Parker was so right about that.
I'm so addicted to your writing.
"I just discovered that my mother is dead, for Chrissake."
"I didn't kill her," Came Parker's simple rebuttal.
"No, you didn't, but the Centre, and you- you killed her hopes of ever finding me. Had you not interfered in Carthis—"
Suddenly dyspeptic, she whirled around, regarded him narrowly.
"Don't you dare blame me for that, Mister-first-one-to-find-the-answers-wins," she hissed with wide accusing eyes. "Mhm," she hummed with a nod. "You could afford to be smug when you thought you were going to win, and you always expected to win. Hell, I bet you were thrilled when you learned I was on the pursuit team. How convenient mm? You already had all the ammunition you needed and you knew exactly where to strike and when."
"My mother," she answered.
"I would never use your mother to hurt you," he said with equal measures of solemnity and disgust. "I only wanted to help you find the truth."
"The truth," she repeated with a curt nod, dropping her voice to a low sing-song taunt, "about what makes me sad," she mocked him. "Score one for genius boy. I think you realize now, finally, that there are never any winners where the Centre is concerned and if you must know: it does make me sad. Every. Single. Day,"
Date: 21/05/20 08:48 pm
Ergghamerd. So close. I love your writing!
"I'm afraid," panted Jarod, "that you're out of your jurisdiction, Detective."
"I wouldn't be much of detective, would I now, Jarod, if I didn't possess knowledge of my jurisdictional limitations."
Jarod laughed smugly, took a large stride forward. "You can't arrest me."
"You're absolutely correct, Jarod," Brandt agreed congenially. "I cannot arrest you. Furthermore, the officers on your six probably won't arrive in time to arrest you either. And in all probability," Brandt said, "you will outrun the K-9 unit."
The Pretender broke into a run, more determined than ever to be free. Brandt observed with remarkable patience and a grimace of sympathy for Jarod's ankle, and then said with some delicacy, "But Rachel's going to be waiting for you when you reach that top rung."
A clearly horrified Jarod slowed to an ungainly halt and pivoted.
"What did you say?"
Date: 21/05/20 08:30 pm
OMG. I swear I reviewed this chapter and all until the recent one but all I see is 11! So I will review again!! Well played by Sydney not giving any of Parker's secrets away and asking Jarod if he oberseved anything. I love that guy even if he is a headshrinker.Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 21/05/20 08:20 pm
I'd almost forgotten about Alex. You're an extraordinary author but I still can't believe how IN character they are. Like someone else said about your work it's pretender perfect. Please post more and thank you for what you've already posted.Reviewer: Markus Anonymous [Report This]
Date: 21/05/20 02:50 pm
Omg I totally didn't see that coming. Parker still doubting Jarod.... such a Parker thing to do but Alex didn't lie. I'm like seriously.. where is the lie? He told her the truth. Can't imagine what the hell will happen now but I want more NOW lol. Please. You're so freaking amazing.Reviewer: Jen Signed [Report This]
Date: 21/05/20 02:22 pm
I have to get to work after this chapter. I said that two chapters ago.
You dash it with comedy here and there but you also show that Jarod is in pain emotionally and physically and ... ouch. I feel for him. It's so realistic and like being there.
"Ethan frowned in disappointment. "Don't you think you're being a bit hard on her?" He asked, and then after an interval of silence, said, "You know, you were on Sydney's sofa bed when I finally showed up. It couldn't have been easy for her to get you onto that bed—funny story, actually: she decided it would be best to leave you in the chair, and move the chair—with you sitting unconscious in it—from the kitchen to the sitting room."
"I suppose she'll want a medal for that," Jarod said with a measure of distaste.
"I still can't believe that you slept through it all, being rotated this way and rotated that—"
"Enough rotating," groused Jarod.
"Oh, right. Ha. Sorry about that."
"I think the last time I experienced vertigo I was running simulations for NASA."
Ethan bent at the waist and assisted Jarod with untangling the IV. "There we go. Now, let's see if we can get you on your feet," he said and then observed as his brother sat up, only to pitch forward suddenly. "NASA, hmm?" Ethan said, conversationally. "That sounds interesting."
"Yes, yes," sang Jarod dryly, "puking your guts out is nothing if not interesting. Silly me—I couldn't imagine optimized nutritional supplement tasting any worse than it did going down."
"Ah," Ethan said, grasping Jarod around the waist. "I take it the flavor didn't improve on its way back up then."
"Ethan. Ethan, I can't do this. I can't do this," Jarod cried wretchedly, staggering backwards."
Stupid Rachel. Rachel shot him not Parker. He's really still hurt from Carthis and .... oooh why aren't you writing the novels?
Ohh I love this part too and I love all of the parts lol.
"Nothing," Broots said with a small, dismissive wave. "She asked me to tell you to reconsider and stay on as long as you need to, and don't do anything—uh hasty."
"Hasty?" Jarod repeated with a frown of skepticism.
"Stupid," amended Broots. "Tell geniusboy not to do anything stupid—those were her exact words."
Jarod answered with a curt nod. "That's more like it. Where is she? Renewal wing? T-board?"
"Jarod, she specifically—" Broots clamped his mouth closed, grimaced; his words hung in the air, heavy and suggestive. Jarod's eyes grew wide, dangerous.
"Where is she?" Jarod repeated, the knot of dread expanding, twisting his intestines.
"Jarod," stammered Broots.
"Where is she?" The Pretender shouted.
"KwaZulu-Natal," Broots answered sharply, and observed Jarod's harsh intake of breath, the dark eyes snapping close.
Jarod's head dropped heavily, miserably to his chest. He dragged a hand over his face. "Oh, my God," he exhaled the words."
Jarod shouting... at Broots... cos he loves Parker.
The reviews were a pleasant surprise. Thank you.Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 12/05/20 04:53 am
This is freaking amazing. Everything you write it seems is freaking amazing.
"Sydney," cried Jarod, desperately. "Sydney, open the door."
He put the toe of his black leather shoe into the door (in lieu of using his fist). Once, twice. The door flew opened on the third kick, and Jarod, still pressed against it, literally stumbled into the darkened kitchen with a shriek of surprise; the olive drab duffel skidded across hardwood flooring that had been polished to a high shine.
Regaining his balance, Jarod pressed himself against a bare burgundy wall trimmed with polished mahogany wainscoting. He heard the door close behind him, said raggedly, "Lock it, Sydney. I'm going to be here for a while."
"Don't be so certain of that, Jarod."
Jarod stiffened, and then heaved a dispirited sigh. I don't have the energy for this. For her. For her petulance and intransigence.
"Miss Parker," he panted in a voice tight with fatigue, and at last swung his gaze at her."
But Jarod gets an award for best line EVA here
"She wore a black pantsuit whose hip length jacket was unbuttoned, a burgundy camisole, and a sneer of unequivocal malevolence upon her face. She shuddered. Angrily.
"Sydney said you would come."
"Did he?" Said Jarod, intrigued. He brightened, briefly. Dark eyes glimmered with something that was entirely foreign to Parker.
"Mhm. I didn't believe him," she murmured, and then narrowed her eyes at him, and said, crisply, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."
He advanced on her with surprising alacrity, obliterated her personal space, and with a grunt of exertion, sagged against the recently installed walnut butcher's block.
"Because, Miss Parker," he answered in a tight, grave voice, "someone may have beaten you to it."
SOMEONE MAY HAVE BEATEN YOU TO IT.
That's a good reason I think.
"He hated feeling vulnerable, relying on anyone, let alone her. And he detested the weapon in his hand almost as much as he detested Parker in that moment—that, however, did not prevent him from employing the weapon, fondling it obscenely in an attempt to gain her cooperation.
Hypocrisy. The new black.
"I am not asking you," he snarled at her.
"You won't shoot me," she returned, disinterestedly, dismissively.
"Won't I?" Jarod hissed. "I can't think of a single reason why I shouldn't. Can you?"
Hypocrisy. The new black.
I can't even begin to write like that.
"It's," she began hesitantly, "it looks like a—a tangential laceration."
"Subcutaneous then?" He inquired with a measure of relief in his voice.
"Looks like it," she answered brusquely, and then added hastily, "Across the shoulder," she said, her eyes intently following the bullet's path. "Reentry at the upper right arm." Here her voice dropped lower, incrementally. Jarod had to strain to hear, but ascertained that the bullet had tunneled a two inch subcutaneous circuit though his arm.
Parker, however, imagined the bullet wreaking havoc on the brachial plexus, perhaps severing the subclavian artery. She was thinking of death, of Thomas.
The gunman (gunwoman, in this case) could have fired at closer range, could have been packing higher caliber heat, could have aimed a few inches to the left. The bullet could have struck Jarod in the left shoulder, penetrated deep tissue, wreaked havoc on all sorts of nerves, muscles, and bones that he might have spent years in misery (and in and out of various operating rooms, not to mention physical therapy) recovering from.
The bullet could have entered his chest, collapsed a lung, shredded his aorta, taken a piece of his heart with it as it bid his lifeless body adieu and exited.
Jarod could be dead.
Dead like Thomas."
You blow me away every single freaking time Mirage.
"Don't move," Parker cautioned.
Jarod started. Grimaced. Terror sharpened his eyes, hardened his features, intensified his anger. "Because you'll kill me?" He snarled at her.
"Because," she corrected frothily, "those sheets you're lying between, geniusboy, are a hundred percent Egyptian Cotton, ten hundred twenty thread count per square inch. I found them in Italy and paid nearly two-thousand dollars for them."
Realization touched his features as he struggled (but failed) to raise himself up on bruised and abraded elbows. With a sigh of exasperation, he abandoned his efforts, returned his head to the pillow.
She doesn't want blood spilled in her sanctuary. More blood.
Her precious sheets.
Her sanctum sanctorum.
His gaze dropped to the odd tugging at his arm; he frowned at the IV line, the bruising. Dots of dried blood were evidence of failed attempts to start a line. He studied the clear bag hanging from a coat rack, read the label. It was a broad spectrum antibiotic. He'd forgotten to steal antibiotics, had been too preoccupied with an overwhelming fear of hemorrhaging to death at the time. Somehow, he was too angry and too afraid to express, or even feel, any sort of gratitude.
"I've often wondered," he murmured, "how it is that you're able to sleep at night, Miss Parker. Two thousand dollars, huh?" He inquired, lifting a cynical brow. His eyes danced across the room, met hers. He regarded her narrowly. His jaw tightened, his dark, probing eyes narrowed. "Well," he drawled, "I suppose it takes what it takes. Although," he added cruelly with a snort of disdain, "you're probably out cold before you even touch your precious sheets—it is still scotch, isn't it, Miss Parker?"
Two perfectly defined brows lifted over gray-blue eyes that maintained an expression of cool indifference. She straightened, fashioned a smile (a false smile that, quite literally, hurt her face).
Ah, the whiplash invective continues. Well! Fuck him. Him and his sanctimonious song and dance. The bastard.
The motherfucking bastard.
It's true: no good deed."
I love what he says. You give him some good zingers.
"Two thousand dollars. I suppose it take what it takes" he's talking about how she's able to sleep and then says "but you're probably out cold it's still scotch isn't it?" WOW. Just WOW.Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 12/05/20 04:46 am
I giggled aloud. Zane. I loved her. She worked well with Jarod and wasn't too trusting either lol.
Rachel freaking is the best thing ever.
"She, however, imagined the thirty foot descent, a veritable free fall that could end in one of two ways, each with a fair amount of pain involved, and she prayed to anyone listening that he hadn't cleared the rocks, or the shallow edges of the natural hot springs. She not only imagined his body spinning and falling, she was certain she could live on that image for years, and that it would provide all the sustenance her body required.
There's no way he could have dived dead center into the springs, to safety, and even if he had possessed the agility, at his age, hell, at any age, the impact would have been painful. Shock might have induced unconsciousness. Either way he's dead.
Those were all just a few of the arguments she presented to Brandt and some tough hot shot broad from the NSA called Zane. "He had no where to hide," Zane lambasted Burke. Again.
"Doesn't matter now anyway," returned Rachel. "He's dead."
"Is that right?" Said Zane in a voice colored with righteous incredulity. "Dead. That remains to be seen. The divers haven't found a body, the K9 teams haven't sniffed out human remains."
"His blood was found at the scene," Rachel averred.
"I've seen more blood at a Dolce & Gabbana half-off bra sale in Beverly Hills," returned Zane with a snort. "We have to assume that Jarod is alive."
"Based on what—"
"He's not here," Andrea pointed out the obvious. "He's out there, and he's dangerous, and he has to be stopped."
I love the cop talk stuff. You really get deep in and do the research and make it so plausible.
I'm in awe.
Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 12/05/20 04:35 am
Back at the Centre it's all just so Centre-y and I get giddy reading it and so much nostalgia flooding me right now.
Parker's snark is spot on
""I've reviewed his plan," Raines continued in a laudatory tone, meeting Lyle's gaze, "and it's brilliant."
"Oh, yes," sang Parker bitterly, "it's a screaming success if the goal was multiple causalities," she said reproachfully.
She and Sydney exchanged glances. His expression was grave, oddly tender. He turned to Raines, said, "Jarod had the forethought to gain entrance to the adjunct, to target Centre-contracted personnel, to confiscate damning evidence. He was successful. You forget that this is Jarod we're talking about, Raines," reminded Sydney. "It would be rather unwise of you, of any one among us," he amended, alluding no doubt to the ever ambitious Lyle, "to equate his return to the Centre's radar with victory."
Lyle always thinks he's smarter doesn't he?
Lyle waved dismissively. "Meh. Doesn't matter. He's going to make a mistake and when he does—"
"Excuse me," a voice called from the open door. "You're going to want to switch on the television."
Lyle frowned, reached for the remote. "Which channel?" Inquired Lyle.
"Any channel, Sir," the sweeper returned.
"Mm, must be juicy," Lyle murmured, reclining in the leather chair to absorb the news:
"...gruesome scene early this morning. Randi Mann, from our sister affiliate, is live with the very latest on the heinous attack that has rocked the small community of Jupiter Bay, Virginia."
"Thank you, Jill. Authorities are saying very little until the families of the victims are notified. The police are, however, releasing several images of this man and they are asking anyone who sees him to please call 911 immediately and to use extreme caution as he is believed to be heavily armed and extremely dangerous. Back to you, Jill."
"It appears that Jarod isn't the only one making mistakes," taunted Parker when an agitated Lyle switched off the television. "That antique shoppe is a front for one of our annexes. The police take one look at the information we house there and—"
EVERY Channel. Every freaking channel I love it. Plus that last bit:
"When the room righted itself, Parker was staring at three lifeless bodies. She arranged her features carefully, retained her stolid self-possession. She displayed neither pleasure nor anger. Cox observed her for several moments, and then returned his gun to its holster.
She lifted a brow, observed the grins of satisfaction on both Cox and Mikalle's faces when she said coolly, matter of factly,
"I suggest someone call housekeeping before that stains the floor."
Date: 12/05/20 04:28 am
Rachel's reaction is freaking priceless. She totally loses it sometimes on the Profiler too and you nailed it. Marks really screwed her up and that makes all of this even MORE plausible. I'm screaming in fangirl hysterics.
"The man was manipulative, had an answer for everything. Moreover—and perhaps more troubling—he inspired loyalty, could most likely recruit thousands, if not more, citizens into his fold. After all, Rachel was a trusted member of law enforcement, one of the good cops; she was a former FBI agent, a criminal profiler for God's sake, and she had vetted, vouched for the man. Worse: she'd slept with him.
Brandt turned suddenly to confront the thud behind him, met Rachel's forlorn gaze as she lunged ungainly on liquid legs and slumped against the reception desk.
Incoherency and in-coordination had morphed into rage.
"Wilkes was the name he used before," she offered in a thick voice, her words clipped and strained. "He had FBI credentials, told Malone that he was sent down by Congress. An oversight committee or—or something." Or something, Brandt guessed."
Brandt may be my favorite non Pretender original character EVER. He's like Andy Griffith from Mayberry but less hickish and more intelligent.
"Malone was right.
He, however, wouldn't rub her face in this mess; he wouldn't denigrate or scold. No. Malone would simply board a jet and show up and try to convince her to sleep. She would know, nevertheless. This is my fault. I trusted Jarod.
I trusted him.
She'd left behind a loose end and it had just unraveled.
Rachel is unraveling too. You tie it all together perfectly.Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 12/05/20 04:23 am
"VHS is unreliable by the way, not to mention obsolete."
"Mm, yes, well," she murmured dryly, "I have to admit, this gives a whole new meaning to 'eyes-only info."
"And it just screams intrigue and mystery, doesn't it?"
"Mm," purred Parker, "in a thousand languages."
I LOVE THAT.
"Indiscriminate rampaging," said Parker with a snort of disdain. "It's just Bobby's style," she murmured, expecting to see her twin's smug face in the next instant —that wouldn't have surprised her. He was a sociopath, after all, and he'd pulled the stunt before.
She'd cautioned the Director, to no avail, and could only shake her head in disgust when her twin was boosted to the tower where he'd no doubt take his havoc-wreaking to a whole new level and inflict systematic damage. Parker was looking forward to the I-told-you-so debriefing.
The smile disappeared from her lips, however— or rather was chased away. She drew a sharp breath when the surveillance feed began playing; it commenced unceremoniously at the precise moment of attack.
There were no wasted seconds watching live and unsuspecting employees doing their jobs, snapshots of life and death in lurid juxtaposition."
You're one of those authors who after reading I have to sit and have thoughts about. I have so many thoughts and ideas that I can't put in words. You make these scenes so vivid, it's all plausible.
You get your hooks in deep and don't let go.
Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 12/05/20 04:18 am
How do you even write like that? I mean... how do you? Look at this:
"He met Jarod's gaze, smiled amiably; after all, someone had to maintain some standard of professionalism inside those hallowed walls. "You must be Holliday," he said.
Jarod nodded, advanced, extended his hand.
"Any relation?" Inquired Brandt, firmly gripping the proffered hand.
"Uh, no, but I was a dental hygienist once," answered Jarod humbly, to which Brandt responded with a hearty laugh.
"I'll bet you were," he said, shaking his fist and then tossing imaginary dice."
You put so many brilliant details that really make a story a story worth telling. I'm amazed.
Jarod one more time shocked that he isn't trusted completely:
"And suspicion, too, no doubt, Jarod mused. He was mortified (although from all outward appearances he retained his aplomb and professionalism) to discover that Brandt had 'called around', that people no longer simply trusted him, that they had to make it so fucking complicated. Jarod had never expected extraordinary concessions; nevertheless, he could scarcely abide the extempore interrogation. I'm not the bad guy here."
Masterful Mirage. I love your work.Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 12/05/20 04:13 am
You really like Broots don't you? You have him so protective of her just like he was on the show oh Mirage so much nostalgia here. It's like watching an episode being there. I love the new upgrades. They are the Centre. There should be high tech instruments. Excellente!Reviewer: Jillian Signed [Report This]
Date: 09/05/20 09:26 pm
Your chapter notes! I'm laughing way too loudly. I appreciate that you are genuinely concerned for readers, the doctor Jarod cringers. So... you're not one of them? But no you wouldn't be because you write about it. Unless this is some therapy of confronting the thing you fear. I told you I was curious about you. You are really a MIRAGE Mirage. Broots toughed it out. I think he would say do it fast and want it over. He loves Debbie and that's he doing this for her is another nod to the tv series. I can tell you love this show. You know it well. Please update when you're feeling better and stay well. Cheers!Reviewer: James Signed [Report This]
Date: 22/04/20 02:44 am
Tehehee. Miss Parker eager to compromise? Hehee. Nope. Jarod has no problem there. These adult situations between Jarod and Parker are something that we should have seen on our tvs. I'm grateful to you that I get to see them when I read this.Reviewer: James Signed [Report This]
Date: 22/04/20 02:22 am
Broots. You never disappoint with your characterisations. You bring back all the good feelings Mirage. Brilliant transition to Jarod and Miss Parker making out. I love the details that mean so much. This kiss statue in the book Jarod was reading when he was a child and Miss Parker came in the room. I'm glad he's hanging on to the book. I wonder if he can hang on to her. I hope so.Reviewer: James Signed [Report This]
Date: 22/04/20 01:57 am
Thank you for the missing scene, for all of the missing scenes.
The tension is crazy good.
Date: 22/04/20 01:44 am
Date: 22/04/20 01:34 am