Tolerance?

Sydney grinned widely and took a sip of his beer. "I've never had so much fun."

"Oh really?!" she snapped. "How nice for you. Now, why the hell did Boy Wonder lead us here? I'd rather have stayed in good old America."

"He'll have his reasons"; Sydney said, and she noticed his pronounciation was even worse than usual. "Come on Syd, let's get away from here", she ordered and took his arm. "Hey!" he protested. "I'm just enjoying myself."

"I - don't - care", she hissed into his face and dragged him with her.

"Jarod, show up!" she shouted in the middle of a street, not even noticing Sydney wasn't at her side anymore.

"You called foh mee?" a voice with a terrible accent said. She turned and saw Boy Wonder standing in front of her.

She sighed. "Okay Jarod, what is this about?"

"I amm soh glett you ar heer", he said and gave her another of his infuriating smiles.

Suddenly she had to grin and stepped closer, smelling his breath. "Jarod, are you drunk?"

"Nott ett all", he assured and took off his hat. "Actually, I'm just pretending to be a German."

She rolled her eyes. "How thrilling. Did The Pretenders come from Germany or what?"

"Miss Parker", he said and shook his head in mild reproof. "Didn't you know the Centre has its main branch here in Germany?"

She was taken aback. Her Centre, the thing she stood for, the thing she believed in, the thing she lived for... should be led by these fools who couldn't even speak English (her language, the language she believed in etc.)??

She sighed again and closed her eyes. "What's next? Is Mr. Raines a rabbi from Jerusalem?"

"Close", Jarod commented and she opened her eyes again to stare at him in complete shock. "What?!"

"William Raines is actually a farmer from Australia. He turned so evil because he had to leave his favorite pet kangaroo behind. It was called Riginee."

Her only answer was a hysteric laugh. "Okay. Let's play this game a little longer. Who is Mr. Lyle?"

"Mr. Lyle?" Jarod scratched his head. "Let me use my superior intelligence. Mr. Lyle is actually Nicolai Borissovitsch from Russia. He worked in the-"

"Wait, wait!" she shouted. "I think I know. The KGB??"

"Right! You're so clever. As for your father..."

"I'm curious to know." Her cigarette lay on the street, long forgotten.

"Mr. Parker's real name is Toni Lugosi, and he worked for the Italian mafia. And now I'll tell you a great secret." He bent forwards and she did so, too, not being able to stand the suspense.

"All the mafias", Jarod whispered, "in the whole world united and became an evil, mean and secret corporation known as..."

"THE CENTRE!" she shouted. A passer-by turned and frowned. "Hey, you're working for them, too?"

She shot him an icy glare and he fell on the floor, unconscious. As she was used to it. "Jarod, why should I believe you this nonsense?"

"Look", he said. "I figured it out cause I'm a Pretender. And sooner or later you'll find out it's troo, as you always doo."

"That was a rhyme." She smiled at him happily. What a genius he is, she thought in awe.

Jarod smiled back. "Germans are very poetical. Auf Wiedersehen Miss Parker!"

She watched him leave and began to laugh.

She woke up laughing.

*****

The next morning, she entered her father's office and looked at him examinatively, ignoring the two other occupants of the room.

Her father smiled at her. "Ciao bella - er - hello princess."

She smiled back. "Daddy, this night I had the strangest dream ever."

"Ve donn't vant to know about your drrreams, Miss Parrrker", Mr. Lyle said in a very strange accent. He looked pale, and she saw the rings under his eyes. "Too much vodka?" she asked innocently. He nodded, frowning. "I'm afrrraid dat's it."

Mr. Raines shook his head and rattled. "Naaaooow...", he stopped himself, shocked, and looked around, but fortunately nobody had heard his comment.

Except for Miss Parker, of course. "Hey Raines. You're shivering, and I can tell you must be. Very cold in the USA, isn't it?"

He looked at her in disdainment. "Curious you would saay such a thaaiing, Blaaandie."

Just in the moment that she frowned, her cell phone rang. She picked it up. "What Jarod?"

"Miss Parker, there's something I forgot to tell you."

"Which would be?"

"Well, your hair was changed chemically when you were born so that nobody would see the pale blond color..."

"Oh, let me guess." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Denmark?"

"Sweden."

She put down her phone and stared at the people in the room. "Cultural diversity, huh? - Jarod, there's something we still have to find out."

"What would that be?"

"Did your parents come from China or Greece?"

He laughed dryly and ended the call. She threw one last glance at the three men and left the room.
So many countries, and so many cultures. It was so nice to see they could all be united to form one big and powerful organisation, to work together in harmony for a good purpose.

Maybe there was something Miss Parker had learned from this - tolerance.