's face gave him away before he even spoke.
"I stopped the bleeding, that is all I could do for her now. She started to shake and fantasize; she called for her mother. I have never heard anything like this before, she talked with her, asked her if she was real and if she would now stay with her. She begged her mother not to leave her." A shudder run down the Major's spine as he remembered the scene.
"For a moment I thought she would die right away. " he added with a sigh. "To be honest I have no idea how she was able to make it the whole way up here."
"She had no choice," Margaret replied, "she knew that she was badly wounded, she needed to bring her son to a safe place, to people who would protect him against The Centre no matter what, us. "
When his wife mentioned the little boy the Major looked around, searching for him. When he could not see him he worried a bit. When Jake dragged him out of the car he had heard him scream, and he had heard more than one painful grunt from Jake when he was kicked by Ryan.
Not that he could fault him for this, he must had been scared as hell. He just hoped that the shock was not to much for him.
"Where is Ryan?" he finally asked, the worry about his grandson evident in every word.
"Uh, " Emily spoke for the first time, "he is in my bedroom, sleeping"
The embarrassed and guilty look on his daughter's face raised some suspicions in the Major. He cocked a questioning eyebrow at the young woman.
"Look," she tried to defend herself, "It was not my fault, he was completely frantic, he never stopped screaming and threw around everything he could get a hand on, just go and look at my room, it looks like after hurricane ." Emily hesitated for a moment. "It took me long enough to make him finally drink the Kool-Aid, it was only Benadryl, it was Jake's idea, it made him drowsy." she finished in a defensive tone.
"You drugged him?" her father asked, not believing his ears.
"It was only antihistamine, what Jake took for the bee sting. I wish you had seen, there was no other chance for Jake and me, the only other option would have been to tie him to the bed." Emily finished contrarily. She didn't dare to look at her father, or her mother, she felt guilty enough for it. But they had not seen the rage from the boy. She wished Jake was here to confirm her words, but he had decided to stay with Ryan, just in case. She was ready to defend herself even more when she heard the chuckle of her mother. Her head snapped up and watched the couple in front of her, disbelieving.
Her mother was now laughing and even her father looked like he would laugh out loud any minute. For a moment she feared her parents had lost it.
"Oh, Emily do you know what you said? Jake and you, a strong young woman and a teenage boy where both not able to handle a not-even-three year old baby." Margaret gasped trying to get air back into her lungs. She was aware that her laughter was almost hysterical, the last hours had just been to much.
Finally Emily joined them. She was sure that if the situation was not so sad it would have made a great joke for anyone who saw the fight with Ryan. She briefly wondered who gave him his name, the "Little King," it seemed that somebody had picked it out on purpose.
The urge to laugh faded as soon as it had hit them and it was suddenly absolutely quiet inside of the cabin, except an occasional knick and knack from the open fireplace.
"I'll call Sydney, it's overdue. Maybe he has news on what happened there and he may even know where Jarod is." Not waiting or expecting any response, he took out this cell phone and hit speed dial.
Margaret rose from the sofa, not waiting for a her husband to even start the call, with a short excuse she walked over to the bedroom where Miss Parker now lay.
****
Jarod stopped the car. He was less than two miles from The Centre, but Parker and his... her son were no longer there. He was at a complete loss. It was difficult enough to comprehend the child's existence; another Centre betrayal; and now he had no chance to help. To help, he smiled at himself, to save the day... to ride in and play hero, just like Parker always said he did. Parker, she'd been shot rescuing his son from that hell. Like mother like daughter. How badly was she injured? There were sweepers looking for her. Where could she go? Not her home, she was too smart for that. He could only hope she had some sort of plan. He had none.
A blast of wind buffeted the car and knocked him out of his reverie. If he couldn't go to his child, at least he might be able to keep The Centre away. He dialed The Centre's number as he watched the wind sweep snowflakes across the hood of his car. "Mr. Lyle, please," he said to the evening receptionist.
"Mr. Lyle is no longer employed here. Is there anyone else you wish to speak with?" she responded as she activated a trace on the call, per standing order on any calls for "former" employees.
"Mutambo, then," Jarod smiled wickedly. So Lyle had been found out. Setting up Miss Parker was not a career enhancing move. Good, he hoped the bastard was already dead, it would save him the trouble.
"Is Mr. Mutambo expecting your call? Please give me your name. I need to check it against a correspondence list."
"Jarod." If Jarod could have seen the receptionist face, he would have been gratified. Her eyes widened; she did not need the list. She did not know who this Jarod person was but she did know that any calls from him were to be directed to the recipient immediately. She was glad she had already started the trace.
He waited only moments until Mutambo's rich voice filled his ears, "Mutambo here." Jarod felt like the icy wind hit the back of his neck. He could feel it moving down his back to his heart, which froze with fear.
Jarod took a deep shaking breath, steeling himself for what he was going to try. "Call off your dogs."
"Why, Jarod, to what do I owe this call?" Mutambo smiled, possible victory from the jaws of defeat. "We are not currently pursuing you."
"You are trailing my son. As you have trailed me and my clone."
"Your son? I am impressed. Your knowledge of Centre activities is rather amazing." That leak needed to be plugged.
"Human beings are not activities," anger re-warmed Jarod's soul. He had to do this. "Call them off."
"And in return...?
"Me."
"The child has possibly greater potential...."
"He is still too young for many sims. A few years of freedom will not dull his abilities. It has not dulled mine. I can prove that. And a bird in the hand...."
May bring others from the bush. A new plan swiftly formed in Mutambo's mind. "You will cooperate?"
"Yes," Jarod gritted his teeth. Could he; would he? At least this would buy Parker time. "This time I want Sydney in charge."
"You are presumptuous. Very well, I am calling back the sweepers," he nodded his head and an assistant picked up another line to follow the order. "How will you know that they are back? When will you arrive?"
"I will know, and within ten minutes of their return. Sydney or no cooperation. You tried to force me before."
"Sydney, perhaps, we will make no further agreement until you are here."
Jarod broke the connection. Mutambo smiled. A further agreement? Does a man make an agreement with his hounds? No more than with the antelope they pursue. Once this hound was back under The Centre's chain, he would obey. And there was time to recover the pup. A short space of freedom and experience of The Centre's power might make him easier to train. Mutambo moved to watch the increasing snow outside his window. The boy was out there somewhere, watching his mother bleed.
****
"Syd, please pinch me," Broots nearly whined, "wake me up." He had followed Sydney back into the Centre, not knowing what else to do. Now they where standing in Miss Parkers office, her former office, after what has happened here during the last hours she surely would not be back. Broots silently prayed that she was not injured too badly, but from the amount of blood they had found on the parking lot, it was definitely more than a scratch.
"I know how you feel, " the older man assured him, " I can not believe it myself., after all those year of hunting, tricks and sacrifices, now this." Sydney felt older than ever in his life before. Everything was going downhill and he felt simply helpless and useless. God what a mess. He carefully scanned the room. Finally his eyes rested on a beautifully decorated box, placed next to her briefcase. She must have been about to leave when she received that damn mail from her brother.
After Mr. Parker was gone he had thoughts the siblings had called a truce, fragile but steady. He had been proven wrong, again. He asked himself what else must happen to finally let him see that nothing at The Centre was as it seemed.
Absently, Sydney traced the patterns on the box, carefully he lifted the lit and pushed the paper away. A beautiful doll. He didn't need to read the note, even before he opened the box he knew it was a present from Jarod. Thoughtfully, he stared into the porcelain face, a face that reminded him so much of the woman he worried about now. The doll smiled at him, a frozen smile, prefect beauty for eternity but, even so, easy to destroy beyond repair.
The shrill of his cell phone shocked him out of his daydream. He glanced over to Broots who stood there silently observing him. He saw the same fear he felt mirrored in the eyes of the younger man.
"Broots, take the box with the doll, please" Sydney ordered while he took out his cell phone to answer the call.
******
As carefully as she could, Margaret opened the bedroom door and slipped into the room. She stooped next to the bed and looked at the sleeping form. She was no doctor, but one was not needed to tell the young woman had been badly injured. Her skin was pale and sweaty.
It was the second time in her life she saw her; the first was a life time ago. She had hoped to meet her son, but as soon as she saw him this woman was there with a bunch of Sweepers.
About four years later she had finally met her son and he had given her the picture of her. A snap shot, clearly taken with a tele, but every time she looked at that picture she had the feeling the woman on it would look directly into her soul. As she told Emily, she knew how much she meant to her son.
Margaret sat down onto the bed, stroking some strands hair out off Parker's face. She had risked everything to take her son out and now it seemed she had lost. She had not only let her husband and Jake escape on more than one occasion, but she had known exactly where they where to meet and spend the holidays. She prayed to God that Charles was able to reach Jarod and let him know that she was here before he could do anything completely stupid.
Miss Parker stirred and opened her eyes, her fevered gaze fell on the woman sitting on her bed.
"Mom? I am sorry, I failed you." Her voice nearly inaudible, her eyes fell closed and her whole body turned limp.
For a split second Margaret was in panic, but than she noticed the even rise and fall of her breast, it seemed that she had finally to fallen into a deep slumber, at least she hoped so. She had lost so much blood and needed to rest more than anything else.
The older women stood up and rearranged the quilt and covers, Miss Parker responded and snuggled deeper into them.
Margaret was about to leave but turned back and placed a light kiss on the forehead of the woman, "Sweet dreams, Morgana" she finally whispered into her ear and left to check up on her grandson.
*****
Jarod watched the sweepers' town cars return to The Centre through the increasing snow. He waited nine minutes, he would not give them any more time or cooperation than promised. He had demanded Sydney. If Mutambo would not allow that, he would not perform. He had promised them himself, nothing more.
It was time to live up to his promise. Jarod gunned the motor and drove into The Centre parking lot. He left the headlights on when he got out. He wanted to see their faces; he did not want them to see the expression on his. He barely took three steps when he saw the trail of blood Parker had left during her flight. It was hard to tell in darkness, but new white snow was trapped in what looked to be a large amount of spilled blood. He stopped dead in his tracks, wanting to turn and run.
He forced himself forward. This was for his son, the son he might never see. It was the best plan he could think of, to keep him free. He could see people through the door. He could not tell if Sydney was there or not, and he almost panicked. Without Sydney he might never know how badly Parker was injured. Once inside he might never know if she survived.
Mutambo watched the car pull into the lot. He saw Jarod's shadow in the headlights; watched him stop; held back the sweepers who would have gone out to retrieve him. Mutambo smiled, it was always best to honor your enemies, in defeat or in victory. He wanted to see Jarod acknowledge this defeat. He was gratified to see the man start forward again. He watched him stride across the rest of the lot to the door. A gust of snow-filled wind blew around him just before he reached the door, trying to pull him back. Mutambo saw the look on Jarod's face, the warrior's mask. It was a shame he served another purpose, this one could have been made into a great hunter.
Jarod walked into The Centre and stopped, allowing his eyes to adjust. He looked quickly from face to face. He did not see Sydney.
"Come in, Jarod," Mutambo gestured as he spoke. "I see you are a man of your word."
"Where is Sydney?"
"We will discuss that. You are not in a position to make demands." Sweepers moved between Jarod and the door.
"You promised that Sydney would be here, in charge."
"I said, 'perhaps.'"
"I said, 'Sydney,'" Jarod growled. They had lied, he was not surprised, but he was angry. He started to move toward Mutambo and a sweeper grabbed each arm. Jarod fought to remain calm. Every minute he cooperated was another minute the boy was free. "All right," he shook off the sweepers and Mutambo signaled them to stand down. "What now?"
"Now, the sweepers will go back out to make sure your son is not sitting in a car somewhere beside his dead mother." Mutambo signaled the sweepers to return to their cars. Four remained to control Jarod, if necessary.
Jarod could not breathe as he watched the sweepers walk out the door. They were going after the boy, "You gave your word!" he spun toward Mutambo; the sweepers grabbed his arms again. Mutambo did not stop them.
"I agreed to call off the search in exchange for your return. They are not actively trailing the boy. But he is not yet three years old. The woman was shot, in disobedience to my wishes, and may not be... able to care for him. This is a precaution, for his well being." Mutambo smiled. "As to Sydney, we will see if you deserve such a reward. For the present you will be treated as any other who has disobeyed The Centre." He spoke to the guards, "Take him to SL-26."
Jarod did not fight the sweepers. There would be time enough to fight. "You will get nothing from me."
Mutambo's smile broadened, "Ah, but we already have..." He turned and walked away.
******
Lyle could not believe this. Where had his plan started to fail, She had reacted exactly the way he had expected. Running off with the boy, she even tried to reach her own car.
He paced around in his small cell. He had underestimated her, he had not expected her to start a gunfight. She had fired two full clips, but not hit him once. First he had called himself lucky, but now he was sure she had missed him on purpose.
Everything for her little bastard. He had known from the beginning that it would be a big mistake to let them meet. The Triumverate was sometimes completely blind. She was able to track anything and anybody down. But she failed again and again with Jarod and his family. All he ever wanted was proof. He had collected evidence over the years, but his traitorous sister had always been able to wind herself out.
But this time, this time he had caught her. He remembered the trail of blood in the snow. She was dying, no he corrected himself, she was surely dead by now. She had nobody she could turn to.
A smile came up on Lyle’s lips, he imagined his dead sister somewhere out in her car. This would be a good lesson for the little lab rat, spending a night with his dead mother in a freezing car would teach him not to disobey anymore.
Lyle thought about the possibilities with the boy under his control. All he needed was to get out of this rotten damn hole.
*****
Two more sweepers joined Jarod's honor guard at the elevator. He knew they had been ready to intervene if he had resisted Mutambo's orders at the door. They searched him and called the elevator.
As the elevator descended, Jarod mused that this had not been the smartest move of his life. Briefly, he even considered trying to fight his way out of here, maybe grab a sweeper's gun... and possibly leave his son an orphan. His search for family had brought him full circle; it would be the death of him yet. If he intended to get out of this position, he would have to pretend to cooperate. He needed to be sure his son... his son... had the freedom he deserved. He had to know they got away, that Parker had survived and found a refuge... Refuge... Sydney. Did Sydney even know that he had walked back in the front door? Mutambo did not intend to live up to his side of the bargain, that was hardly a surprise. What next?
The next stop was an all-too familiar sub-level. Rows of faceless doors, except for the one with the sweeper beside it. It had a barred window, as did the cell across from it. Jarod did not notice that he had stopped walking. Could they have Parker and the boy already? Did they want him to watch her die like her mother? He pulled back, and the sweepers pulled him forward. He deliberately refused to look in the other cell.
The sweepers pushed him into his cell and moved back, out of view. A surveillance camera was his new companion. Jarod stood at the far wall of the cell, unable to bring himself to look through the door. He heard the elevator again. A flash of Lyle's triumphant face from his last visit made Jarod queasy. But Lyle had crossed Mutambo; Jarod was not his toy this time. He wondered who his new playmate would be.
The cell door opened and Mr. Raines walked in. Shock was only the first of Jarod's emotions. Raines smiled at the obviously nervous man. "Hello, Jarod," he still had a slight wheeze to his voice, "welcome back, again. I just came down to tell you I will be taking care of you for a while. Mutambo has informed me that you offered to cooperate under certain conditions. Unfortunately, I am not in a position to grant your wishes."
Jarod frowned, he began to make an angry reply, but Raines stopped him with a gesture. "However, I am able to reward good behavior. In exchange for your nonviolent return, I offer you this bit of information. No sign of the boy, Ryan is his name I believe, has been found. Hopefully, Miss Parker was somewhat more successful in her 'rescue' attempt than her mother was." Raines saw disbelief on Jarod's face. "I say this, not because I want the boy outside The Centre, this is where he belongs. But because there is a snow storm and the temperature is rapidly dropping. If Miss Parker succumbed to her injury, there is a good chance she took the boy with her.
"As to your demand to see Sydney, that will be considered as a reward for good behavior. As to our pursuit of Miss Parker and our stolen property, that will be the subject of a Triumverate meeting. Your complete cooperation may influence their decision." Raines turned to leave the cell, "One final thing, just as your good behavior will be rewarded, bad behavior will be severely punished." He smiled, "God be with you," and left.
Jarod walked to the door. God? What did God have to do with this place? He watched Raines walk away as far as he could, then looked at the cell across the hall from his.
Lyle looked back at him, an odd glimmer in his eyes, "Welcome back to Hell...."
*****
"This is Sydney", the psychiatrist answered the phone, observing Broots, who carefully carried the box with the doll out of the room.
"Sydney, this is Major Charles," came the immediate reply.
Sydney closed his eyes in relief, hopefully the Major would know where Jarod was, so he could help them to find Miss Parker. Sydney just prayed that Jarod was close enough to make it in time, Miss Parker had no time to loose.
"Major, I am glad you called. We have a little problem here, Sydney started. Before he could go on and explain the whole situation.
Major Charles interrupted him, "We have no time for details yet, do you know where is my son? Do you know where Jarod is?
The desperate sound of the voice on the other end of the line made Sydney frown. Confused he tried to make sense out of the words. No time for detail and why was he asking for Jarod. He had hoped to get the Pretender’s location from his father.
"I hoped you could tell us, " Sydney replied calmly. "We need his help, Miss Parker freed their son, but was caught by her brother on the parking lot. He shot her, and from the blood we found there we need to find her as soon as possible. "
The silence on the other end was tugging on Sydney’s nerves. Finally he heard a soft curse. The Major spoke again. "I'm worried that Jarod has not called you as well. We need to find him, but for another reason than you think. Miss Parker is here. She is not in a good shape, but I am sure she will make it. Ryan is not injured at all. Jarod is the one I really worried about at the moment, he has no idea that they are with us and knowing him he may be about to make a big mistake."
Sydney was stunned about the revelation. "How was you able to find Miss Parker so fast?" he was finally able to ask.
"We did not find her, she found us. She drove directly up to our cabin," the Major declared, after a few seconds he added. "I will go and try to reach him via his laptop, if you have any chance to talk with Jarod, tell him he should come home, he knows where he can find us." With this the Major disconnected the line.
Sydney stood there staring at the phone in his hand as the last words from the Major sunk in, '...she found us. She drove directly up to our cabin.’ God she had been aware of their location all the time.
He was still lost in his thoughts as the door to Miss Parker’s former office was pushed open forcefully. Sydney turned and looked directly in the worried face of Sam.
Sam looked at the older man, a bit unsure. This could be a big mistake. He shifted, a bit uneasy, from foot to foot. He had always been loyal to Miss
Parker and he still felt really guilty for his actions three years ago when Jared was captured by the Centre. But this might be his chance to make up for it a bit.
"Dr. Green," he addressed the older man respectfully." Jarod turned himself in a few minutes ago. "
