Disclaimer: See chapter 1

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Revelation


The Centre - Simlab


“Jarod!”


Sydney was worried. Jarod seemed to be in some sort of catatonic state. He was just sitting there, holding the figurine in his hand without blinking, staring straight through him. Once again he tried to rouse the pretender by calling his name.


He felt relief when the pretender looked up at him, his eyes confused, his demeanour bewildered.


"You had me worried. You seemed to be catatonic for about two minutes."


Sydney watched as Jarod tiredly rubbed his hand across his face. Then he saw a look that was familiar to him as daylight. The pretender knew something and it was confirmed when he met the brown eyes of Jarod and he heard the words.


"I know who has Miss Parker."


Lifting his eyebrows, he crossed his arms while he waited for his prodigy to explain his find.


**********


Ten miles outside Blue Cove


Harry couldn’t believe the scene that met his eyes. He was a tall black man in his mid thirties and has been a paramedic for ten years. A big town car lay on its roof, nearby a very dead deer had been dragged to the side of the road. Getting out of the ambulance he went ahead to assess the situation while his partner grabbed the gear.


“There’s one alive here.”


The doors were jammed and he had to clear the glass from the side window before he could grab the first man. There was nothing to be done about this one. His neck was broken. Pulling him out the window, he allowed Steven to take the body and lay it next to the overturned car.


The next guy was the one he had been after. He had heard the moan that had escaped his lips. Cautiously, he felt the neck and back for any contusions. The old guy seemed to be breathing fine and that made him optimistic. In most cases age counted against accident victims and shock was a real killer.


Grabbing the stretcher from his partner, he carefully slipped it underneath the body. Slipping the straps across, he felt surprise when a hand gripped his arm. Looking into the eyes of the old man, he saw fear and confusion. Before he could hope to gain some information the eyes slid close again. Making sure he had a pulse, he continued with securing his patient.


**********


The Centre


Jarod wheeled over towards where the table had been set up. Moving his notes around, he cleared a space for him to work in. Sydney had followed him and was standing slightly behind his left shoulder.


"See, the words he left on the mirror was not only for Miss Parker. He left it for me. He knew that Lyle would bring me back here and that I would be forced to do the simulation. He wanted me to feel what she felt, to experience her panic and fears."


Looking at Sydney over his shoulder he started to draw on one of the papers he had chosen.


"I follow what you're saying, Jarod, but why?"


"Because he wanted me to know that I was playing his game. His rules. Why put something as great as love next to something as devastating as destroyer. So that we focus on the whole sentence and not the words. The one thing that binds Miss Parker and me is …"


Glancing at the camera, Jarod knew that Sydney would understand his reluctance in saying the word aloud. Nodding his head in understanding he waited for Jarod to continue.


"There is one person who knew that. He taunted me once about losing the most important thing in my world."


**********


The Centre – Parking garage, level six


The dark saloon entered the level, coasting to a standstill next to where the blond haired man stood. A door opened, revealing the Albino.


“I trust nothing else went wrong on your way here.”


“No, Mr Lyle. If not for that unfortunate accident you would have had both. I will check on the local hospitals to see if anyone did survive. From where we sat, it didn’t look very promising.”


Lyle eyed the backseat. The boy seemed to be unconscious. Raising an eyebrow, he turned towards Mr White.


“He was drawing attention so I had him silenced. He was distraught over the accident and was ignoring all other attempts to calm down.”


Motioning to the sweepers to bring the boy he grabbed the albino’s arm.


“I want the major brought back here, even if you have to steal him from the mortuary. Don’t fail me again or your payment may arrive posthumous.”


Lyle and the albino stared each other down, each warning the other silently of what they are capable of. The tension rose, becoming unbearable till one of the sweepers cleared his throat. Turning from the albino, Lyle walked away, leading the sweepers who carried the boy into the Centre.


**********


The Centre


"Why did he send the angel?"


Sydney asked, taking a chair and sitting close to Jarod where he still could see what the pretender was drawing.


"Sydney, have you ever played Cluedo? I discovered it last year. To win you need to know who committed the deed, what instrument was used and where it was done. I know he has Miss Parker. This," placing the angel on the table next to the drawing," is where. And I believe that Angelo's reaction might just be enough to help me figure ‘where’ out."


"Why did he send an angel without a face?"


"To show me that he can change her views; maybe even change her completely. He is busy moulding her into his image. Sydney, Miss Parker is strong but I get the feeling that we don't have a lot of time left. I don’t think he knows about Angelo yet but he is a genius and has the uncanny ability of knowing what is going on at the Centre."


With one last stroke, Sydney watched as the pretender turned the finished product to his view. It was a roman sundial, a shadow stretching towards ten. Sydney felt a little guilty. It had been so easy to fall back into routine, to prompt and await the pretender's responses. Turning the picture to face Jarod again, he pushed the guilt into a corner hoping that soon he would be able to purge it from its current residence.


"Jarod, who has Miss Parker?"


Sydney saw the tension etched into his prodigy's face.


Jarod didn't want to say the name out loud. That would make this nightmare seem more real, more bizarre than it already was. His nightmares of their previous meeting still haunted him when he closed his eyes to sleep. Words that collided, forming their own storm centres inside his mind, winds of taunts buffeting his sanity. Truth was turning subjective to what he knew of him and his family and he wondered how much of what was uttered was to do precisely that. Gradually, he let calm to sooth the wandering winds, allowing some respite.


Facing his mentor he allowed the name to flow from his lips, hoping that the taint of it wouldn't stain his lips.


"His name is Alex."


**********


VA Medical Centre


Harry went to check on the old man he had brought in earlier. Beside him, the only other person that survived was the other big guy that had sat on the other side. He was in surgery to repair a torn spleen and muscle-tear to the abdomen.


Entering the recovery room he was glad to see that the man was more lucid and seemed to be conscious of what was going on around him. Grabbing the chart, he checked his vitals before moving to the side of the bed.


“I’m glad you’re here, man. You had me worried.”


Smiling, he watched as the patient turned towards him. Dr Ross had asked him earlier about this one. It seemed that there was a lot more bruises present that the patient could have picked up in the accident. To the doctor it had looked like he had been beaten more than once over the course of the past few days.


Seating himself gently on the side of the bed, he took the old man’s arm in his hand, checking his pulse. Although fast it was strong. Letting go, he kindly asked, “Can you tell me your name?”


Concern etched into his features when the old man shook his head. To him it didn’t look like the guy had lost his memory. It seemed more like the guy didn’t want to identify himself and he once again wondered about the circumstances that this man had been in. Dr Ross had phoned the local police station because of the abuse that seemed evident. The sergeant on duty had promised to send a detective in the morning to substantiate the doctor's views.


"Its ok if you don't want to say. I have to go and fill in my reports but I'll come back later, if you want."


With the nod of assent he left, hoping that whatever that had scared the old man wouldn't stop him from telling the detective what had happened to him.


**********


The Centre


J felt like his head would explode. The punch that had left him unconscious had also left him with one killer headache. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to face what might have happened to his dad. He didn’t want to face where he was. His eyes flew open in shock when a hard hand connected with his face.


“Hello Gemini.”


He felt his anger rise. Here was the man who was responsible for bringing him back, for separating him from his dad, for everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours.


Though his wrists were still cuffed, he made a fist with both hands and lashed out. The other man stumbled back in surprise and the boy rose, feeding his anger with all the simulations that Rains had him perform on assassinations. He attacked viciously, his bouldered fist connecting with the other's body. He was still drawing his foot back for a kick to the unprotected ribs in front of him when the electric shock of a taser gun flipped him to the ground. He turned on his side, his muscles twitching sporadically. The anger still lingered and he allowed it to fester, hoping that somehow he would find a way out.


**********


VA Medical Centre – 20:00


Harry had returned to John Doe after his shift change. He felt a sort of kinship with the older man. He reminded him of his dad, strong and stubborn. Dragging a chair closer, he handed him a packet of candy he had brought from the vending machine.


The eyes conveyed their thanks, but he still couldn’t get the old man to speak. He started a monologue on the adventures he and his dad had before a heart attack had laid claim to him last year. He had found that sometimes with older patients that had survived something traumatic, that just to hear mundane everyday life stories helped them to unwind and reveal what had happened.


He was just getting to the part where his dad had helped him out of the pond he had fallen in when he noticed a change in the older man. He was staring past him to the corridor. Turning, he noticed a man standing and speaking to Dr Ross. There was something funny about the man and it took him a moment or two to realise that the man was an albino. His attention was drawn back to John when his arm was held in a strong hold.


“Get me out of here.”


Looking back at the albino, he found the other man staring intently at him. He felt a shiver run down his spine. John’s pleading gaze was still on him, another whisper followed, “Please.”


“Ok, just hold on. Walking towards the door, Harry saw Dr Ross and the albino walk towards the nurse’s station. Returning to the major, he quickly helped him put on the dressing gown the hospital provided. Removing the IV drip, he put one arm around the older man’s middle and helped him stand. Together they moved down the corridor as fast as they could.


**********


Undisclosed vicinity


Miss Parker was seated on what she had come to accept as her bed, the pillow cushioned behind her. Her head was leaning tiredly against the softness, her right hand fingering the notebook. She had eaten a tin of baked beans earlier when she had woken from her grief exhausted sleep. Her left hand rose and she took another sip from the bottle.


She had kicked of the slippers; they lay messily next to mattress. It is funny how many things taken for granted are the first things you miss when you're denied it. At this stage she wished she had a blanket to wrap around her. Even if it was old and had holes. That and a good meal with Sydney and yes, even Broots.


Sighing, she put the bottle down next to the bed. Picking up the book, she mentally braced her emotions, steeling them to accept the inevitable. Turning to the first page, she gently traced the letters on the first clipping.


Carpenter found shot at lover's home


She remembered his face, the way his body had felt beneath her hands. His calloused hands that traced her skin. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled that special smile just for her. She remembered the warmth of his embrace and the way it made her feel safe, feel special and loved. And she remembered that day. When her whole world had fallen inward to break into shards that had not stopped hurting. They still cut and penetrated her defences. Even now, three years later.


That reminded her unpleasantly of her present situation. She had no idea how long she had been in this hell-hole. Whether it was day or night outside; was it raining, cloudy or clear. Closing her eyes, she almost hoped to feel the rays of the sun on her face. Opening them again they were greeted by the same glaring light bulb that shone without end. She had put the light out once to get some sleep and had woken in panic when pitch black darkness surrounded her. Since then, she had kept the light bulb shining.


Without provocation, her fingers moved over to the next page, as if reading her mind and knowing her memories was changing, evolving to what stood next to her saddest day. Tracing the letters, they trembled slightly. She didn't want to believe it. If she did, she would go mad. It would mean her one constant will have disappeared. The anchor that had held her steady, kept her sane in the asylum called the Centre. That had provided guidance in dealing with her mother's supposed suicide, her death. That had helped her deal with her grief for Tommy. That had always given her unconditional love and acceptance. The one that knew who she really was. Her eyes travelled over each letter, willing them to fade in her glare. To change into something that pronounced miracles and not death. Ignoring her ice cold gaze, they glared back announcing to all who could understand. They seemed to jump from the page and march in front of her, mocking her weakness. Closing her eyes they shouted with glee to echo in her mind.


Unknown benefactor found shot in park
A man known only as Jarod was identified…


Maybe, just maybe she was the destroyer of love.


**********


Parking lot, VA Medical Centre


Harry helped the major into the front seat of his old Ford sedan. He was worried about the condition of the old man. He was breathing shallow, his features pasty and glistening with sweat. Closing the creaking door, he hurried to the other side. Getting in, he started the car with a bang. Moving into the slow moving traffic towards the exit, he kept an eye on his rear-view window for any sight of the albino. Breathing a sigh of relief when he finally exited without any shouts of recognition, he turned right into St James' Avenue.


"Don't go home. He probable knows your life history by now," came the tired voice.


Glancing at the major, he was met by clear eyes that kept his attention. Turning into a broken-down garage, he parked the car next to some rusting bins. Turning to face the major he dreaded the answer but asked it anyways.


"How would he know where I live? That information is confidential."


Ignoring the question, Major Charles tried to get in a more comfortable position. Closing his eyes briefly he instead answered with another question.


"Do you have any family at home? If you do, you need to phone them and tell them to go someplace safe only you and they would know about."


Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. His safe world was turning into a nightmare. Distracted by the clank of cooling iron he answered vaguely.


"Ah, no, no one else. Since my father died last year I have been living alone. My work, well, the hours ….you know."


He couldn't believe this was happening. He felt completely out of his comfort zone and he had always thought that because of the kind of work he did he would be able to handle any crisis. Now he felt lost.


"I have a safe-house we can go to. It's not far from here. We can work on a rescue plan from there."


Harry decided to listen to what the old man had to say. At least it gave him a starting point of where to drop him off and leave him if he thought things were getting too much out of hand. Starting the car he followed the directions from the tired Major towards a possible safe place.


**********


The Centre – SL 27, A1


J sat stonily on the edge of the bed, his hands cuffed painfully behind his back. He watched Lyle dab his lip again, scowling when his hands still came back with blood. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he held it to his lip. J knew that Lyle will make him pay for the blows that he had managed to land. He was slowly retreating to the safe place he had created whenever Raines had punished him for not performing to his specifications. Keeping his eyes locked on the blue ones of Lyle he was grateful when a phone interrupted their silent battle. He watched the chairman's son turn away from him, exiting the room before answering his phone.


"This better be good."


Gripping the phone tightly, Lyle dropped the bloodied handkerchief into his pocket.


"I lost the major. He escaped with the help from one of the locals. We've been to his residence and they are not there. We are trying to determine whether the Major has a place somewhere close by."


"Be careful, Mr White. Failure to find the major will lead to the termination of our contract. You have twenty four hours. If I don’t hear from you within that time period I will assume our contract to be null and void. Understand?"


Silence greeted him before the phone disconnected. Throwing his phone against the wall, Lyle felt his anger rise. Everything was working so well and now this. His timetable will now have to be extended another day. Looking through the one way mirror, he watched the boy shift on the bed. Motioning to Sam, he gave instructions regarding the treatment of the clone. He wanted to stay and watch but he had other priorities that required his immediate attention. He watched Sam close the door behind him before he reluctantly turned and left.


**********


Simlab – 22:00


Sydney watched with concern as Jarod's head jerked up again. Since his revelation they had been sitting here with Broots trying to find possible locations where Alex could be keeping Parker captive. Jarod was sitting slightly left of Broots, who was typing in commands that he gave. Another tech Sydney didn’t know, sat opposite following the path ways and making sure the pretender was not sub programming commands for a possible escape. Jarod was falling asleep, his exhausted body still recovering from the ordeal that Lyle had put him through.


"Jarod, I think that's enough for today."


Bleary, bloodshot eyes looked at Sydney. The pretender shook his head and pointed to another flaw in his directions before pounding his fist in frustration on the arm rest.


"No, you need to declare that before widening the search pattern."


"S…sorry." Broots stammered as his fingers flew over the keyboard, trying to correct the basic mistake he had made. He wiped his eyes; the screen seemed to waver for a second or two before it settled back into normality.


To Sydney it seemed that Jarod moved slightly forward, as if to take over from the tiring tech. A warning word from Willie made him glance at the dark man before focusing on the screen again. Another frustrated sentence followed, while Broots tried to keep up with the pretender's directions.


"Jarod, please. You'll only make yourself sick. You need rest, sleep. How do you think you'll help Parker if you can't function properly because you ignored your body's messages?"


Jarod still stared at the screen, trying to follow the code. They seemed to dance in his mind and he only barely heard what his mentor said.


"No, I'll be fine. We need to find Miss Parker and…"


"and Willie will take you to your room."


Jarod led out a growl of frustration and he tried to push Willie's hand from his brakes he had set when he parked the wheelchair. When the dark man effortlessly pushed him forward to cuff his hands, he surrendered in defeat. His angry gaze met Lyle's.


"I am close, please. Sydney, don't let him do this. You can't …"


Sydney turned to Lyle, interrupting Jarod's pleading with a statement of his own.


"What do you plan on doing with him?"


Lyle put his best innocent face forward; a slight smile in his voice.


"Nothing." Seeing the unbelieving look on the psychiatrist's face he continued, "Really, Sydney. You said so yourself, wonder boy here needs his rest if he is to perform optimally. That is what you want, isn't it?"


Sydney didn't trust Lyle especially when he had that supposed innocent look. Stepping to the pretender's side, he put his left hand on Jarod's shoulder, his right asking for the key to the cuffs. Willie glanced at Lyle before the dark man closed his hand around the key and slipped it into his pocket.


"Lyle, I won't allow you to take Jarod. I'm supposed to look after his needs."


"Well, Sydney. It seems that Jarod was ignoring your directives and his own needs. That is grounds enough for me to intercede for Jarod's best interest."


Sydney gave a short laugh, his hand resting calmly on the pretender. His answer came in a dangerous tone, his stance determined.


"You never had anyone's best interest at heart but yourself, Lyle. Please don't insult my intelligence with your supposed concern over Jarod's wellbeing. I will not let you take him."


The wheezing voice of Raines interrupted Lyle's angry retort he was about to start.


"…Enough…"


Both turned towards the Chairman, both assuming firm stances, both laying claim for Jarod's soul.


"Sydney, Lyle will…take…Jarod…to get…some rest. We will…discuss…this…in my…office."


Sydney held his tongue when the sweeper that had entered with Raines silently came and stood at his right shoulder. Giving the pretender a squeeze of empathy, he silently said good night before allowing the sweeper to guide him after the disappearing ghoul, leaving Jarod in the hands of Lyle.


**********


The Centre


Jarod was slightly surprised when Willie pushed him into his cell. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, he leaned forward in the hope that Willie would take them of. Instead the dark man grabbed one bicep and dragged him onto his bed. He could here Lyle’s clothes rustling as his captor took something from a pocket. His view was blocked by Willie and he tried to twist his body to see what his captor had in store for him. With a command from Lyle, he was pushed onto his stomach, the dark man’s body pushing down on his, keeping him still while he gripped the elastic of his pants. Jarod felt panic engulf him as he struggled beneath the weight of the other. With his view clear he could see what Lyle had in his hands.


“No, please. Lyle, no.”


He felt his pants pushed down, leaving him naked and vulnerable.


“You need your rest, Jarod. This will ensure you’re cooperation.”


“Please, I promise I’ll sleep.” Jarod watched anxiously as the blond man stepped closed. Slowly, aware of Jarod’s eyes on him, he uncapped the syringe. Jarod bucked, trying to dislodge Willie from him, his heart rate increasing, his breathing audible and frightened.


“Please. I…please, no”


Jarod felt Willie shift, pushing him further into the mattress, making sure the pretender was under control. He watched the spurt as Lyle released the air bubbles, his smile evil.


“Nooooo!”


Jarod pushed his face into the bedding, his screams of frustration and anger muffled by the sheets as the sharp point of the needle punctured his skin. He felt the coolness as the liquid entered his gluteus muscle. He swore he could feel it burning upwards; enveloping his body till every part seemed to be on fire. He felt Willie get off, pulling his pants back up. Tears of frustration filled his eyes, his hands forming fists, his arm muscles rippling as he tried to free them. All he managed was to open the cuts he got this morning and create new deeper grooves, the blood smearing his wrists red. He felt his bed dip as another body seated himself on it. Turning his head sideways away from him, he faced the wall, counting the stains to try and get some calmness to settle over him. He flinched when Lyle’s hand slowly began a soothing backrub before manipulating his shoulders in a firm massage.


“Just let the medication do its work. There’s nothing you can do to change it, Jarod.”


Jarod could feel the sedative relaxing his muscles. He tried to deny its effect but he could feel his eyes closing. Forcing them open, he wanted nothing more than to…


Lyle watched with satisfaction as the pretenders eyes closed, his breathing slower and deep. Pulling Jarod’s hair from his face he made a note to get Sam to cut the pretender’s hair. Getting up, he waited as Willie released the bindings from Jarod’s wrists. The dark man turned the prodigy to a more comfortable position on his back, making sure there was nothing that would smother the drugged man. They left him to a dreamless drug induced sleep.


**********


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Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Wow! Thanks for all the great reviews. It made me work even harder on this chapter. Hope you like it.

Confrontations

Safe house

The house was nestled in between towering hardwood trees, creating a sense of privacy and comfort. The driving lane was mottled dark and grey where the half-moon shone through the leaves. Here and there leaves rustled, whispering in answer to the gentle breeze that danced among them.

Coasting along the lane, the lights of the car settled on the log cabin before gliding to a stop in front of the white washed garage door. Harry gave a glance at the dozing Major, not wanting to interrupt his much needed sleep. Looking around him, he opened his door, stood and stretched. The stillness was the first thing he noticed. No blaring of horns, no shouts of anger or indignation, no loud music. Silently closing the door, he went around the car towards the dark house. Taking the four stone steps in two, his feet sounded hollow when he stepped onto the wooden porch. Everything was neat and in order. Staring around him in the dim moonlight he could just make out the pot plants that stood to the left of him. Counting blindly, he felt the rough edges of the terracotta holders. The second one from the steps held his prize. His fingers closed around the house key, the metal cool to the touch.

Opening the screen door, he inserted the key and turned the lock. The click sounded loud in the stillness, it made him cringe wanting nothing more than to walk away. Entering, his hand touched the switch, bathing the living room with a sudden brightness that made him squint. Teary-eyed he surveyed the room. To his right two couches faced the fireplace, a rug lying in front of them with a small table set between them. The kitchen was set in the back, a serving counter built into the wall. Two doors led to darkened rooms that were probably bedrooms and bathrooms. Stairs in front of him led to a loft with the door closed. Walking towards a built-in closet next to the stairs, he was relieved when the opening door revealed blankets, pillows and bed sheets. Grabbing a pillow and blanket, he put it down on the one end of the couch. With nothing more to be learned from the current surroundings he left to wake the Major.

**********


Safe house


It was really hard to open his eyes. The thought of where his sons were currently being held, forced him to wake. His body was sore, black and blue marking his skin where he had slammed against the seatbelt, other random bruising the ones he had received from the sweepers. He was incredibly nauseous and he guessed that it was from the concussion the doctor had diagnosed. Swallowing the bile that was rising, he allowed the paramedic to help him from the car. The world took a spin and if not for the stabilising hand of the black man, he would have fallen. His nausea increased even more, if that was possible; and he held himself still while he waited for it to settle. Nodding his head from a concerned question, they slowly made their way towards his hiding place.


**********


The Centre – SL 27


The room was small, no bigger than a walk-in closet. Speakers were bolted to the wall, making surround sound seem like a cheap compromise to the purity of sound that could be achieved. A three-way projector threw images against the white walls, completing the experience to one of ecstasy; that is if you were to view your favourite movie.


J sat at the desk that stood in the middle of the room, the door facing the back of the chair in which he was currently seated. Sounds of violence emanated from the speakers, deafening his already overloaded senses. The walls radiated malice, greed, and death. It showed the full extent of humanity's degradation; numbing him even further. He tried to lean forward, to rest his weary head on the table. The straps across his chest brought him up short of his goal. A desperate scream made him jump, his eyes taking in the scene he never wanted to see. Retreating even further into his mind, he erected defences and walls; fortifying his already bruised psyche. He wasn’t aware of the whispered litany that left his lips; or of the shutting down of his already abused body. Sweat started to stream down his face, his cuffed hands trembling, creating a slow but increasing beat against the wood of the armrests. His eyes turned inward, his lips blue; accentuating the paleness of his skin as the straps across his body kept his convulsions in check. His last coherent thought before darkness took him into blessed silence was whether he would ever know if his dad survived the crash.


**********


The Centre – Sydney's office


Sydney could only remember one other time when he had been so angry. Opening the filing door he extracted a small bottle of bourbon he had kept for occasions like these. Grabbing his coffee mug he poured himself a good measure before downing it.


"There have been… questions regarding… your fitness… as Jarod's… mentor."


Keeping hold of both his mug and the bottle, he moved towards his desk, the conversation still brooding in his mind.


"You're… getting too personally… involved… Sydney."


Seated by the desk, he watched the swirl of the bourbon against the white enamel of his mug, trying do decide how drunk he wanted to get.


"I question your… commitment to the… Pretender Project. "


Taking another mouthful, he allowed the alcohol to burn a path down his throat.


"If need be, I will… have you removed. Will that… be necessary?"


Sydney could still feel Raines' beady eyes boring into his, his tone triumphant when he gave the ultimatum. Dance to the Centre's strings or leave Jarod in Lyle and Raines' hands. Despite everything he had allowed and had done in his life he would never be able to live with the knowledge that he had left Jarod in their hands. Raines had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to stay away from the Centre tomorrow. He will be allowed to see Jarod again on Tuesday morning. Just one day, he thought, what could happen to Jarod in one day. Tiredly he leaned into his seat, gulping the last of the remaining liquid left in his mug.


**********


The Centre – Monitor room


"Shit!"


Sam took another look at the still figure in the room. His fingers flipped two switches, closing the circuits that entered the room. Picking up the phone he dialled the infirmary, requesting immediate assistance. He rushed towards the room, slamming the door open. He expertly loosened the straps, releasing the cuffs and dragging the body into the hall. He could see the medics rush in towards them and he stepped away from the boy to give them room to work. He watched as they jerked his shirt open, hooking him to the heart monitor, the screen flat lining. With nothing more to do but watch as the medics fought for the boy's life, he turned towards one of the sweepers, instructing him to stay with the boy at all times. With that done he left to let Lyle know what had happened.


**********


Monday morning 1st – The Centre – 6:00


Jarod pushed breakfast away, dropping his heavy head onto his bend elbow. The sedative still coursed through his veins, not enough to push him back to unconsciousness but still sufficient to keep him drowsy and compliant. His hair was cut short in the same style he had had for ten years; despite all the protests he had put up. His wrists hurt and had been bandaged, here and there red patches had leaked through from the deep cuts he had managed to give himself last night. Hearing the familiar footsteps of his nemesis, he pushed upward, his bleary eyes trying to focus on the blond man.


"Eat, Jarod. You need the nutrition to perform optimally."


Dragging the plate reluctantly closer, he tried to swallow a spoonful of the green slob. He wanted nothing more than to force-feed Lyle his breakfast and made a note to keep it in mind when he escaped.


Swallowing another mouthful, he dropped the spoon on the plate.


"Jarod."


"No, I had enough."


Jarod braced his body for the punishment he expected from Lyle. When Lyle didn't move, he relaxed slightly.


"Where's Sydney."


"It's time for you to start work. Broots should be here shortly to help with the search for Parker."


Jarod could feel his heart settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He remembered last night and the circumstances under which Sydney had left.


"I want to see Sydney."


He didn't like the smug smile that formed on his captor's face, even less, when Lyle answered him.


"Sydney is irrelevant to the current phase of your assignment. But,” increasing his smile, he tilted his head slightly, raising his eyebrows in a questing manner, “I always wondered; if you had to choose between Parker and Sydney who it would be.”


**********


Undisclosed vicinity


Alex dropped the postman’s hat on the table, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips. The package had been delivered; the idiots are no closer to his location than they were yesterday. Breaking the seal of the water bottle, he took a swig before turning to the screens. Adjusting one of the dials, he zoomed in on the sleeping form of Parker. He wondered why she had never seen through Daddy’s deception, why she had tried so hard to please someone that was obviously manipulating those feelings towards his own selfish means.


“Soon,” he promised silently.


**********


Sydney's house – 7:00


The incessant ringing in his ears finally registered as the phone. He turned, folding his pillow over his head in the hope that whoever it was would give up. Ten minutes later Sydney gave in.


"This is Sydney."


The pained voice of Major Charles brought him to full alertness, forgetting momentarily the drinking of the previous night. Rising out of bed he grabbed his head when the full brunt of his indiscretion left him reeling, forcing him back down on the bed.


"Sydney, are you listening?"


"Just give me a minute." Opening his bedside drawer, he grabbed two painkillers, swirling them down with water. Taking a deep breath he picked up the phone.


"I'm here."


"We need to talk. Can you meet me?”


“When?”


“Two hours from now on the Macy farm road by the bend. Do you know where it is?”


“Yes,” giving his watch a glance, “I’ll meet you there.”


Terminating the call, he felt relief flow into him. At last he had help in organizing Jarod’s escape.


**********


The Centre – Renewal Wing


J looked around him. Finally he was safe. The fortress rose steadily in the air. Something funny about it though. He had never seen the clouds swirl and speed across the atmosphere like that before. Smiling, he focused on the walls again. They were steel grey, each block carefully placed on the other till it formed an impregnable barrier. The walls were topped of with rolls of barbed wire, the hooks glinting dangerously; warning anyone coming to close that death awaited them. Something was tugging at his body but he ignored it. No one will hurt him here. This was safe.


"We managed to resuscitate the boy but I'm afraid it is a bit difficult at this stage to determine the damage to the brain. He's in a coma and seems very determined to stay there."


"I need the boy able to work, doctor. I do hope you understand my predicament. I want you to use all means, but get him awake. You have twelve hours."


Leaving the incredulous doctor behind, Lyle stepped out of the room. He had not thought that the boy would have such a bad reaction and he needed to keep that in mind for later.


**********


Macy farm road – 9:00


It was a warm summer’s morning, the day only just starting its promise. A dust cloud indicated Sydney’s arrival, it slowly settled till the air was clear again. Taking another look through the binoculars, the Major made sure that no one had followed the psychiatrist. Getting up slowly, he waved to Harry. Scanning the sky again, he made sure that there was no distant spec that could be a Centre helicopter. Finally satisfied, he carefully made his way down the hill towards the waiting car.


**********


The Centre – Simlab


Jarod only half-heartedly focused on what Broots were doing. He had found the most likely location where Alex held Miss Parker an hour ago. Now he wanted to think without any distractions or too much interruption. Directing the tech on another useless search pattern, he tried to concentrate on means of getting out of the Centre. He needed to disable the cameras and he needed help with that. He needed a brace to help support his leg and he needed help with that. He probably would be able to make a makeshift one that would hold him till he got out but that still left the woods and road to traverse. The one he had used for the sim would work better. The one conclusion he could make unequivocally was that he needed help if he was going to escape.


**********


Macy farm road


“Major, what happened? Are you alright?” Sydney asked with concern when he saw the state that Jarod’s dad was in.


“Lyle’s ‘Sniffer Dog’ thought I would give up the location of J if he used my body as a punch bag for his sweepers. Unfortunately he still managed to capture J.”


"J's back at the Centre? I'm so sorry, I had no idea." Looking into the Major's eyes, he could see that Jarod's father knew that Jarod was back too.


"How is Jarod? Have you seen him?"


Sydney could hear the worry in the Major's voice.


"Jarod's hurt, but otherwise fine. Lyle had put in a hospital for the past month before bringing him in about a week ago. His leg had been broken quite severely. I do not know if he will ever be able to walk without a limb."


"J's hurt too. The last time I saw him he had sunburn, some marks and scratches and limping quite badly."


Grabbing a map from his car, Sydney spread out the blue print of the Centre on the bonnet.


"I had started an escape plan for Jarod. We will have to amend it to include the boy. I'll get Broots to help us with the more technical aspects like the cameras…


The sun steadily rose while the three men continued to amend and discard plans to get Jarod and the boy out of the Centre.


**********


The Centre – Simlab – 10:00


Lyle entered the Simlab, a brown envelope in his hands. Dropping it on the table, he directed his attention to where the prodigy sat with the tech. He was aware that he had Jarod's attention and he liked that.


"This came for you. You don't have a lot of time so I suggest you open it," looking at his watch, "now."


Wheeling over to the table, Jarod gave a suspicious look to Lyle. Taking the envelope he wondered what was going on when a phone dropped from the brown packet.


Crouching besides Parker, Alex traced the softness of her skin. A smile tucked at his lips when he entered the number in the phone. Satisfaction creased through when he heard the click and the tentative answer. His right hand held the phone to his ear, his left still lingering on one spot.


"Did you know that she has a beauty spot just between her third and fourth ribs on her left side?"


"Alex," he growled, his grip increasing on the phone.


"How did you figure that one out? Maybe you are as good as they say?"


"What do you want?"


Alex chuckled, his hand moving lightly over her skin. This is going to be fun.


"Why assume I want anything. You know…, Lyle is right. She really is beautiful when she's angry."


Jarod closed his eyes, breathing deep. Alex was playing with him, trying to make him lose focus. Concentrating, he managed only slightly to bring his emotions under control.


"Why Miss Parker? Everyone assumed you were dead. Why not disappear?"


"This…makes life more worth living, don't you think." Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, he traced her features, enjoying the feel of power.


"You should have seen her reaction when she read the article of your death. It was heartbreaking. I really think she has feelings for you."


"You …."


"A…ah. No swearing, Jarod. If I don't like this conversation, she dies."


Breathing deep, his left hand pounding in frustration on the armrest, he focused on his voice,


"I'm sorry. You have me at a slight disadvantage. Why the phone call?"


"From one pretender to another, did you enjoy being her?"


Jarod ignored the question. It was irrelevant, Alex was only baiting him. He already knew what he went through.


"Have you ever thought what the Centre would do to you if they found you again?"


Very good, Alex thought. But you're still as ignorant as always regarding you're own worth. Tucking the phone against his shoulder, he finished dressing Parker. He decided to answer Jarod's question with one of his own,


"How's the leg? I hear batting practice started a month ago. "


"I'll survive. As always. Tell me, Alex," Jarod looked directly at Lyle, "did you do all this by yourself or did you have help."


Taking the red notebook, he threw it into the bucket with all the other cleaning equipment. He was slightly irritated by Jarod's question but decided it was not worth it to correct him on it. There was other ways of having fun.


"I hear Lyle has something special planned tonight for just the two of you."


Jarod felt cold fingers running down his spine. Alex might just be lying, but knowing Lyle he didn't doubt that the statement could be true. He really did need to get out of here.


Throwing a blanket over the sleeping figure, he relished in the fear he could feel from Jarod. Bending down, he gave her a goodnight kiss on her forehead. He could imagine the pretender's discomfort. With one last lingering touch, he rose and continued,


"Have you ever considered how long a person can go without any human contact? Miss Parker has had no contact with any one for nine days. What do you think would be the implications if she was kept isolated from anyone for a month? No human contact to keep her sane, no Jarod to help her cope with Daddy's little secrets, no Sydney to lean on for a father figure." Holding his breath, Alex waited. Jarod's answer was as predictable as if he read if from a script.


"I'll find her."


Laughing silently, his voice was filled with amusement,


"Oh, of that I have no doubt. The question is, will you be in time to save Miss Parker's soul?"


Closing the cell phone, Alex felt pleased. Jarod was slowly succumbing to the stress. He could hear it in the pretender's voice and he doubted that he could sim the tremor. He opened the cupboard and inserted his last item. This should be the final straw that would break Parker into a million pieces.


Putting the phone into Lyle's outstretched hand, Jarod turned his chair around and started to wheel from the lab. Willie stepped into his path and he tried to wheel around the black man. His head dropped slightly when Lyle applied his brake before pulling him back against the chair.


"Where do you think you're off to?"


"I need to think. I need to have some time alone."


Jarod felt Lyle's glove on his neck, the grip increasing slightly while the chairman's son laughed.


"Jarod, you need to really learn to understand this. You have no rights. You do as you're told when you're told. "


Jarod tried to ignore Lyle, the taunts and the grip. All he experienced was Miss Parker's turmoil. Alex's question had left him open and he couldn't help but to feel her anguish. Shaking his head, he leaned forward in the hope that he could shake the grip.


"I need to see Sydney. Now."


A gasp left him when Lyle angrily pulled him back by the short hairs on the back of his head, forcing him to look into his captor's eyes, his head angled over the chair.


"You're mine, Jarod. Sydney will be removed permanently if you act up again. You will see him when I deem it appropriate. Not before. Am I clear?"


Jarod knew there was no choice. He had to let Lyle think he had the overhand. Hoping that he would get to see Sydney soon, he acceded. He allowed the Chairman's son to wheel him back towards the table. Pushing his anger and resentment down, he started to answer Lyle's questions regarding the phone call.


'Just hold on, Parker, please. I'm coming,' he silently promised having no idea how he was going to get out of this mess.


**********


Undisclosed vicinity – 11:00


It's gone. The notebook is gone.


Ignoring the blanket, ignoring the new clothes she searched frantically for the one thing that showed her at least some part of the real world. Whoever it was that changed her clothes, kept her room in check had removed the one item she wanted to keep.


She needed to think, to rationalise what she felt and why. Moving back to the bed she seated herself on it. Picking up the blanket, she revelled in the feel of its softness. Pulling it like a shroud around her, she burrowed into the bed, facing the wall. She knew that something new would be waiting behind the door. She didn't want to see it. Only hurt and pain came from there. She could almost feel the evil vibrating the door, trying to force it open. Whimpering slightly, she wanted nothing more than to let go and give in. But she knew, Jarod would never allow her. Despite what she read, he would come and rescue her. He was still alive, still breathing. Tommy's face was being replaced by Jarod's and there was nothing she wanted to do to prevent that. It scared her, meaning she was opening herself to more hurt, more pain when all this turned out to be one big hoax. She imagined she heard the door rattle again, wanting to be opened, needing to witness her destruction. Trying to bury even further away from the menace behind her she felt the heat from it burn her back.


'Jarod, I need you.' She silently cried, clenching the blanket tighter against her body. She needed him to save her from the demons behind the door. To be her holy warrior and fight against the horde bombarding her from all sides. She was so tired. She didn't want to pretend anymore. Willing her body to relax she fell asleep while thinking how Jarod's hands felt when they held her own in the car for that brief moment before she drew hers away.


**********


Safe house – 12:00


Major Charles was seated on one of the couches, papers surrounding him as he poured over the plans they had started this morning. Harry was in the kitchen organising lunch for the two of them. Major Charles was really grateful for the chance to have a say in the rescue of his sons.


Sydney had promised to find out what he could concerning J and where in the Centre he was being held. Between the three of them and Broots they should be able to pull this off with success. His body still hurt and he had to break every half hour to let his eyes rest and just give his headache some respite.


Leaning against the back, he felt a draft caress his hair. Sitting up, he turned and looked at the now open front door, the sun bright that entered through it. His eyes widened when he finally recognised who stood in the doorway.


**********


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Choices

Safe house

"Margaret?" his voice failed to respond, and he tried again. It has been so long that he hadn't seen her; he didn't quite know how to respond. His legs were refusing to work, and he sat there staring at her like a love struck schoolboy.


"How…"


He still couldn’t find the words to respond. He watched in wonder when his wife took a step towards him, her arms raised, inviting him back to where he belonged. That was the catalyst. His legs grew strong again, his body young and vibrant. He jumped from the couch, crushing his wife to his chest. Tears flowed freely and he held her like he never wanted to let her go. The smell of her hair entered his nostrils, making him giddy. He had forgotten what they had smelled liked and that made him sad. He could not understand the mix of emotions that seemed to change easily within him. Sadness, happiness, life, regret. All those seemed to play around in his mind and heart.


Gently, he pushed her slightly away from him, tracing her eyes, nose and lips with his fingers. Relishing in the feel of them. His thumb pushed the tears to the side, his lips melting onto hers in a kiss so familiar he wondered why he had never gone mad with loneliness before. Finally letting go, he made sure he still had some physical contact with her.


She looked at him with joy and disbelief. Turning, she held onto his hand, pulling him towards the door. He heard a car door slam. He centred himself just in time to catch his daughter as she ran into his arms, hugging him tightly as she laughed out loud. Pulling his wife back into his embrace, he held on tightly to both.


Everything is going to be alright.



**********


The Centre – Renewal Wing


J didn't want to leave. He fought with everything he had but the walls kept crumbling. Shafts of light shone through cracks, creating paths of white that traced back to reality. The tugging was more insistent and couldn’t be ignored anymore. A silent scream escaped from his tortured soul, as his body fused to one of the paths, elongating and stretching the surroundings until he was no longer sure of any dimension, position or direction.


He opened his eyes.


Pain assaulted his senses. His chest felt like a jackhammer had chiselled into it. Looking down, he saw bruises that discoloured his flesh where the heart compressions had left their mark. An IV was connected to his left hand; his wrists encased in soft straps. One or two cuts had been stitched; his feet felt tight and warm. He guessed that it had probably been bandaged. A slight rustle made him aware of a person sitting in the corner to the right of him. The dark suit identified him as a sweeper and J turned slightly away from him. His chest was constricting and he had difficulty breathing. He felt surprise when sweat started to form, his hands forming fists. His body started to tremble, tears flowing silently from his eyes. Everything seemed too close, too tight, too near. He was faintly aware of a doctor coming in; a light shining in his pupils. He was trying to understand what was happening to him but it took too much effort. He was grateful when the faint prick brought him back to peace.


**********


The Centre – Renewal wing


"He did regain consciousness briefly. I am worried about his emotional state. He had a severe panic attack and I had to sedate him."


"I want him able to perform. You have six hours left, doctor. I suggest you get to work."


**********


Sydney's office


Broots knocked lightly on the open door. Entering the dimly lit room, he noticed Sydney sitting behind his desk, the flickering light from a DSA player skirting across his face. Jarod's young voice could be heard faintly and the deeper, accented voice of Sydney answering.


"Uh, Sydney, you wanted to see me."


Sydney reached his hand across, ending his musings, bringing his attention back to the present situation.


"Broots, I need you to find any footage of Jarod's cell of the past two days. I want you to run a loop through it, creating a ten minute copy."


Broots thought he had stepped into the twilight zone. Wondering if this was some sort of test, he looked around the office for any sign of Lyle.


"Broots, did you hear me?"


"Do you have any idea what would h…happen to me if I got caught doing that. L…Lyle's keeping very close guard on the DSA's that you want. I would h…have to break into his o…office a…and…"


"I'm well aware what you have to do, Broots. I'm sure that you will be able to get them undetected. I also need to know where they are keeping Jarod's clone. Apparently Mr White had returned him to the Centre last night."


"Sydney, w…what are you planning on doing? Or wait, I don't think I want to know."


"Something I should have done a long time ago. Broots, I need those DSA's."


Sinking into the chair, Broots tried to make sense of the sudden change in his world. Even without Miss Parker, he still managed to get himself into another compromising and dangerous situation. He'll do this for Miss Parker, he determined; his imagination having no problem with coming up with sentences she would use to urge him into another break-in. He was about to reply to Sydney’s request when the office door opened.


**********


Undisclosed vicinity


His ringing phone distracted him from the image on the screen. Miss Parker was facing away from the cameras, the blanket wrapped around her in a vain attempt to bring some comfort. His smile ended, a scowl replacing it when he saw the number that flashed on the phone’s screen.


“Yes.”


Listing to the voice, his eyes darkened slightly but never left the monitor.


“It won’t be long now. She should be ready in forty-eight hours.”


The voice continued, with him listening attentively until the caller ended the conversation. Leaning forward, he traced the immobile figure on the screen, remembering the touch of his fingertips on her silky skin.


“Soon.”


**********


The Centre - Simlab


Jarod rested his head on his arms; his food pushed to one side. Since his conversation with Alex, he had been grilled by Lyle on any knowledge he might have had on the other pretender. For now he was left alone, Willie sat by the door to ensure he stayed put. He had half a mind to tell Lyle that he knew where Miss Parker was but that would mean that any advantage he had, he would lose. It would mean new projects, new sims and he had some idea what would happen when he denied Lyle those. He was worried about the state that Miss Parker could be in. She had built so many barriers to protect herself that he had no idea what she would do when all of them were broken. He remembered one harrowing sim he had performed when he was a teenager and it scared him to think that Miss Parker might be going through the same process. He tried to push the memory down, but it was unsuccessful as the full force of it inserted itself into his consciousness.


He could feel the loneliness create a void around him. His mind felt overwhelmed with images of people. He tried to remember what it felt like to be able to touch another human being. His voice was hoarse from lack of use. He doubted that he would be able to string a sentence together when they found him, and that frightened him even more. He didn’t want to experience these feelings anymore.


“Jarod, concentrate. We need to know why this particular individual developed severe psychosis and anxiety problems.”


He thought he saw someone move in the corner. He wanted nothing more than to realise another person in the room. Someone to talk to, someone to touch. Focusing again on the corner he almost broke down when the same paint-spattered wall stood immobile with no person evident. Disappointed he decided to focus back on the happier times he had. His mind couldn’t seem to recall any of those supposed times, questions the only thing that inserted itself into those spaces. Why didn’t anyone want him anymore? What did he do wrong? Why did his parents hate him so much? Nobody will miss him if he’s gone. He had sat in the isolation chamber so long that when he finally whispered refuge he had managed to push himself too far. He remembered how startled he was to find people touching him, their words making no sense. He had thought them part of his dream, his hallucinations that had permeated the world he had created.


He remembered Sydney pull him from his spiralling thoughts. That sim had came very close to pushing him towards total rebellion and if he thinks back to it, the Centre had terminated that particular project, not wanting to risk him finding the truth. Now Miss Parker was in the same situation. He knew that Alex won’t just leave her isolated. He would use her own weakness against her, to terrorise her even further towards a nervous breakdown.


He had to get out of the Centre.


**********


Sydney’s office


“Lyle.”


“Sydney is there some crisis I should know about? If I read my memo correctly, you were told explicitly to stay away from the Centre today.”


Broots had no idea where to look or what to do. Lyle’s eyes traced back to him and he wilted under their implications. Looking towards Sydney for support, he felt slightly better when the psychiatrist refused to be intimidated by the younger man.


“I had some paper work I needed to finish. I was only told to stay away from Jarod and that I have complied with. Anything else I can do for you, Lyle.”


Lyle’s eyes narrowed, his right hand pulling on his leather glove.


“You two aren’t up to something, are you?”


Silence greeted the question, with Sydney settling himself behind his desk and Broots staring at the floor.


**********


Safe house – 13:00


All four of them were sitting around the kitchen table. Although Harry was a stranger, Charles did not mind. The man was courteous and fun to be around with and he was grateful for all Harry had done since they eluded Mr White. He couldn't stop staring at Margaret. They were both older, both emotionally hurt by what had happened in their past, but that seemed to fade with each smile they gave, with each gentle touch. Their fingers were intertwined, they had not let go of each other since they met.


He was content to sit and listen to their stories and what they had been doing since the forced split sixteen years ago. Now and again, the atmosphere was tainted by close shaves with Centre sweepers but it could not dampen their thankfulness for being together. He had yet to tell them about Jarod and J and was reluctant to spoil the moment. Finally, with his wife and daughter looking at him in anticipation, he told them about his and J’s capture, his lucky escape with the help from Harry and Jarod’s re-incarceration at the Centre. It felt so good not to carry the burden alone anymore. His tale finished with their plans to break the two boys out of the Centre's grasp. He felt Margaret's gentle hand turn his face, the world shrinking until all he could do was gaze into eyes full of understanding, grace and love. In that perfect moment, he knew that Jarod and J would escape, that their dreams of being a family will finally come true.



**********


Renewal Wing


“Son, I need you to wake up for me, ok.”


The words seemed so familiar, that J frowned. His eyes stayed closed, the feel of a cold compress against his hot forehead bringing back painful memories. Thinking it part of his dream, he murmured.


“Michael?”


“Its ok, son. You are safe here.”


J didn’t believe the voice. Safe did not include sweepers, and cuffs and death. Whimpering, he tried to ignore the insistent voice. The images from the room still assaulted his mind, sometimes so vivid that he could see every detail down to the pulsating darkness of man’s evil soul. It’s not who he is, he promised. It’s not him.


**********


Lyle's office


Broots was once again stuck in Lyle's bathroom. He heard Lyle's chair creak, the footsteps from the other man leading towards the bathroom door. His near panic turned into a sigh of relief when the phone rang. He had no idea how he would explain his presence to Miss Parker's brother; Lyle's last question still ringing in his mind. I have to be crazy to keep doing this to myself, he thought, listening closely when Lyle picked up the phone.


"This is Lyle."


"Good, let the boy rest. I'll be there at four."


Broots heard the click of the phone being returned to its cradle. He was looking around, trying to find a hiding place, the doorknob turning when another call made Lyle swear. Wiping his brow, Broots couldn’t believe his luck. He almost missed the one-sided conversation.


"Lyle."


"We have our agreement, Mr White… No, I don't see a reason to extend the contract."


"Fine, in light of the new information, you have until noon tomorrow."


Broots wondered what contract Lyle had with the albino. That guy freaked him out; he liked him even less than Cox. He heard Lyle's footsteps and was trying to think how to explain his presence when he heard the outer door close. He almost needed the bathroom himself.


**********


Johnny's diner – 14:30


The diner was typical, gaudy and tasteless but adequate for a meeting place between Sydney and Broots, away from any spying eyes of the Centre. They were seated in the last booth, a brown manila envelope lying on the table between them.


"I've found the boy. He has been taken to the infirmary late last night. Mary, one of the nurses – she's quite cute, have this dimple…oh right," Sydney's impatient look drew him back to the facts, "she says that the boy had flat-lined and they nearly lost him."


Sydney sat back, wondering how he was going to explain this to the Major. Their plan was made that more difficult due to Jarod's injury, now they had the boy's mobility to worry about too.


"Will they move him in the next twenty four hours?"


"She doesn't think so."


"Ok, have you managed to create surveillance loops from the DSA's?"


Broots slid a disc over to the older man, "This is a ten minute loop. The guards make a shift change for Jarod at one. The boy is a bit more difficult. They only brought him in yesterday."


"We will have to find a way around that. I'll speak to the Major and see what we can come up with. When are you meeting Jarod again?"


"Oh, that's the funny part. Lyle told me to take the afternoon off."


Sydney didn't want to think what the consequences for Jarod would be in the hands of Lyle with no one to stop the psychopath from dispensing his sense of justice. His worry increased, wondering in what state the pretender will be found tonight. He needed Jarod at least partially mobile if their plan was going to work. After the meeting finished, he made sure Broots had adequately protected himself from any possible suspicion by the Centre when Jarod and J's escape became public. He needed to speak to Harry to find out if the paramedic had access to any stimulants in case he needed to use it on Jarod. After that, all they needed to do was find Parker.


**********


Renewal Wing - 16:00


J finally opened his eyes. Everything was quiet, the chair empty where the sweeper had sat. He heard some movement outside his curtains, and he quickly closed his eyes again. When nothing happened, he reopened his eyes. The straps kept his hands at his sides but they were not that tight. If he could somehow manage to loosen them, he might be able to escape.


That thought terminated when the curtain was opened to reveal Lyle. He tried to close his eyes in order to feign sleep again, but it was too late. Shrinking into the bed, he tried to distance himself from the menacing presence. He remembered all too clearly his punishment for attacking the man in front of him and he didn't want to experience that claustrophobic room so soon again.


"I trust you have learned a little respect, Gemini."


He flinched when Lyle's hand came to rest on his arm. He could feel his breath quicken, his heartbeat heavy with dread. He turned his face away, trying to hide his panic when another image flashed across his mind again. He was not aware of the softly spoken words that left his lips,


"Make it stop."


Lyle's fingers made indentations on his chin, forcing him to face the other. J shivered, a shudder that left him painfully aware that he had no way of protecting himself against what the chairman’s son was planning. His hands were clammy, his muscles tight. He wished his dad was here and that only made him more aware of what the Centre were capable of.


“I have a project I want you to do for me.”


J wanted nothing more than to be back in his safe place. At least there, he had some rest from the visual bombarding of violence that flashed across his memory. He tried to will himself back there, disappointment settling in his stomach when he found himself still staring at the other man. Lyle stepped back, allowing two sweepers to start loosening his straps. J swallowed, his fear palpable but under control. The sweepers pulled him upright, forcing his body to stand between theirs. He held his head upright, trying to keep up with his two guardians.


He blanched when he saw the door that Lyle opened. Struggling, he tried to escape from the bruising grips of the sweepers. He managed to pull one arm partially free from a fist. Twisting and turning, they boy ignored all commands. His movements became more frantic, the closer they came to his concurrent nightmare. A fist to his kidneys left him gasping and limp, allowing the sweepers to pull him inside. The sight of the chair brought renewed fighting, one word following each other as he voiced his fear and agitation. They had to work hard to strap him into the chair.


Panting, he felt blood drip from a cut that had been reopened above his eyebrow. He could feel it trickle down the side of his face, creating a thin trail of wetness that tickled. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry of laugh at the absurdity of it all. He tried to wriggle his fingers, watching in fascination as they swelled. The straps pinched his skin, so tight he knew that it would hurt when they removed it again. He tried to ignore Lyle’s footsteps; he tried to ignore how the room made him feel.


The flashback came so rapid, so vicious that he had no time to protect himself. It drove him further from Lyle's presence, forcing him to close his eyes and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Riding it, he tried to stay ahead of the menacing image, the screams in his head real.


Breathing erratically, he became aware of fingernails that dug cruelly into his chin. Acknowledging, his eyes fluttered before they focused on Lyle again.


“Do you still want to fight your destiny or are you ready to embrace it. I’m sure that we still have some footage left that you have not yet seen.”


J wanted to hurt Lyle. He wanted to pound all his frustration and fear into that smirking face till nothing was left but a bloody mess. He wanted to resist, to be strong like Jarod but the thought of witnessing the destruction of people again made his stomach tighten to the point that he could feel its contents burn upwards. He started to shiver, unable to stop his body’s response to his fear. Lyle started to leave, the speakers humming with anticipation and he couldn’t help it. The traitorous words left his lips, trembling like the coward he thought he was.


“No, please.”


He could feel Lyle’s pleasure at his surrender. He heard the steady footsteps until Lyle entered his vision. He couldn’t raise his eyes; he felt shame burn from his face, and he tried to shrink even further away from the cruel words that vibrated in his head. Lyle’s disfigured hand pulled his face upward till he was forced to make eye contact with the blond man. The question came dangerously, whispering promises if unheard.


“Are we going to have any problems receiving your full cooperation?”


A defeated answer slipped from his lips, burning acidly when they left his tongue, “No, sir.”


J felt Lyle tap his face, the touch as unwelcome as the attention. He heard Lyle’s whispers of scornful praise before the man left, and he hated himself for giving in.


**********


Simlab – 17:00


Jarod was seated at the table, his head bent over a piece of paper. He had spent the afternoon working with another tech until he left about thirty minutes ago. He had made his way to the table, glad for the respite. Continuing with his notes, he actively thought of ways to fool the Centre and get Parker before Alex could carry out his plans. Surreptitiously, he made sure that he couldn’t be seen by the camera and Willie, his right hand slowly bending a sliver of metal into shape. Satisfied, he inserted the small piece inside the bandage that covered his left wrist. His plans were now falling into place and all he needed was a drug free night.


Two sweepers entered the Simlab, walking over to where the pretender was seated. Lyle entered behind them, with a smile on his face and a relaxed stance. Jarod tried to ignore the two burly men that stood next to him, dropping his hands so that they gripped his armrests.


"Jarod, there is something I want to show you."


Lyle tried hard, but he couldn’t keep the mocking triumph out of his voice.


"I'd rather skip it, thanks."


Jarod’s grip tightened, his knuckles white from the pressure of his muscles. He had no idea what Lyle had planned. He thought something like this would happen when Broots hadn't returned for the afternoon session, and he needed to stay fairly uninjured if he wanted to have an adequate chance of escape.


The hands of the sweepers dropped onto his shoulders, heavy and unyielding. He couldn’t see Willie; the dark man had disappeared somewhere behind him and he could hear the rustle of his clothes.


"Oh, I think you will want to see this."


Jarod had no time to react. Willie dropped the black hood over his face, jerking the string closed. His hands came up to jerk it from his face and was stopped by the grips from the sweepers when the wrenched him upwards, away from his seat.


"Lyle, I'll…" was stopped in mid sentence becoming a grunt of pain, when his arms were pulled behind and upward. The cold steel of cuffs clinked around his wrists, creating a numbing pain to the bruises and cuts. They pushed him forward, his leg shooting darts of pain every time he was forced to put pressure on it. He tried to hop on one foot but that was unsuccessful, the pace too fast for him to keep up. He couldn't see, only aware of the grips of the sweepers and Lyle's footsteps in front of him.


Jarod heard a door open, Lyle's footsteps coming to a halt on the other side. He knew what was coming but still couldn’t prevent the violent shove that sent him careering over the threshold. His injured leg folded under him, his shoulder contacting hard against the floor. The black cloth twisted with the fall, pulling tight against his face. Lifting his head released the tightness a bit, allowing the gathering panic in his chest to dissipate. He lay still, trying to get his breathing under control. He heard movement in front of him. Tensing, he waited, shifting slightly when the movement stopped. .


Slowly, he moved into a seating position. He tried to listen where Lyle was. Pins and needles were shooting painfully up his arms; he could feel the blood from one of the deeper cuts seeping through the bandage that covered his wrist. His left leg was trembling uncontrollably. He straightened his leg to bring some relieve, the spasms only slightly abating. Lyle's smooth question came from somewhere in front of him, a question he had not expected.


"I think you have been holding out on us, Jarod. How long have you known the location of Parker?"


Taking a deep breath, he answered with a pretender's guile, "I don't know what you're talking about. Don't you think if I knew I would have told you?" He projected confusion in his voice, and made his body language communicate uncertainty and fear.


"Come now, Jarod. We both know you're a lot smarter than that. Between you and me, how long did it take you before you had Parker in your sights?"


Shaking his head, Jarod sensed someone else in the room. The person was behind him, trying to be quiet. He heard a footstep, and blinked rapidly when the hood was removed. Lyle was leaning against the wall, relaxed; his smile evil. He was studying him, waiting for a reaction that Jarod had no desire to give. Refusing to answer the previous question, he took in his surroundings. It was a normal Centre Simlab, albeit smaller than usual but no different. The two sweepers stood by the door and he did not plan on obliging Lyle to use them. He could still feel the presence behind him and was loathe turning away from Lyle. His curiosity won out and he shifted sideways, one eye on the blond man and sweepers.


Jarod had no idea what he had wanted to try and do. He was cuffed and lame and still he tried to get to Lyle. He started to rise; only to have his leg gave way. He dropped onto his right knee, his other leg folded next to it. He ignored the renewed pain that flooded his senses, trying to come to terms with Lyle's change in tactics. Settling into a seated position again he looked over to the boy that was seated to the left of him. He had straps across his body, legs and arms that held him immobile. The reason there was no sound was because J had been gagged; he could see the checkered pattern of the filthy rag sticking from behind the dark cloth that kept it in J's mouth. Jarod could trace the path that silent tears had made - between and over a mirage of cuts that ranged from recent to day old ones - down the boy's face, increasing his hatred for Lyle even more. He was dressed only in Centre-issued cargo-pants; his chest a mosaic of fading bruises. The boy's feet were encased in dirty, unravelling bandages. One ear had been nicked by a bullet, the missing part forever a reminder. All those he could somehow accept, what he couldn't was the dullness and defeat that the boy's eyes proclaimed. Whatever had been done, it must have been horrendous to let J – who had survived fourteen years under Raines – look like a shell-shock survivor of the Blitz.


Jarod turned his attention back to the smiling man against the wall. His eyes glared his hatred and distaste for the man in front of him. He now had some idea what Lyle had planned and he had to push down on the frustration that was beginning to surface. He watched as the blond man pushed from the wall, walking past him towards the boy. Lyle's left hand emerged from his pocket, holding a knife. Keeping his gaze, Lyle slowly opened the serrated seven-inch blade. Jarod started to rise in anger, the warning look from Lyle forcing him to resettle on the floor. He tried to reassure J, hoping to divert the boy’s attention from the weapon in Lyle’s hand.


"Jarod, you haven't answered my previous question."


Lyle pushed the knife against the boy's skin enough to break the skin, holding it there, waiting for the pretender. The boy's muscles flexed under his resting hand, the only sound breaking the stillness the harsh breathing from J. He started a shallow cut, relishing in the silent squirming of his victim till Jarod's voice stopped his hand.


"This morning! I've known since this morning. Lyle, please…you have me. Let him go."


Lyle ignored Jarod's plea, his hand steady, feeling the beat of Gemini's heart. Making sure he had the pretender's full attention he continued,


"Where?"


Jarod had to think fast. This is not how he had planned his evening. If Lyle had the boy, where was his father? More importantly, how did Alex know about this or was his hinting a bluff, knowing that Lyle would probably find some way to torment him? The visible injuries on the boy increased his anxiousness. He knew his dad would never give up without a fight, what if that meant he had given his life. He had to work something out with Lyle, find out some more information about the whereabouts of his father, and allow some leeway in the search for Parker.


Lyle’s hand sliced another inch across J’s exposed chest, his gaze never leaving the pretender.


“Lyle, wait.” Swallowing, Jarod continued, “I only have a general idea. I need to be there to find the place. If you sent your sweepers, they will only manage to get her killed. Alex will see them long before they’ll have any idea where she is.”


Jarod sighed in relief when the blond man stepped away from the boy. He could see the thin line etched into J’s pectoral muscle, blood slowly congealing on the cut.


Lyle sank to his haunches in front of Jarod; the knife making small circles on the material of his captive’s left leg.


“Why should I trust you to bring her back and not escape in the process?”


Lyle waited for Jarod, patient now that he knew he had his attention. He wanted Jarod to acknowledge that he was in control. He wanted the pretender to weight his options and find that he only had one course to take.


J shivered involuntarily, his mouth dry from the gag that had been forced in. The cut burned but was nothing compared to what he had been through the past two days. He ran the simulations and like Jarod, he knew the outcome of each action. He followed the play of words between the two men, knowing that Lyle had the upper hand. He was the prize, the tool that would ensure Jarod’s cooperation and final subjugation. And he could see that Jarod knew that.


Jarod watched Lyle rise, a demonic smile on the blond man's face. They had come to an agreement. Jarod will show him where Parker was, the boy’s life dependent on his cooperation. If he escaped or attempted escape while outside the Centre, the boy will die. Slowly.


**********

Reviews, as always, most welcome. ;-)

Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Thanks for all the great reviews; it keeps my fingers typing…

Rescue

Undisclosed vicinity


She was dreaming and she was aware that she was dreaming. Her dreams were becoming her reality, the only way to keep her thoughts closed to the hidden camera she had spotted in the ceiling. In her dreams her mother came, sometimes to give advice, sometimes to just hold her.


She would also imagine his hands holding her; she would imagine another outcome to that time at Ocee’s. She would dream of coming closer, the distance between her and Jarod shrinking until she touched his lips in a kiss so chaste it reminded her of her innocence and their shared kiss in the lab. Her dream would then stray to their moment in the Centre’s limo, his hands reaching towards her pleading for a turning point. But this time she would hold on to his, and not slip them out of his grasp.


Her actions would be different each time she dreamt, but the ending always turned out to be the same. The dream would evolve into a nightmare that always returned to the same recycled words. She kept turning away from him, telling him that he needed to forget her moment of weakness and pulling her hands from his grip. Digging deeper into her buried memories, she would know that this is a dream; that in reality Jarod would always be her constant, her compass. She wanted to hold on to that elusive glimmer of hope, to take the courage to love again. However, the doors always slammed shut around her heart with the key disappearing into the distance and a hand closing around it. She would follow the key to the hand, her eyes moving past the wrist, to the elbow towards the shoulder and neck. Following the throbbing main artery, ever upwards, she could see the face of the one who held the key. And this was to be the true realisation of her nightmare. The face that looked back at her was none other then her own.


But this is a dream and in dreams, reality is your own fears realised.



**********


The Centre


J was staring at his hands. Turning them left, and then right, he took in his the blue crisscross of arteries, his fingernails jagged and broken, his palms grazed. His gaze re-centred on the bars that held him in place and the unblinking eye of the camera. Slowly, aware that every move was recorded, he pulled the blanket around his shoulders, his face turning away from the intrusive black iris. Fully hidden underneath the coarse material, he allowed the sobs to come.


**********


Thirty miles outside Blue Cove


Jarod sat between Lyle and Willie. Leaning his head back, he allowed the turn of the wheels to drift him towards sleep. He was emotionally tired; the added stress of J’s capture and the uncertainty regarding his father’s fate taking its toll. He had asked Lyle about his father and had only received a sinister smile, increasing the feeling of dread, his brain working overtime on possible reasons for the smile. His escape plans now discarded, he had yet to see a way out for both him and J. At least Miss Parker would be rescued, though why Lyle wanted to be one to do it was a mystery.


His hands were cuffed in front, his clothes changed to black jeans, T-shirt and brown jacket. They had given him a brace for his leg; it sat tight around his lower leg, bringing some relief from the pain. There was nothing more to do than wait until they entered Maryland. His head drifted sideways, his cheek resting against the back seat of the car, his breathing deepening before a deep slumber finally took its hold.


**********


Safe House – 21: 00


He watched from a distance as the lights went out in the top room. His focus moved down towards the left window, the curtains partially drawn but enough for him to see the room’s interior. Seated on one of the couches was the daughter with paper strewn around her. The paramedic entered his sight, talking to the girl before moving off again. A small smile settled when Major Charles and his wife moved in view, seating themselves in the other couch. The Major stretched forward, his hand coming back into view - the Glock 17 firmly held in it. Reassured by checking the clip and chambering the first round, he holstered the gun. His wife said something, to which the Major replied. Giving her a small kiss, he stood. Checking his watch, the other two rose from their seats.


He watched them move from his sight. The front door opened, light spilling outward onto the porch. He saw the tearful goodbye before the Major and paramedic moved off. The car drove past his position, his smile widening ever so slightly at the thought of the two women left behind, alone.


**********


The Centre – Monitor room


Broots entered the room, checking its occupants before proceeding. His eyes traced across the multitude of screens to the one that displayed Jarod’s cell. Sydney had asked him to make sure that Jarod was there before he went home.


“Oh, no.”

The cell was empty, no occupant noticeable. Walking closer, he noticed one of the techs he knew.


“James, uh, where is the guy who’s supposed to be here.” His finger pointing to the guilty monitor.


“Oh, Mr Lyle has transfer papers for him. He will be back by tomorrow.”


“Um, ok. Thanks.”


Turning, Broots walked out the room, hoping he would be in time to phone Sydney with this new piece of information. Just outside the door, he collided with someone. Not really noticing whom, he tried to step around the person, his thoughts flooded with the implications if Sydney tried a rescue attempt without Jarod present.

It was only when he heard the wheezing that he finally took note of the person he had collided with.


“Going somewhere…Mr Broots?”


“M…Mr Raines, I…I didn’t…I…uh, I mean….yes.” Stammering, he tried to get out from under the scrutiny of the bald man. He tried to scuttle around the other man, without appearing guilty, and not really succeeding when he felt Raines’s clammy hand on his arm. Looking into the watery eyes of the half-dead man, he shivered.


“What were…you…doing…in the ….monitor room?”


“N…nothing, I…just wanted…James…” breathing deep, he started again, his thoughts as jumbled as his words. “I saw a g…glitch in o…one of the search p…patterns Jarod…had me programme, I, uh…wanted to s…see where he….” fading, his words came to a halt. His heart sank when Gar took his arm, pulling him past Raines.


“I…think we …should have…a talk…about your…future, don’t you…Mr Broots?”


Nodding, Broots gave one last look at the hallway, towards where Sydney’s office was one floor up. Allowing Gar to lead him, he followed the squeak of his perceived doom.


**********


Safe house – 21:30


Margaret put the last of the dishes away. She never before had such a positive belief that she could finally see her family get back together again. Soon she would see Jarod again. She knew about J and it angered her to think what the Centre was capable of in its incessant greed for power and money. That they would create another human being for no other reason than to exploit his abilities. She promised herself that J would come to understand a mother’s love, that he would be safe in her arms.


Walking towards one of the backrooms they have decided to set up for J, she joined her daughter.


“Is everything set up, the bandages and medical supplies?”


Her daughter smiled, rolling her eyes before acknowledging a question she must have asked three times already. If not for Emily, they would not have come here. After Emily had met up with her in Washington, they had decided that they needed some rest from the Centre and their search. Her daughter remembered this place and they came here, not expecting to meet her husband. That moment when she saw him still lingered in her mind. He looked so much like the young man she had fallen in love with, the same love-struck look on his face. A small smile played on her face, her eyes twinkling as she remembered the kiss.


A knock on the door ended the thought. No one else was supposed to know about this place. Motioning to her daughter, they dosed the room light, although it was too late. Whoever it was would have seen the light. Silently, they waited. A second knock came, more insistent. All the years of running had honed her instincts and something about this situation did not sit right. Quietly, she grabbed her daughter. They crept to the back window. Drawing the curtains back, an involuntarily scream left her. The white visage of a face looked back at her, grinning. Running, they sped from the room. Looking around her, she tried to think were to go as the tinkle of glass being broken reached her ears. The front door was vibrating as whoever it was, kicked at it. She grabbed the fire stoke, her grip tight around the shaft. She waited as Emily pulled a pan from one of the fasteners in the kitchen. Having made her decision, she pulled the backdoor open, Emily swinging. The gong as the pan connected sounded loud in the silence, vibrating around the clearing in front of the back door. Not stopping, they ran into the woods, the sounds of shouts and pursuit coming behind them.


**********


Safe house – 21:40


For the third time in a couple of days, he lost his temper. The man that was supposed to have guarded the back door was trying to rise to a sitting position. The other two men he had brought with standing next to him. They had lost the women in the initial hunt, a more detailed search needed now. Calmly, he took out his gun. Without any hint, he pointed it at the struggling man and pulled the trigger. He only received slight satisfaction from killing the incompetent man, his eyes searching the surrounding area. With one last look at the body, his eyes travelled to the other two, their eyes cold and portraying no remorse over the death of their teammate.


“Find them.”


**********


Undisclosed vicinity


The nightmare had been so real; she could still smell the gunpowder in the air. The blanket was tangled around her body, increasing her feeling of claustrophobia, her thrashing not helping. Tears flowed down her cheeks, her hands fighting the suffocating hold of the blanket before she became fully aware of her surroundings. Sinking into the softness of the pillow, she wiped at the wetness on her face. She had managed to twist the blanket around and in between her legs and the chain, turning her body so that she faced the cupboard. Memories assaulted her body again, the bullet-ridden body of Tommy smiling at her. Shuddering, she firmly pushed it back. She stubbornly ignored the hole of hell, not wanting any other reminders of her past or possible future. Pulling at the warm cloth, she finally escaped from its embrace. It was only then that she registered that the door was open. She was drawn to the inside, her hands shaking.


Shaking her head in denial, she looked in on darkness. Something chipped away on her defences, gaping holes starting to appear. She couldn’t focus, her hands falling over her ears. Falling on her knees, she curled tight, her forehead touching the ground as if in worship.


Whispers entered her mind, swirling inside. The sound hissed and spat untruths that wanted to be heard. She couldn’t concentrate, could do nothing under the barrage. They came from everywhere, her soul immersed in the vortex. She tried to fight it, to stand firm. Phantoms laughed in her face, taunting her weakness. Ghosts of the past reared up, adding their voices to the clamour. Too late she realised what was happening and why. Tattered, bruised, and mortally wounded, she took her stand and fought for her sanity.


**********


Undisclosed vicinity


He smiled and then laughed. Parker had finally succumbed, although admittedly he had to help her a little by opening the cupboard to force her to look in on her destiny. Turning from the screen, his step was light as he walked from the room and away from the silent, cowering figure.


**********


Safe house – 22:00


The snap of a branch swung her head to the side. Breathing shallow, she waited. The shadows changed, the dark blue morphing to the black moving shape of the stalker. Her hand slipped slightly on the fire stoke. Increasing her grip, she waited. They had no choice. They couldn’t leave the area; she had no way of letting her husband know what happened. They had left everything back at the house.


She eyed the distance, waiting. The step that took the man closer, also brought with it a swinging arm full of determination and a mother’s fight for her family. He never knew what hit him, his body crashing into the undergrowth, deadly still.


‘One down, two to go.’


**********


The Centre – 23:10


Broots had no idea where his luck came from, but he had a fair idea just to thank her for his share. He might have been in a meeting for two hours, but all Mr Raines wanted was to tell him how appreciative the Centre was of his skills and that a raise might be in order. He hurried, nearly running in his haste to get to a secure phone. He needed to speak to Sydney and tell him about Jarod.


**********


Route 425 – 23:30


The surrounding area was sheaved in darkness, the moon not enough to bring light. The two-lane secondary road was quiet, the stillness rudely broken by the twin lights slicing across the road. A bend in the road finally allowed the occupants to see their destination. An old, broken-down church waited in front of them. The roof was gone, one wall broken in half. The windows gaped open over the unkempt grounds, gravestones chipped and long forgotten.


The interior was silent, all of them taking in the surroundings, the headlights creating surreal shadows that crept from the broken crevices in the walls down towards the full grown weeds, discarded equipment and dusty ground. A command from Lyle and the driver cut the lights. Nothing moved, no night sounds from birds to lighten the mood, no wind rustling the leaves in playful banter.


“Lyle, I need my hands.” Holding them for the blond man, Jarod waited for the arguments from Lyle. He was slightly surprised when Lyle took out the key and unlocked the cuffs, but considering Lyle’s earlier threats and the boy waiting back at the Centre he knew there was nowhere for him to run.


Jarod followed Willie as they stepped from the car. The brace helped a lot and he managed to make his way into the churchyard without any help. Turning on the spot, he took a more careful look of the surroundings till he finally found what he was looking for. Just in front of where the main entry used to be, was the sundial. It was set in the centre of the path leading to the arch of the main doors. He approached the edifice reluctantly, aware of Lyle’s eyes on him. A nest of spiders had settled there, the face covered in the silk strands of their web. Peering closely, he could just make out the faded carvings on the blue-grey stone, the middle stand long since broken and discarded. He looked back at the car with Lyle leaning against it. Taking a deep breath, he followed his dream he had the previous day, walking to where the numerical ten pointed.


The old storm shelter was only that in name, the wood rotten and the door hanging on one hinge. Entering the darkness, he stopped when a command from Willie was whispered harshly. The flashlight nearly blinded him, killing his night vision. Grabbing the one the dark man offered, he inspected the stairs in front of him. They were worn down from countless feet that must have traversed them. The church had used this as a storing place for their garden tools at one stage, the remnants of some of the tools still lying around. The room was stifling, the air coming from the broken door mixing with the mustiness of disuse. His flashlight created a pool of light from which things rustled and escaped as he swept it around the room. His sharp gaze finally settled on what he needed. To the back, tucked away in the corner was an old shovel, the handle broken three quarters up. Even in its state, it didn’t seem to fit in with the rest. Stepping closer, he removed the tool, taking note of the wall. The boards were tucked in too tight, too new to be part of the rest of the room. His fingers followed the boards, the roughened wood digging splinters into the tips. The latch was cleverly disguised, made to look like a darker age spot that marred the plank. Pushing, he heard the click, the whole section swinging inward on oiled hinges. Taking one last look around him, they descended into the darkness that had opened before them.


**********


Turn-off just south of the Centre


The lights dimmed, the car crawling to a standstill. The driver door opened, feet crunching on gravel. A loud whisper followed, the person squinting into the darkness. It was answered, the rustle of leaves being parted followed by a pair of feet quietly pressing on gravel before doors silently opened and shut with barely a whisper. Turning, the engine started. The rescue mission was underway.


**********


Undisclosed vicinity

This is a dream. And in this dream, darkness ruled. She called in her broken defences, cradling them close her breast, her heart pumping away her lifeblood. The sky was black; there were no stars to bring light. She was seated against an old, dead, acorn tree. The bark was rough against her tender skin, the stark branches reaching for the sky, empty of any green. The grass cut into her feet, their stalks brown and dead. She could barely see the black shadows of the land around her. A lone tear slipped down her cheek, her only emotion to the death around her. Another excruciating stab of pain from her wound made her gasp, bending her body in half; her hands holding tight to the tendril of life that seemed to be slipping like a golden thread of light from between her fingers. She continued her hold, tightening her fingers even more on the elusive thread.


He followed the slightly slanted shaft, down into the depths of Hades. His feet shuffling, the limp noticeable. Now and again, he looked behind him, where Willie was following to make sure he didn’t disappear. As if he could, seeing that no openings or turnoffs greeted their small circles of light that their flashlights created. It ended abruptly, his light greeted by a closed wall. To the left of him was a ladder, stashed neatly against the wall. Small slivers of light escaped between the square blocks of steel set into floor in front of him. Looking at Willie, he silently asked the dark man to help him. One kick was all it took.


This is a dream. And in dreams, there has to be hope. Fighting, she stubbornly held on, her fingers dripping with blood.


The clatter of the grate sounded loud to Jarod. Pulling at the ladder, he lowered it into the room.


A stairway to heaven opened. The darkness parted before her - a thin sliver of light descending. She almost believed it could be true, the light no more than a pinstripe.


Swinging his body over the gap, he took the steps carefully, descending slowly. He was halfway down when he took a quick look around him. The room wasn’t that big, about the size of his cell back at the Centre. Through the steps of the ladder, his gaze settled on the toilet. Tucked into a corner on the same side was a box full of tins and water bottles. The other side held bedding. A small open cupboard door met his gaze, the angle preventing him from seeing the inside. What made him start down faster was the body that lay close to the bed.


She looked in wonder as an angel appeared, somehow looking familiar. Her wound ached; ignoring it, she continued to follow the angel’s decent.


Jarod wanted to cry. Parker was curled in a protective position; her eyes open but not seeing. From her left ankle snaked a chain, set securely into the wall by the bed. He could see the inflamed skin poking from behind the cold steel. Her hands were bandaged, the reason behind that not something he wanted to speculate on. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he approached her in the same manner you would a frightened deer.


You’re not real. This is my nightmare… You’re not real; you’re only my dream…


Kneeling painfully, he reached for her. Gingerly, his fingers brushed her hair from her face.


This is a dre…


Softly, his voice full of compassion and love, he uttered her name, “Parker.”


The angel’s voice sounded so full of compassion, it relieved the ache in her heart. It hurt less and she wondered if this is what happens when you die…And then she wondered, if this is a dream…can I die?


Carefully he sat down beside her body, aware of the time constraint.


The angel knelt by her side, his closeness bringing comfort. She wanted to let go, a sob escaping before she drew her broken defences close again.


Jarod did the only thing he could. Gently, incredibly soft, he started to sing the nursery rhyme that had always drawn him back from his brink of the precipice of insanity.


His voice sang a song so beautiful she never wanted to forget it. Tilting her head, she closed her eyes to listen. The words started to heal, closing the gaping death wound that had punctured her heart. She wanted to float on their love, but then she remembered, this is only…


She responded, shifting a little closer to his body. Her eyes still staring inward, but there was hope. Aware of Willie waiting above, his hand slowly started a comforting rub on her back, continuing the song.


Somehow, this was different. She tried to ignore the hidden messages; enjoying the touch…she frowned. Is this a dream? Looking around her, the sky was changing; dark, roiling clouds making way for pastel colours of sunrise. The hurricane turning into an invigorating breeze, bringing with it strength. The grass, dead and dying under her feet, sprouting green shoots of life. Her sight returned, and with it, the hope she had been searching for.


“Jarod?”


Looking into the murky eyes, he quietly nodded. Pulling her into his arms, he held her fast, her head over his beating heart. Her arms forming a protective barrier between them before she slowly unfolded them. They encircled his body tentatively, her heartbeat and his beating in unison. Holding her like that for a minute, his throat constricting. He could feel a wetness starting to creep into his shirt, Miss Parker silently crying into his chest. Ignoring the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, he finally allowed the present to bring them back to their danger.


“Parker, I’m sorry, but we have to leave. It’s not safe.”


She didn’t want to let go. He was the thread that stopped her fabric of reality from unravelling completely. Holding tight, she slowed the tears, nodding slightly into his chest. She lessened her hold on him only slightly, aware of every move he made through the thin T-shirt he had on. He stretched past her, pulling her legs closer. She could feel him work on the shackle, the slight scraping from the tool he used sounding harsh in the stillness. The click vibrated around the room, her left leg suddenly free of the heavy constraint it had been stuck with since she had been here. She felt his muscles tense, a gasp escaping his body. She knew that her leg wouldn’t be pretty, she had been aware of the scabbing and inflammation that the friction of the chain had left on her skin. She was suddenly, irrationally afraid that Jarod would be so disgusted that he would leave her here. She increased her grip, her face burrowing into his chest; not wanting to look into his face and see his revulsion. She felt his fingers light on the area, tracing the pain. She heard his murmurs as he apologised for what had been done to her. Again, he gently told her that they had to leave. She really wished for that to be true.


He muscles stretched underneath her hold, and she felt Jarod pull the slippers tenderly onto her feet. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, her legs weak but holding. When he tried to loosen her hands a little, she nearly panicked. He was going to leave her here; maybe this was just part of her continuing nightmare. Shaking her head, she whimpered into his shirt. His tender voice finally registered. Changing her grip so that she tuck underneath his arm, she allowed him to steer her towards the ladder. Her heart clenched in pain, not wanting to loose her one real thread when she had to let go of him in order to climb. He seemed to realise what she wanted for he kept close to her, climbing behind her, touching her occasionally to let her know he was there.


Reaching the darkness, she nearly lost her grip in fright when a hand pulled her through. Squinting, she waited as Jarod was helped through. She tried to think, tried to imagine why Willie was here, but her thoughts scattered again, her only thought again to hold on to Jarod. Grabbing his hand, she followed his directions, happy that she didn’t need to make decisions, not caring why Jarod had a brace around his leg or where he was leading her too.


This might be part of a dream, but in this dream, she was free.


**********


Happy to hear your thoughts, might just lead to an influx of Muse.

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

Thanks for all the great reviews; it keeps my fingers typing…

Turning point

The Centre vineyard – 23:45


The plan was now being set into motion. Sydney, the Major and Harry was patiently waiting for the hour to announce the start. The windows were slightly open, the warm night air bringing little relief to the tension in the car. Once again, he went through the plan in his mind, trying to find a flaw, anything that could spell disaster.


The buzz of the phone on his belt made him jump. He was in mind to ignore it, to let it ring until the caller decided to give up, but another thought crept in with it. What if it was the Centre? If Raines or Lyle were trying to contact him, wouldn’t it be better to answer and deflect any suspicions that they might have. Looking at the Major’s worried face, his hand closed on the vibrating phone.


The voice on the other side was excited, whispering loud enough for the other two men to hear. Sydney never even had a chance to answer.


“Sydney, they….uh…Lyle took Jarod….um….he’s not here….Sydney….you have to listen…Sydney?”


“I’m here Broots. Slow down and start from the beginning.”


His unease grew as Broots unfolded the night’s events more fully. The boy was missing, no one had any idea where, Jarod taken from the Centre by Lyle for some unknown reason. Sydney could only guess that Lyle had somehow managed to ensure that the Pretender took him directly to Miss Parker although the reason why Lyle wanted to rescue her eluded him. He remembered all too well the psychopath’s blasé reference to the search for Miss Parker when he had come to his office to inform him of Jarod’s capture. This had to be a power play for Lyle, a very good reason for him to be part of the rescue.


Closing the phone, he faced the anxious father, his heart in his throat when he forced the words he didn’t want to say.


“We have to call it off. I’m sorry but there are complications that we didn’t foresee.”


He could see anger start to mar the face of the man in front of him, well aware of the anticipation that had built up just to change into disappointment. Slowly he began to explain the situation.


It was ten minutes before the Major reluctantly agreed to wait another day. Another ten before Sydney finally started the car, reluctantly driving off. The interior filled with disappointment and tension as each man wrestled with thoughts of what another day might do to the two Pretenders.


**********


Undisclosed vicinity


Jarod followed Willie, the lighter square of darkness in front of them increasing in size. Miss Parker was holding on tight to his right hand, her feet making soft, sloshing sounds next to his shuffling feet. His limp had increased to a very noticeable favouring to one side, trying to keep most pressure off the ever-increasing ache that shot lava-cooled lumps of burning pain from his ankle up towards his trembling thigh. His face had a drawn look, the lines around his lips and eyes filled with the fatigue and pain he was trying to keep at manageable levels. Wearily he allowed his feet to draw him closer and closer to the doorway. The doorway that led to a waiting Lyle and the Centre, and he was under no illusion as to the way Lyle would use J to get him to perform like their trained monkey once again. He was worried for Miss Parker, she needed help and not the kind that he was sure Raines would give. In her current state, she was very vulnerable. The observations he made while being in the room was enough for him to know that Alex knew what he was doing and he had nearly succeeded in breaking her completely. Her stubbornness had held the insanity at bay and the fact that he arrived when he did, helped her to pull out of the defensive comatose.


He waited while Willie stepped through the doorway. Bending, he led Miss Parker through the doorway into the storm shelter, the dark man’s flashlight helping to light the way. Miss Parker had just stepped into the room when Jarod watched in disbelief as Willie crumbled before his eyes, folding downwards into a boneless heap. His flashlight fell with him, the light dancing wildly before finally half-mooning to a standstill, slashing a path towards their feet. Jarod pulled Parker behind him, his stance protective. He could just make out the darker shape of another man, but what made him stand still was the glint of blue metal that was held in an outstretched hand. He felt Parker move slightly behind him, her hands grabbing hold of his shirt. He could feel her trembling, her breaths coming in fast gasps. Turning he whispered to her, his voice calm, “It’s ok.”


He turned his attention back on the darkened shape in front of him. He started to lift the flashlight in his right hand; the faint shake of the gun stopped him. Dropping his hand to his side again, swallowing the fear that started from a pit somewhere in the centre of his stomach. He opened his mouth to question, to say anything that could get them out of this situation, when another shake of the gun closed the query before it slipped out.


They stood there in silence, the wait so long that he could see the dust motes starting their dance on the pathways of light. The creak from a falling branch outside startled him, breaking the stillness with a loud crack. That seemed to be what the body in front of him had waited for. The gun dropped slightly to his hand holding the flashlight. It took a more aggressive gesture before Jarod understood and switched off the light. He slowly moved towards the steps, the gun waving silent instructions. Following, Jarod kept Miss Parker behind him. He limped painfully up the stairs, the stars greeting them brightly, unaware of the drama unfolding beneath them.


Jarod could barely see the car from where they stood besides the broken-down shelter. He thought of making a noise, any noise thinking that an enemy known was better than the silent unknown in front of them. Miss Parker kept hold of shirt, he could feel her trembling and it worried him, wondering what had been done to change her personality so profound.


The gun waved again. Turning, he could faintly make out a trail between the trees. During the time they had been inside, a wind had sprung up, the branches creaking in an ancient song while the unseen air moved between the towering trees. He pulled Miss Parker underneath his arm, glancing back occasionally as they made their way on the faint white gravel. It felt surreal, unimaginable. He simmed scenarios, possible escapes but he had no idea what Miss Parker would do. He was sure that she would follow his lead, but he doubted that she had the physical strength for a run through the woods; but to be honest neither did he. So he kept limping, Miss Parker at his side with the darkened menace of the gun-wielding hand following sinisterly behind them.


**********


Safe house – 24:00


Margaret crouched in the heavy underbrush just south of the house. The pistol she had taken from the man felt heavy in her right hand. Her left came up slowly, indicating to her daughter to move five steps left of her current position. She waited, ignoring the sweat that was starting to drip down her face. The faintest whisper of a twig being tread on alerted her to the man that was sneaking up on Emily. She could just make out his form as he froze, waiting to see whether he had been discovered. She still did not move, her own breath held in hope. Apparently satisfied, he continued his movement forward. She barely registered the white of his eyes that was focused on her daughter's back. He stepped past her position, oblivious of her presence. His hand rose, and with it hers. Both silent and intent on their task. She used all the strength when she brought the butt of the gun down on the hapless man's head. She watched the body crumble, her hand aching from the shock that had sprung through the gun’s frame. She gave a small smile to Emily, to show her that she was fine. One thought settled in her mind.


'Two down, one to go.”


**********


Undisclosed vicinity – 24:10


Lyle once again looked at his watch. Impatiently he wondered whether Jarod had decided to make his escape. He could think of no other reason why he had not seen Willie with Jarod and Parker in tow. Swearing, he opened his phone. The number he dialled went unanswered. Thinking of ways to make Jarod pay for the delay, he motioned to the driver to follow him.


The light was diffused, the glow almost imperceptible but enough to guide him to the storm shelter. His gun was out, leading the way inside. He finally made out the darker, unconscious shape of Willie, an expletive leaving his lips. Stepping forward, he knelt next to the dark man. He cruelly slapped at Willie’s face until the other moaned, his head turning sideways. Standing, he watched the dark man lift a hand to his head, coming back dripping wet. His voice was deceptively calm, the cold dripping ice on each syllable.


“Where are they?”


Confused brown eyes looked at him, Willie still waking to the realisation of what had happened to him. Lyle’s anger increased, just barely contained in its cage. Willie must have seen the look, grunting a hoarse answer in staccato.


“There was someone else. Miss Parker and Jarod had just stepped through when he must have hit me from behind.”


Lyle let go of another more colourful expletive. Following the stairs back out, he made a full turn, the creaking trees staring back at him. Grabbing the flashlight from the driver, he took a good look at his feet. The footprints were there, the imprint from Jarod’s shoe distinctive. The hours he had spent outdoors now came handy; he could clearly see the third set of footprints that meant that there was only one attacker.


Good.


The driver followed as he started tracking his prey, the adrenaline surging comfortably through his veins. No one had the right to take his property and get away with it.


**********


Safe house – 24:15


'She's good. No wonder the Centre had difficulty in tracking her.'


He had found Karl, unconscious from a heavy blow to the head. He doubted whether Karl would ever wake up. Leaving the man behind him, he followed the tracks as best he could. He nearly stumbled over the second body. Dropping to his haunches, he felt for a pulse. A faint beat touched his fingertips. Gordon was out for the count and from what he could determine, will be for the rest of the night. A small smile settled on his face.


Finally, in all the years he had spent in his profession he once again had a worthy advisory. They were so few and they were always far in-between. Jarod was the only one who had come close to capture him. If not for the fact that he had that file on Emily to bargain with, he would certainly have been caught. Jarod was so predictable in his efforts to protect and find his family that he would do almost anything to ascertain those goals. That is a weakness that Lyle would definitely exploit, the boy alone was enough to enforce cooperation. With the added bonus of knowing his father was in the clutches of the Centre, it would guarantee Jarod’s willingness to do anything in order to protect him from further harm. He knew, even with Lyle's threats if he failed to find Major Charles, that apprehending this family would become his prime achievement. When he had handed them over to the Centre, he would retire. He had thought about this, and he did not think anyone else would ever be able to present him with the same challenge than this family did.


Breathing slowly, he stepped over the body. He knew that the woman would be somewhere close by; they wouldn't go too far from the house. What they did not know was that he had one more surprise addition to his team. He was waiting by the road, making sure that no one escaped down that way to intercept the Major and the paramedic when they returned. He wanted to have the woman under his control in the house by the time they came back. He had two hours more, he reckoned, before their return.


**********


Undisclosed vicinity


The house slowly came into view. The clearing was small, barely big enough to be called that. The house was barely that, a little more than four log walls with a closed door and window facing them. The aggressive shake of the muzzle forced them on, continuing the silent walk towards the house.


The door they entered creaked ominously, increasing the haunted feel of the clearing and its sole occupant. They heard the door answer in closure, the final click as the lock was engaged increasing the feeling of dread that had settled in Jarod’s heart. He pulled Parker closer, no idea how he could protect her. He could feel the increased beat of her panic, her face pressed into his side. The cold wetness of her silent tears increased his grip around her, pulling her even closer into the enclosure of his arms. The moans from the wind creeping through holes in the walls created a mockery of ghostly life in the complete darkness that surrounded them. He couldn’t see where the gunman was, and that increased his fear for Parker’s safety even more.


The scrap of sulphur against phosphor startled both of them. The flame showed bright, the light expanding to the hand that held it. Slowly, the flame was brought higher, throwing chilling shadows across the face of the man who held the burning fire.


“Alex.”


His whispered growl chained the wind, creating a void that incorporated the grinning sociopath and them, cutting of all reality of the world around them. Boxing them in, he watched as the flame burned ever lower. Just before the end would come with burned fingers, the flame was sheaved into a storm lantern, given life again.


“You know, Jarod, life is precious or so society proclaims. Personally, I find the manipulation of life so much more rewarding.”


Jarod suppressed his anger, his arm protective, keeping the brunette close to him while he tried to think why Alex had him brought here. He waited, aware of the silent gunman that hovered behind them.


“Take Miss Parker for example.”


Jarod took a step forward, his angry denial just starting when the click of the safety being released stopped him. His defiant gaze settled on Alex, glaring daggers on the unconcerned man.


“The well-known Ice Queen that hid beneath daddy’s lies in the hope that he would show her some affection, maybe even the illusion of fatherly love.”


Jarod could feel the tensing of Parker’s muscles beneath his arms. Her tears had dried, she was listening and he wondered how he could spare her from what Alex was saying. He wanted to shatter the words, to prevent them from surrounding Miss Parker but he could no more stop them then he could stop the sun from shining.


“You should have seen her when she saw daddy’s head. I must say that it was one of my best artwork yet and she believed it to be real. That grief she showed was definitely not earned but she gave it willingly.”


Miss Parker gasped, her mind conjuring the face again in the macabre setting of the cupboard. Her defences still weak, barely recovered from the last emotional torture, she felt them crumble again. The only strength that kept her from collapsing completely was the sound of Jarod’s heart close to her ear, his arm tight around her. Jarod’s deep voice filled his chest, she could hear them boom from inside, momentarily drowning the sound of his heart.


“What do you want?”


Smiling, the sociopath leaned into the chair he sat in.


“I told you before, Jarod. You never listen, ignoring all the obvious facts that screamed at you from right under your own nose. I will say this again, for your sake. Why assume that I want anything…from you.”


Jarod closed his eyes for a brief moment. He could feel the weight of the forgotten flashlight in his right hand, an escape plan starting to take form.


“If not me, from whom then?”


“You’re the genius, figure it out. Why should I make it any easier for you?” Alex chuckled, genuinely amused by Jarod’s question.


“Somebody’s giving orders and its not you. Who is it?”


“Why, I’m hurt Jarod." Pouting, Alex's cold eyes settled on his. A sinister smile played on his features, his one hand pushing the box of matches next to the lamp.


"After all, I’m a pretender too, or have you forgotten. You keep coming back to the question that I’m not alone…that there is some big powerful overseer behind me handing out orders. Sorry to disappoint you but all this is my doing." He paused, his hand tapping the box, making a small hallow sound. Turning his head, his gaze narrowed on the pretender standing before him. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he gave another low chuckle. His next statement sent slivers of cold ice running down Jarod's back.


"But, as in all true characterisations, I needed a henchman and that is what Mark back there fulfils. I personally cut out his tongue. A nice touch, don’t you think?”


Jarod saw the slight twitch in the corner of Alex’s mouth. Enough for him to confirm that his suspicions are true. He remembered the last time they had met, the final words before Alex had slipped and fell.


“Somehow, I don’t believe you. This takes more skill and subtlety that you could ever hope to achieve.”


Jarod shifted slightly, his stance readying, waiting for the outburst from Alex. And he was not disappointed.


**********


Safe house – 24:30


They had no idea where the third man was. She had caught a quick glimpse of him when they had double backed, enough for her to know that he was dangerous. Following her mom's directions, she crept slowly forward, aware of the night sounds around her. Her right hand held the gun they took of the second man that had stalked them, the grip unfamiliar but not uncomfortably so. The sound of crickets suddenly stilled, froze her in place. It was somewhere to the right of where she crouched. She cursed the silence, her gut tightening with each passing second. She nearly let out a sigh of relief when they singsong started again. Her gaze met those of her mother’s, as they slowly started moving forward again. Another command from her mom, and she moved two steps further, widening the gap between them. She tried to swallow; her mouth was dry with tension. Eyes darting, she stopped briefly to allow her tense leg muscles just to relax for a second.


The first indication she had that someone was behind her was when a hand snaked around her head, covering her mouth and nose. She started to retaliate, her left leg kicking backwards, hard. It only met air, the person twisting away from the kick. Her elbow rose and before she could do anything else, was pinned to her side. His arm pulled her tight against his body; she could feel his sinewy muscles ripple against her back. The hand that kept her close pushed the hard muzzle of a gun against the tender flesh on the underside of her chin. A harsh, whispered command followed. She opened her hand, dropping the gun she had held. Her body bucked in response to the air that failed to flow past the grip he had on her face. Darkness started to edge into her consciousness when she felt his hand slowly release her. Gratefully, gulping in air she tried to shift in his hold. His veiled threats stopped her, whispers of promises that would come true if she tried anything. She tried to see where her mom was, her eyes shifting towards her left. Nothing. She started to open her mouth when the gun pushed hard into her flesh, breaking the skin. A grunt left her; she could feel the blood pushing a path down her throat.


“Margaret, it’s over. Your daughter’s life is in your hands. I want you to step forward, hands raised.”


She could hear the gravely voice, her hand steady that held the gun. She knew that to live, she needed to kill the person who held her daughter. The grunt of pain from her daughter clenched her insides into knots. She was so close to having her family back together again and she would fight with everything she had in order for it to happen. She needed time to think, to work her way around behind them. She started towards her right, aware of where her daughter’s breathing increased in pain.


“You have five seconds, then say goodbye to another child.”


“No, don’t hurt her.”


She tried to stall, the answer allowing her to move another few feet around them. The sound of a gun going off, striking flesh stopped her in her tracks. No, please. Oh God, let her be all right. She heard her daughter’s cry of pain, nearly breaking her heart in half.


“The next one will kill, Margaret. Do you want another child’s death on your conscience? …Margaret?”



“I…I'm coming out.”


She took another few steps. She could hear Emily’s quiet sobs, the impatient breathing of the man that held her. She threw the gun into the general area, then stepping into view with her arms raised. She could just make out the figure of the man, Emily tight against his body. Her left arm hang uselessly next to her side, the blood dripping dark against her white skin.


“You just saved her life. Now I want you to turn around and kneel. Keep your fingers interlocked behind you're head. Try anything, and you'll watch Emily die. Am I clear?"


Emily watched her mother nod stiffly, her gaze trying to explain her actions. She took a pain filled breath, her arm throbbing. She could feel the blood drip from her fingertips, big, dark drops that swelled and fell as gravity pulled them down. The gun was still tucked underneath her chin, a dark bruise already forming around the small circle of broken skin where the barrel had pushed in. She nearly let out a whimper of grief when she watched her mother turn and kneel on the ground. Whispering threats, the man behind her released her, pushing her towards her mother. His hand on her shoulder, he forced her to kneel. She could hear his hand rustle in his clothes before the familiar clink of cuffs filled the air. She started to turn her head, a harsh warning pulling it forward again. She was waiting for the cold steel to snap around her wrist when a gunshot rang out. Her first thought was that he had shot her mother, her eyes frantically pulling left to meet the confused gaze of Margaret. Turning around, she watched the body of the man that had held them, collapse to the ground. His face had a comic look of disbelief on it, as if this reality should not have happened.


"Emily?"


Rising, Margaret stepped to her daughter, only to get there at the same time as Harry. Watching in wonder, she saw her husband step from the brush, the smoking gun still in his hand.


"How…"


"We were close enough to hear the gunshot. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have left you alone."


His arm pointed to the body on the ground, his words uttered with contempt.


"This was the man that had delivered J back to the Centre. If it wasn't for him, we would have been safe.” Her husband's arm pulled her close into an embrace. His voice changed, gentleness evident when he whispered, “I'm just grateful that you and Emily have not been seriously hurt."


She turned to where Harry was helping her daughter to stand.


"Where's Jarod and J?" Emily asked, her arm roughly bandaged and resting in a sling, the throbbing a little bit better. She was leaning tiredly into Harry, his one arm gripping her waist, the other her arm. Her brown eyes were fixed on her father’s, waiting for an explanation from him.


"There were some complications. I have no idea if Mr White has contacted the Centre or not. Either way, we have to get away from here. I'll explain what happened on the way," he answered, starting towards where they had parked the car.


**********


Log house

Jarod watched Alex rise from the chair like an avenging angel, the storm lantern throwing shadows across his face that moved and writhed in anger so primeval that the remembrance of it was a vague pinprick on the time-line of life. He had to take an involuntary step back from the surreal image before him, his left leg nearly giving way beneath his body. His hand tightened on the woman that stood next to him to keep him from stumbling. He could feel the tension and play of her muscles beneath his hand when she resolutely stood fast to provide the support he needed.


That step was all it took. Miss Parker seemed to awake from her dream, her tear-streaked face angling towards his determined face, his hand still holding tight to her arm. It was in that moment that time stood still, that all the things he had always wanted to say to her seemed to flow between their hearts. Intertwining, understanding. It was the perfect moment of communication, his intent as visible to her as if he had said it aloud. He felt her muscles ripple, her legs spreading slightly to help steady his stance. Her gaze was clear, ready for the action he was about to take.


His hand drew back, the flashlight twirling from it, his body enfolding hers as he pulled both of them towards the ground. Time returned with the flashlight crashing into the lamp. The glass shattered, splinters showering Alex’s arms, slicing through his clothing. The flame spluttered and leaped with the spilling gasoline, hungrily consuming the dry wood and Alex’s cloth where the fuel splatters had fallen. The matchbox ignited with a hiss and flare, fuelling the rapidly spreading flame. Alex’s screams was enough to draw Mark to his side, clumsily trying to hit at the flames that were quickly spreading. Ignoring the chaos behind them, Jarod rose, pulling Parker with him. The key was still in the door, turning it and exiting seemed to take so long, their lungs heaving in the smoke filled air.


Coughing, shaking, they held on to each other as the fell from the room into the warm outside air. They stumbled and crawled till they had moved away from the ever-increasing heat that growled behind them, the house now totally consumed in its hunger. Jarod stopped, his leg finally succumbing to the physical exertion he had put on. Rolling onto his back, he watched the flames shoot into the sky, the roar and crackle loud in his ears. His eyes streamed with tears, soot covering his clothes and face. His head rolled sideways, meeting those of Parker's. She was sitting by his side, bent over and gulping big mouthfuls of air. His hand reached for her before his own need for air started hacking coughs. The heaving of their bodies as they drew in clean air, expunging the foul air in violent explosions; kept the words inside but it didn’t matter.

Something had happened inside and with it the knowledge that against all odds, the ending of their story had forever been changed.


**********


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Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Thanks for all the great reviews; this one is a bit long but could not find myselfto cut scenes or break the chap in two. Enjoyed writing this one and worked hard on it. Really hope you like it. ;-)


Survival

He could just make out the start of a red glow about a mile ahead of him. The need for stealth very obviously gone, he started a fast walk on the barely seen path. The vibration of his phone brought him to a halt.


"Lyle."


The sweeper on the other side did not want to be the messenger. Inside the Centre the bearer of bad news tended to end up down in the incinerator. They had to draw straws to decide who would call Lyle and he had lost. Kicking the body in front of him to vent, he began.


"Sir, Mr White is dead. The house and surrounding area is empty and there is no sign of the Russell family."


The only sign of his anger was in the hardening of his eyes and the thin line that edged into his lips. His voice came in a low, dangerous tone.


"You lost them?"


Swallowing, and for good measure kicking the body again, he answered in the hope that he would see the sunrise.


"Yes, sir."


Hoping that any information would save his life he continued with one fact he did know, "What we did find was blood, it looks like someone was shot."


"I want a team to search all surrounding hospitals and clinics for a gunshot victim. Tell them it's your sister or brother, I don't care… but I want them found."


Lyle was angered by the Albino's failure to deliver on his contract. Not only would his plans have to be put on hold, it also meant he had to put his fantasies of using Jarod's family to get the Pretender to cooperate fully, on hold. A small consolation inserted itself into his mind. Jarod will pay for his family's escape.


**********


“So you survived?”


“Lyle.”


Jarod met Lyle’s cold gaze, his eyes travelling to the gun in the blond man’s hand and back up again. A small sigh left him, reminding him that he was far from safe.


“Get up.”


Winching, Jarod sat up, aware of the igniting flame in his leg. Biting his lip to hold back a groan of pain, he pushed himself from the ground. His leg buckled beneath him, unable to support his tired body. Parker caught him just before he reacquainted his body with the ground again. His weight nearly dragged her with him; he could feel her tremble in her effort to keep him upright. She pulled his arm around her shoulder, her other hand encircling his waist. Her gaze challenged Lyle, daring him to say anything. With a disgusted snort, Lyle holstered his gun.


“Tom, take over before both of them end up back on the ground.”


The driver stepped closer, his grip more secure around Jarod’s waist. With the driver on one side and Parker on the other, they made their way slowly back to the car, Lyle’s impatience evident when he called in for a Centre helicopter.


“No, don’t do this…”


He was seated in the car. His right arm was around Parker who had nestled into his body. She was in an exhausted sleep, unaware of those around her. They were waiting for the helicopter; the need for subterfuge no longer required. Jarod tried to shift into a more comfortable position without waking Parker when Lyle’s hand settled on Jarod’s trembling left leg. The blond man tightened his grip, his blue eyes never leaving Jarod’s. Leaning forward, Lyle’s whispers filtered through the pain into his ears.


“You are my property. Do not ever let me run after you again.”


“Where’s Sydney? I want to see…”


He watched them take her from him. It didn’t matter that both of them needed medical assistance, he more than she. All he could think of was that he couldn’t protect her anymore. The prick as the IV line was connected failed to break his stare, trying to keep her in his sights for as long as possible. He lifted his head, the dark spread of her hair on the gurney his last vision before it too faded into nothingness.


“I won’t do this…NO….no…


“You are aware of the consequences if you don’t allow me to stabilise his leg.”


The smooth voice of Lyle interrupted, the meaning intent. Through his drug-induced haze, Jarod was vaguely aware of a hand on his leg. Possessive, meaningful. His confused eyes failed to focus, the figure a blur. He did hear the words before things faded to blessed nothingness again.


“I don’t want him able to run again…”


“Please forgive me, J…I can’t….J?”


There was a corner in his cell that was safe, if safe was something to be said about the Centre. It was the width of his bed, the shadows that were created by the bare light bulb forming a small triangle of darkness by the foot end. His bruised body barely fit into the space but it was the only solace he had. He tried to disappear in that corner of darkness, making himself small when the familiar steps followed by the clang of his door announced the presence of the sweepers. The already knew where he would be, their hands grabbing him roughly by the arms, dragging him to where Lyle waited…


“Anything….”


“If you want to know about daddy, you have to trust me.”


“You…”


He watched them strap in the boy. He watched them leave the room. He watched them tear J’s soul in two.


“Want…”


“Are you ready to do the simulation, Jarod?”


“Mr. Lyle.”


The red, blinking light was his only companion. Their silent vigil recorded his grief each time when he was brought back. They had become his only true reality.


**********

Miss Parker’s room – One week later


“Miss Parker, are you ready?”

Blue eyes followed Sydney into the room. Seated by the bed, her face was unreadable. The squeak of Raines’s oxygen tank announced the chairman behind him. Turning, Sydney pushed his hands into his pockets. His gaze on Raines was steady, his hands forming fists as he restrained himself from wringing the ghoul’s neck.

“You…should reconsider…this decision…Miss Parker. The Centre…had always…looked after…the Parkers. You’re mother…”

A dangerous glint formed in her eyes. Holding on to the bed, she rose unsteadily but with such grace that for a moment left Sydney speechless. That movement reminded him so much of Catherine and their last fateful meeting before she had faked her own death in the elevator.

“is dead because of the Centre.”

The few steps it took her to enter Raines’ personal space drew heavily on her resources. Ignoring the rubber feeling in her legs, she faked a smile as she leaned in. Her hand pushed down on the air hose, effectively closing down all oxygen to his lungs.

“I suggest you go back to whatever dank hellhole you had crawled from before my demented brother becomes the new chairman.”

For two seconds they silently confronted before Raines bowed out. A faint tint of blue had settled on his lips when Miss Parker let go. They left under Raines’ gaze, as the ailing man tried to get his breathing back under control.

**********

Sydney's office – 9 days later


Closing and locking his office door, Sydney allowed his worry for Jarod and J to surface for the first time. The boy had disappeared from the Infirmary the night that the rescue was supposed to have taken place and Jarod taken somewhere outside the Centre by Lyle. The boy was still missing; Broots had been unable so far to find any mention of him in any of the Centre archives. Jarod had been taken to the Infirmary with the rescued Miss Parker that next morning. He had tried to get access to the Pretender but had been denied any interaction with him. He had been repeatedly warned that if they caught him with Jarod, that his prodigy would be the one that would suffer the consequences of his disobedience. He had been prepared even then to try and find a way, but the mental and physical health of Miss Parker had forced him to make a choice for that moment. When she had been sufficiently stabilised, he had Broots disable the camera's to Jarod's room. He had entered in the dead of night, hoping to have a chance to speak to the younger man only to find the room empty. Now, it was a week later and Raines had resolutely ignored all his questions and pleadings. He had Broots canvassing all systems to try to see if they could determine where the two Pretenders were being kept.


A soft glint of light on metal drew his attention away from his current thoughts. Part of an unmarked DSA glinted from underneath some paper he had left on his desk. Frowning, he picked up the disc, trying to decide why it had been left. A faint bang from the air duct made him smile. Angelo. Sliding it into the pocket of his shirt, he grabbed his jacket. It was time to find Broots.


**********


Jarod was barely conscious, hoping that if he convinced Lyle and the sweepers that if he wasn't present anymore that they would leave him alone. He heard the sound of a fist connecting with flesh and the grunt of pain from J. For the moment their focus had moved from him to the boy. He was tired beyond compare; he had no idea when the last time was that he had had an unbroken three hours of sleep. His body was riddled with cuts and bruises, a cracked tibia in his left leg left him cripple and unable to walk on his own. His obedience and cooperation was given in an effort to protect both him and J from further abuse.


Lyle had made sure that he had fully understood that to try and protect the boy would lead only to more punishment for J. He had been forced to watch the abuse that the sweepers had inflicted without emotion the first and only time he had dared to stand up to the blond man; increasing his guilt that ate at him from the inside out.


He tried to ignore the spasms that shot up his leg. Another thing he had learned quickly was that any movement brought attention and attention meant new ways for Lyle to enforce his ownership. His eyes closed, his breathing shallow while he lay on the cold cement floor trying to ignore the messages of pain his body was screaming at him. His ears picked up J's voice when the boy rumbled in agreement; repeating the words Lyle wanted to hear.


"I belong to the Centre. My sole purpose is to do as I'm told."


This was an automatic response that was given every time Lyle asked them who they were. That and other reinforced sentences were slowly eroding away his own sense of who he was. On some level he understood what Lyle was doing - that breaking them down physically helped to strengthen the psychological conditioning, but on another level he avoided the issue completely. He had found that to resist the ideas that Lyle was forcing down his throat lead to more pain for both him and the boy. The one or two times he had complied with their captor's demands without resistance had been rewarded with praise. He hated the way it made him feel; filthy and weak. He had only done two sims so far and then only to save the boy from the sensory room - his pet name for the small room that J was strapped in and then forced to endure repeated scenes of violence as punishment. His retraining was currently more important to Lyle than for the Centre to start profiting from his skills again.


He must have really blacked out for when he became aware of his surroundings again, he was alone with Lyle. He was on his side; his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. A dull throb started from somewhere between his shoulder blades, making its way upwards to his neck and a headache that didn’t want to go away. He could feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest when he inadvertently met the ice blue gaze of his handler. Averting his eyes, he tried to swallow the unwanted fear of punishment that was slowly spreading through his limbs. A hardback chair was placed by his head. Lyle slid his hand under his arms, pulling him from the floor onto the seat. A grunt of pain escaped from his mouth when a new cut was opened on his wrists. He could feel the sticky wetness seep from his wrists while Lyle positioned him on the chair. Keeping his head lowered in the hope to avoid setting the other man off, he waited while Lyle pulled leather straps tight across his chest and waist. He tried to shift slightly to elevate the pressure on his arms when Lyle stepped behind him.


"Jarod, you do know that all this is your fault. If you cooperated like you're supposed to, you would have saved yourself and the boy so much pain."


Sitting quietly, he tried to ignore the words and intention behind it. He tensed when Lyle's hand gripped his neck. The words were velvet, the air of their passing caressing his face like a lover.


"Tell me who I am?"


He knew what Lyle wanted. This was not the standard response that was to be given when others were present. This was something private that Lyle enjoyed hearing whenever they were alone together. If he bothered to look up, he knew that he would find this part of his "re-education" unrecorded. Keeping his gaze lowered, he answered dully.


"My owner and master. The one who knows what is best for me.”


“Very good, Jarod. You’re starting to learn.”


Lyle was thoughtful, a predatory smile evident on his face as he watched the play of muscles on Jarod’s bare back and neck.


Leaving Jarod seated, he fetched a glass of water he had one of the sweepers leave by the wall earlier. Lifting the pretender’s head, he pushed the glass against his lips, ordering him to drink. The other man obeyed, swallowing the cold liquid tentatively. A diluted sedative had been added to the water, enough to keep Jarod tired and malleable. It had taken one photo of a sleeping Miss Parker and the promise that she would experience the same drug in full strength - enough to send her into a coma - to enforce Jarod’s cooperation in drinking the liquid. Taking the empty glass from his lips, he waited until Jarod raised his eyes and met his gaze hesitantly before rewarding his captive with a smile.


“Good boy, Jarod.”


Putting the glass back against the wall, he returned to his property. It had taken nine days of sleep deprivation, physical abuse and threats to the clone to get Jarod to this point of conditioning. He reckoned another month and Jarod would belong to him - mind, body and soul. He had never forgotten his previous offer he had made to Jarod. With Jarod’s intelligence belonging to him coupled with his leadership skills, he would have everything he desired. And in that process, he would get rid of all obstacles that stood in his path to the top. Smiling at that thought, he pushed the Pretender’s head against the back, making sure he had the man’s attention.


“It’s time to start your training.”


**********


Miss Parker’s office


Broots wanted to throw up. He couldn’t watch anymore. His hand darted forward, shutting the screams into silence.


“W…what are they doing to them, Sydney?”


Sydney barely heard the question, stunned by the level to which Lyle was prepared to go to ensure that Jarod and the boy cooperated. The tech’s hand on his arm brought him back to the present.


“If this is any indication of how Jarod and J’s days are, we need to find them before it is too late. See if you can correlate any of the rooms we see on the DSA with schematics that we have of the Centre.”


Taking the DSA, Broots turned to leave.


“And Broots, be careful.”


**********

Sydney's home – 12 days later

Miss Parker slowly slid her legs over the side of the bed. Seated for the moment on the edge, she took a moment to listen to the everyday sounds that filled her room. The leaves rustling the big red oak that stood in front of her room bringing with it the twerp and chatter of birds flowing on the warm breeze that entered her open window. She could hear Sydney humming while the sounds of breakfast being prepared reminded her that it was egg and bacon day. The smell tingled her nostrils; her mouth watering at the thought of what was being prepared. Her toes curled on the thick carpet, the softness another reminder of how different things were. The call for breakfast in ten minutes woke her from her contemplations. Some of the old Miss Parker surfaced when she groaned in annoyance at the interruption of her thoughts before rising to face another day.

**********

The room was well lit, the neon lights chasing away any vestiges of shadows that could have survived. Four cameras sat snug in the corners recording all. A table sat in the centre of the bare room with two chairs around it. The door opened and two men entered. Big biceps bulged beneath their designer suits, violence barely contained. Between them hung another, his arms gripped in unconcerned hands. Unceremoniously he was dropped by the table, left with nothing, bare as the room. Shifting gradually upwards, he used the furniture to pull himself into a chair. His hands were cuffed; the bruises around the wrists a motley of darker and of faded yellow older ones. Newer cuts, scrubbed raw from overuse, overlied the history of older ones. His face was swollen, a recent cut on his cheek still dripping red. Slowly, his hands came up, wiping away the hurt. Eyes, brown and hard stared at the crimson dripping from fingers. Fascinated, he followed the path of his own blood. His eyes travelled after the dark, red drops that escaped his fingertips, ever downwards to hell.

**********

Comfort Inn

Major Charles was pacing the floor of his room, trying to calm himself with promises that he will find his two sons before it was too late. The rest of his family was safe; his daughter's injuries looked after by Harry and Margaret. He had moved them out of state to an old friend that had somehow stayed off the Centre's radar. Now he was back, waiting to meet with Sydney to discuss how they were going to proceed in rescuing his sons.

A knock brought his pacing to a halt. Two long steps took him to the door, his gun in his hand. Throwing a glance through the peep hole before opening the door he found not only Sydney but Miss Parker and the tech standing in front him. Immediately suspicious, he stood aside while they trooped inside, the gun still in his hand. Leaning out he looked left and right down the corridor. Satisfied that no other Centre personnel were evident, he closed the door and locked it. Turning towards the psychiatrist, he indicated the woman seated on the bed, the fact that it was his gun hand emphasising his mistrust.

"Why is she here? Haven't her family done enough."

"Major…" Sydney's soft, accented voice admonished before he was interrupted by Miss Parker.

"He has a point, Sydney." Her eyes met the steel grey of the Major's, her gaze as unwavering as his.

"I am well aware of what," grimacing, she continued tiredly, "my family has done. That does not mean that I condone their actions or agree with their methods. I…"

For the first time in her life she was unsure on how to proceed. She wanted to explain about her and Jarod, about turning points and making her mother proud, about life-changing decisions that brought light to her soul, about finding herself in love with the person she had been chasing for the past five year to bring back to an organisation that was hell bent on breaking his spirit. Suddenly ashamed of her past actions, she looked at her hands that rested on her lap, aware of the physical scars left behind from her time in Alex's lair. Rising her eyes back to the Major she saw his face soften although he didn't holster the gun.

"You're mother tried to help my family once…"

Turning his gaze from the woman back to Sydney, he asked brusquely to hide his own discomfort at the unwelcome memories that filled his mind.

"What have you found?"

"Jarod and the boy are not at the Centre. Lyle had them moved to some unknown location. It took us this long to figure out where."

"And"

Broots answered at Sydney's nod, spreading a blue print on the small table opposite the double bed.

"T…they are kept at D…donoterase."

**********

Donotarese


Lyle kept an eye on the unresponsive pretender, a phone pressed to his ear while his hand played with Jarod's dark hair.


"If you had done as I asked I wouldn't be worrying about my sister."


Listening to the other voice, his fingers tugged angrily, eliciting a soft moan from Jarod. He noticed the tell tale signs that his captive was slowly regaining his senses.


“Be careful, I might just forget our arrangement.”


Glancing at the camera to make sure it was inactive; he allowed his hand to drift from their playing with Jarod’s hair to settling on his shoulder.


“You have my permission to use whatever means you deem necessary, but get rid of her.”


Lifting the pretender’s head, he gazed at the closed eyes, taking note of the play of light on Jarod’s face.


“And Alex,”


Allowing Jarod’s head to drop back, he spoke his final warning.


“Do not disappoint me again.”

**********

Anger and frustration were never a good mix, especially where Alex was concerned. He threw the phone out the window, his only link to Lyle effectively terminated. He had never liked it when people underestimated him. The centre had done it, thinking he was sub par to Jarod; the Triumvirate at first before he showed them his capabilities and now Lyle. Their agreement had been one of convenience, the promise of working and moulding Parker enough for him to play the game.


Overtaking a small sedan, he cut in front of oncoming traffic. Tailgating slightly, he plucked the steering wheel to the left before gaining control again. The sharp movement stretched his arm muscles, the dull throb of the burns along his right arm expanding in a sudden sharp pain, reminding him once again of how Jarod had escaped and with him, his prize. He had wanted the dark man to watch as he moulded her into his; but like the previous time, Jarod had failed to do as was required.


It was time the pretender learned the consequences of taking what did not rightfully belong to him. The thought of what he planned brought some calm, the anger now only simmering. Slowing down, he pulled of the highway, the sun glinting on the cars parked in front of the inn he was aiming for. Entering the car park at a more leisurely pace, he pulled underneath a shady tree in the corner.


Timing was everything.

**********

The blue prints had made way for Broots' laptop, hard drives and optical discs taking up the small space that was left on the table. The tech was currently hunched over the computer, his fingers typing away, his concentration evident. Miss Parker and Major Charles were seated by the double bed on plastic chairs they asked for from management, papers surrounding their area. With a sense of pride, Broots leaned back and with flourish pushed the ‘enter’ button. His sigh of achievement when the programme started its run without a glitch, was not ignored.


"Is it working?"


Turning, he looked at Major Charles that had somehow moved from his chair to stand at his right shoulder. He was about to start when Miss Parker's voice was added,


"Now, Broots."


Turning to his left, he found the raised eyebrow of Miss Parker demanding an answer. A little overwhelmed with the attention he stammered an answer.


"Y…yes, i…it should w…work. I…I only need…to change t…the subroutines o…on L…Lyle's hard drive and i…it's finished."


It was about time that Lyle paid for his actions against her and Jarod. They had decided to set the blond man up for a major fall at the Centre, something not even he would be able to slither out of. Sydney and Broots had stolen Lyle's hard drive, leaving a cloned one in place for the time being. They were changing internal settings and logs to show Lyle sending sensitive and highly classified information to competitors for a second salary. They had set up a bank account offshore that showed a steady income over a period of the past year. An untraceable, anonymous email will be automatically sent with the relevant information when Broots had swapped the hard drives. Miss Parker hoped the shock of reading the mail would cause Raines an aneurism, highly unlikely but there is always hope.


"I'll let Sydney know that we are ready. It should take us around two hours to get to Donoterase."


The major's hand on her arm stopped her.


"Are you sure you are able to do this? Physically, I mean."


Miss Parker allowed a tight smile to surface, her eyes determined.


"I'll be fine."


Pulling her gun from the holster in her back, she expertly checked the chamber before returning it.


"Besides, I owe Jarod."

**********

It was safer to pretend. It was safer to do what was asked. It was safer not to care. Curling tight, J allowed exhaustion to take him away from the pain, hate and betrayal. Slowly, his bruised body relaxed, his breaths deepening until…


He opened his eyes.


It felt weird. He couldn't quite figure out what had happened. He was standing on a gravel road, green meadows stretching to the left and right of him as far as the eye could see. A slight breeze was caressing his face; a small dust devil followed a crooked path before moving off the road onto the grass. He could see the swirl of loose twigs and leaves dancing on the circle of swirling wind. Intrigued he watched the devil till it abruptly dissipated as quickly as it had started. Eyes turning upwards, he enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face, the blue sky dotted with white clouds. Returning his gaze to the ground, he looked straight ahead. The road meandered onwards, no end in sight. Wondering about his location, he turned a hundred and eighty degrees, his back now facing the other way.


In front of him loomed a dark castle, the sky streaked with red and orange, dark clouds roiling around the spindly towers that stretched upwards. Afraid, he took an involuntary step backwards and ended up a step closer. Frowning, he wondered if he had experienced the movement. More attentive now, he made sure that he took a step back. Again it seemed like he took a step forward. Not wanting to move closer to the darkness, he turned back to the sunshine and stretching road. He counted four steps, looking over his shoulder after each second one. He was still moving closer. Walking turned into running, hoping that speed would break the spell of going closer. When he looked back, he stood in front of the drawbridge. Swallowing, he stared past the black portcullis, the sharp points on the end of it grinning back at him. For the first time he became aware of what he was wearing. A light tunic covered his chest and arms, chain mail overlaid on top. His wore leather pants and light boots. Strapped to his side was a broad sword, the handle intricate, swirls and patterns formed around it.


Closing his hand around the handle, he drew the sword. Bringing the blade up to his face, he watched the play of light on the shining surface, aware of how comfortable the sword sat in his grip. Returning his attention to the surround area again, he noticed that in between the time it had taken him to draw the sword, he had somehow moved and now stood in the centre of a huge hallway. Big, double doors waited before him, the wood shiny and dark. Pressing with his full body, he managed to push one open. The door moved slowly inward with a groan that was deep and ominous.


A figure stood in the centre of the room, waiting. Tapestries hugged the walls, the interwoven pictures depicting hate, evil and death. Light flickered from the torches, spilling from the walls in menace. Then, a voice boomed around the chamber.


"I have been waiting for you."


His focus came back on the lone figure. His hands sweating on the grip, he had to swallow to get some saliva in his mouth to ask the question.


"Who are you?"


The figure stepped closer until it was a sword's length away. Lifting the helmet that covered his head, his eyes gleamed when he answered.


"I am Gemini."

**********

His patience was rewarded. He watched the trio enter the car, unaware of his presence. The screen next to him made small beep noises, showing him the location of the car. Smiling, he reset his seat to its proper setting, before starting the car and following the blinking red light on the screen.

**********

His stared in shock at his own mirror image, unable to comprehend what was happening. Whispering, he tried to understand what he was seeing.


"What do you want?"


His image stepped closer, the eyes hard and glinting with evil. His watched the other lift his sword, attacking with a mighty swing. He brought his sword up just in time, the clang vibrating around the room when the swords met, his arms jerking in shock. In that interlock Gemini leaned closer, his foul breath caressing J's face when he answered.


"Your life."

**********

They had parked the car in a small grove of trees just south of the compound. Although it was underground, they did not want a sweeper stumbling into the car by mistake. Her gun leading the way, Miss Parker followed Major Charles as they made their way to the barn and the hidden route he and Jarod had used previously to enter Donoterase. The smell of dung hit her nostrils and she grimaced at the invading stink. Sydney followed behind them, his backpack filled with medical supplies and a leg brace for Jarod. They only hoped that both pretenders would be physically able to walk. They did not have the resources or manpower for a full-scale attack.

She watched the Major lift the trapdoor, her eyes roving the inside of the barn for any tell tale signs of surveillance. Finding none, she followed them down the stairs.

**********

He awoke in turmoil to find a foot sinking into his side. Groaning, he looked up blearily at the figure that towered above him.

"Mr. Lyle wants to see you."

Swallowing his fear, he nodded in answer, careful to keep his eyes lowered. Painfully rising, he was sandwiched between two sweepers as they took him to the project room. Seating himself at the desk, he waited patiently for the other man. The familiar footsteps of the blond man settled in dread in the pit of his stomach. Rising, he stood quietly by the desk, his eyes lowered in respect as he was taught. No emotion played on his features; he had learned that if any were evident, it would be punished immediately and painfully.

"Gemini, you're training is nearly complete. This will be your final test."

Lyle watched for any sign that the boy tried to deny his destiny. When no rebellion became evident, he was pleased. The boy had been so much easier to manipulate than Jarod, the older pretender still a long way from J's current cooperation. Throwing the folder he had been carrying onto the table, he watched it slide across the top before it was stopped by the boy's hand.

"Open it."

J watched his hand open the folder. The first page was an A4 glossy photo. Staring back at him was his father…

"He is not our father; our only family is the Centre."

J stumbled backwards with each stroke the other gave, his hands vibrating with each swing he blocked.

**********

The first sweeper was not a problem. The moron had stopped in shock on seeing all three of them, his hand stuck in his holster when she took the two steps that was needed to bring her within range and knocked him into dreamland with the butt of her gun. Allowing the Major to drag the body into a disused storage room, she followed the directions Broots had drawn. Two more sweepers were taken down; one from the Major’s left hook, the other from behind, never knowing what had hit him. That left approximately four sweepers, an estimate that they could only glean from the records. They hoped.

**********

"I want you to find him. Will that be a problem?"

His fingers lightly caressed the lines of worry, the grey hair that flowed in waves around the forehead.

"You are weak… Emotions make you weak… Caring makes you weak."

He stumbled onto his buttocks, his one hand trying to keep his upper body of the floor, the other holding the sword trying to block the aggressive swings from the clone that came with each uttered sentence.

“Gemini!”

Startled, he looked up, briefly making contact with Lyle’s eyes. Swallowing, he averted his gaze back to the file and his…father?

Who taught him to shave.

Blocking, he shuffled back far enough to rise.

Who taught him how to live.

Taking a step forward, he counter-attacked.

Who taught him how to love.

Swinging, he watched the figure stumble and fall to its knees. Gasping, he stood over him, his other self. Drawing a deep breath, he made one statement as his sword rose.

“My name is,”

Swinging downwards, he felt the blade bit into flesh.

“J.”

A bright flash blinded him. When his eyes returned to normal, he found himself back on the road, both sides stretching towards the horizon and a possible future. Smiling, he took his first step.

Lyle watched in disbelief. The boy was changing before his eyes. He seemed to grow in height, becoming stronger. The eyes rose to meet his, their gaze clear and determined.

“No.”

Just that one word. It vibrated around the room, making sure all heard it and all understood. Lyle saw strength shine through the boy that he had only seen in Jarod. He almost took a step backward before remembering where he was. He was about to order the sweepers to punish Gemini when the sounds of gunshots reached his ears.

**********

Now leading the way, she stepped around the corner. A shout swung her head left, down the corridor to where a startled sweeper had his gun drawn. Dropping, she turned in one movement, her gun lining up on the man. His finger pulled the trigger in his death throes, the discharge loud in the closed area. The fourth sweeper made the mistake to investigate and she finished him with a cold professionalism that would have made her father proud. The adrenaline rushed through her, invigorating her senses to a high sense of awareness. Stepping over the two bodies, she looked into the room they had exited. Huddled against the wall was Jarod. He was semi-conscious, his body curled tight in a defensive position. She could count the scars and bruises on his body, his brown eyes barely focusing. Lyle will pay for this, she promised silently when she motioned to Sydney before kneeling by her childhood friend.

“Jarod,” gently she coaxed him, her hand moving down his face in an intimate caress. His eyes fluttered but he stayed unresponsive.

“Jarod, come on, you have to wake up now.”

Smiling at his slowly opening eyes, she continued to speak to him while Sydney worked on his most visible injuries that could hinder them in their escape.

“Hi, remember me.”

She saw the confusion in his dark brown eyes, a slight frown when he looked around the room. His gaze resettled on her, becoming clearer as the stimulant Sydney had injected began working. Painfully, his voice hoarse he said.

“I knew you would…come for me…Will you…never stop…chasing…me?”

Shaking her head in answer, she answered with a smile that was only ever meant for him.

“What do you think? I always get my man.”

He smiled before winching at the reminded injuries.

“Miss Parker, we still need to find J?”

Rising from the Pretender’s side, she nodded at the Major.

“Sydney, take Jarod to the entrance while we go find J. There’s only two rooms left, and for my brother’s sake I hope he isn’t in one of them.”

Following the corridor, she turned left. A swinging door warned her enough. She killed the fifth sweeper without remorse, Jarod’s injuries payment enough for the death. Slamming the door against the wall, she entered the room. It was empty except for a silent sweeper standing by a table. She could see the fear in the man’s eyes when her question came in a low growl.

“Where is the boy?”

“Lyle took him; h…he went out the east entrance.”

Her cold gaze settled on him, feeling his answer out for lies. She saw his eyes widen when she raised her gun eye level, narrowing her gaze.

“Turn around.”

His face went white, his eyes widening before he followed her command. Closing the door, she locked it on the still kneeling sweeper, pleading for his life.

**********

Pulling the boy tight against his body, he moved down the small path. The sound of his sister calling his name increased his fear. He was well aware that she would have no compunction to shoot him. Deciding that hiding was better than running, he crossed the clearing, veering towards his right. He only noticed the car when they were practically right on top of it. Thanking his good luck, he pushed the boy against the hot metal, holding him in place with his body. Checking the front door, he swore when it failed to open. Wiping his mouth, he looked around before the voice of his sister called to him again, this time closer. Looking wildly around him, he finally noticed some covering where thick underbrush hugged the ground. Pulling J with him, he made sure he was well covered while still able to watch the car.

He forced the boy onto his stomach under the brush, his knee pressing on Gemini’s back. Warning him to stay quiet and still, he pulled his tie from his neck and gagged the boy. Hearing the crunch of footsteps, he laid down next to Gemini, his one arm holding the boy tight against his body, the other pressing the gun into the small area where the jaw hinged into the skull. His mouth close to the boy’s ear, he breathed,

“Move and you’re dead.”

**********

Jarod and Sydney were slowly making their way towards where the car had been parked. His father had gone ahead, Miss Parker still trying to find any indication of where Lyle had taken the boy.

Jarod tried to keep up. He was leaning quiet heavily onto Sydney, unable to lighten his weight. His eyes was on his feet, counting his steps to freedom. The stimulant coursed through his blood, helping a bit with the pain and fatigue. Lifting his head, he was grateful to find the car parked about two hundred meters in front of him. Dropping it to his feet again, he concentrated on moving forward. He took one more step and his world changed.

He heard a dull sound and the grunt of pain from his father. His eyes rose to find his father barely conscious, blood dripping from a cut in this forehead. He was held upright by Alex, pulled tight against the sociopath’s body. A low moan of pain escaped when a gun was pushed against the Major’s temple.

“Jarod, long time no see.”

“As you can see, I did survive. I could have done without the burns, but you can’t have everything in life, now can you?”

Swallowing, Jarod could only stare, his mind numb from Lyle’s attempts at brainwashing and his physical abuse. He heard a step behind him, aware of her smell.

“So good of you to join us, Miss Parker. The conversation has so far been a little one sided. It looks Lyle really did a number on golden boy here.”

“Let my father go. This is between us.”

The words came slow, his mind heavy with fatigue and pain. All Jarod could think about was how helpless his father looked in Alex’s grip.

“No, Jarod. This was never something between us. If I were you, I would ask Lyle about Miss Parker’s captivity next time you see him. You see, we made a deal. He would get you, and well, Miss Parker and I…”

Alex smiled suggestively, a wink thrown at the woman standing behind the other two men, her gun focused on him.

“You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you.”

Alex pulled the Major closer, hiding behind the gun he held on him.

“I don’t think so Miss Parker. If you want Jarod to still have some semblance of a family life, i.e. a father I suggest you drop your gun.”

“I’m not insane. What makes you think I won’t make the shot?”

Alex smiled, his finger tightening on the trigger.

“You might kill me, but I wonder if Jarod would ever forgive you for getting his father killed in the process.”

Alex laughed; a sinister chuckle that filled Jarod with dread.

“All I want is you, Miss Parker. Jarod will go free when you come with me.”

No

“You have my word…”

**********

J could see the clearing. He saw his father in Alex’s grip, Jarod and Sydney watching, Miss Parker staring down her gun sights at the other. Slowly, he tried to shift but Lyle felt the movement. The gun pushed harder, reminding him of where he was. Tears starting to flow from his eyes, the only thing he could do was watch.

**********

“I’m getting tired of this. Either agree or not, but you have five seconds.”

She could see the increased tension on Alex’s finger; she could see Jarod’s body tense. Releasing her breath, she threw her gun to the side. Better to surrender herself and let Alex think he had won. What he didn’t know was that she had a spare strapped to her ankle, and she was very prepared to use it when the time came.

“Very good, Miss Parker. Now, step towards me with your hands behind your head.”

He shifted his stance slightly, still keeping the Major tight against his body. Addressing Jarod, the thought of what he was about to do filling him with glee.

**********

He watched Alex push his father to his knees. The scene was unfolding before his eyes and he could foresee only one outcome. Ignoring the man laying next to him he started to scream into the gag.

**********

Jarod could only stand numbly while Miss Parker stepped past him, her hands clutched behind her head.

Alex’s gaze met his, a demonic smile on his face.

“Just in case you ever wondered, Jarod.”

Focused on the cold, heartless gaze, his world dropped away at the next sentence.

“I am the villain in this story.”

The words died inside him, filling his soul as time stood still. He tried to reach for his dad, unbelief drowning all solutions. Alex’s eyes left his towards his father and he could only watch as the man’s finger tightened, becoming white as the pressure shut the blood vessels, nerves complying with commands. He thought he saw each miniscule millimeter as the trigger was slowly pulled.

His ears shocked into silence by the gunshot.

**********
Evil me…sorry. Only reviews will lead to the next chapter.

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

To all those who spent their time reading my fic, thanks. Hope the wait was worth it.

Escape

Jarod couldn’t breath. He knees buckled, unable to support him. His hand desperately grabbed Sydney, trying to keep upright, trying to stay conscious. He watched his father fall forward and with it Miss Parker. A gun appeared as if by magic in her hand, somehow he had missed the intervening time when she had picked it up. Denial vibrated around his head in an ever increasing crescendo, drowning all other sounds. He saw the gun in Parker's hand buck, the bullet speeding towards Alex, entering his body through the right shoulder. He saw Alex grimace, his body jerking sideways, pulling his gun away from his father, the barrel dark and menacing, pointing towards him. Darkness surrounded the edges of his vision, making it difficult to focus. He was aware of Sydney saying something but the words got lost as night finally closed in.

**********

Two days later

The warehouse had been abandoned years ago. The walls were covered in graffiti, discarded bins and rusting equipment littered the dust covered floor. The broken panes filtered rain through, increasing the feel of dampness. The flash of lighting was followed immediately by the deep rumble of thunder, startling the man enough to eye the dark clouds through one of the windows. The slight scuffle of rat's feet filled him with disgust.

This was not the way it was supposed to be. Giving the dark clouds one more look, he turned his attention to the centre of the room. His bargaining chip lay on his side with his arms and feet tightly bound. He stepped towards the body, watching it shift in response to his footsteps. He made for the small, rickety table that was close to the body; opening the dark, oblong case that sat on it. He uncapped the already filled syringe, kneeling by the boy. Pushing the shirtsleeve upwards, he coaxed a vein to appear.

Gagged and blindfolded, J could do nothing to protect himself. He felt Lyle's fingers on his arm. He held his breath when he felt the sharp point of the needle hovering over the sensitive inner side of his elbow. Turning his head slightly at his captor's hesitation, he hoped that Lyle had decided against sedating him again. The needle broke his skin, entering the blood vessel. He could feel the cool liquid making its way inside, killing the hope with disappointment. He thought he heard a phone ring above another deep rumble from the outside storm, before he succumbed to the sedative.

**********

He gradually gained consciousness. The first thing he was aware of, was a firm but comfortable mattress beneath him. Enjoying the luxury of the bed, he pulled the soft duvet over his shoulder, drifting back to nothingness again. The soft murmur of voices filled his ears, tugging at his consciousness. Ignoring their insistence he fell asleep again. At one stage, a gentle hand placed something cold on his fever-warmed forehead, bringing with it coolness and a feeling of care. Turning his head into the softness he allowed their comfort to drift him back towards sleep.

**********

"How is he?"

Turning from where she was seated next to the pretender, Miss Parker smiled at Sydney. Her hand held Jarod's, her thumb making small, comforting circles on the outside of his hand. He turned slightly at the sound of Sydney's voice, a frown fleeting across his face. Patting his hand, telling him it's all right, she rose gracefully. Leaving Jarod for the moment, they moved into the hall to talk without disturbing the recovering pretender.

"His fever broke last night. He should wake up soon."

"Any more nightmares?"

"No, not since..."

Both turned to the pretender when a soft moan escaped his lips. His eyes still closed, he tossed his head, soft words of denial escaping. His hands clenched tight on sheets, his right leg kicking out. His left leg was in traction, preventing any movement. Allowing Parker to enter first, they rushed over to the bed. Making shush-ing noises, she gently held his one hand, her other stroking his forehead almost hypnotically. Sydney held his other hand, watching as Parker's voice brought Jarod out of his nightmare and back into a healing sleep. Making sure the IV had not disconnected in Jarod's thrashing, he took note of his prodigy's pulse and breathing. Satisfied, he quietly mouthed that he would speak to her later, leaving her alone with Jarod.

**********


Three days later


"I…no…like I explained…"


He nearly threw his only link to a possible future to shatter against the wall. He was desperate; somehow evidence had been planted in his hard drive insinuating his involvement in selling information to the competition. The first time he had called Raines, he had been told that if he did not surrender, a directive would be issued that he would be shot on sight. He had listened in shock as all the plans he had so carefully set out came to a crashing halt. And all because of Alex's failure to break Parker emotionally. When he phoned the sociopath, he had been assured that Parker was ready, instigating his manipulation of Jarod to reveal her "location". He had been impressed with Alex's choice, having no idea where the other had kept her in order to keep up appearances on his side. Now, the fact that he had the boy and tried to bargain with him had failed to impress Raines.


"Shit"


He had tried to explain that somehow someone must have planted the information, that he had no idea about the offshore bank account. Raines studiously ignored all his pleas, growling his anger and promising Lyle that he would come to understand pain on a whole new level when he sent him to Africa. Not a chance. It was time to disappear and just maybe the boy could be his way out.


**********


It was a stately four-bedroom home set on surrounding farmland in central Ohio. The sun had just poked its head over the quiet land, its rays painting the sky with red, orange and pink stripes. The sounds and smells of breakfast being prepared emanated from the kitchen, the soft cluck of chickens scraping away in the yard emphasising the general sense of contentment.


Inside, past the kitchen and the woman busy cooking, sat a livid Miss Parker and Sydney in a plush study where the walls were lined with books and hunting paraphernalia. The pretender was not alone, still sleeping in an upstairs bedroom that had been converted by Harry to house all the medical equipment that was needed after his collapse at Donoterase. His physical abuse had finally caught up to him, coupled with the drugs that Lyle had been feeding him and it’s a wonder that they had managed to get him that far. Harry had a friend look at Jarod's leg, stabilising the limb before they had started on the other less serious injuries. Aside from heavy bruising and one or two cuts that had needed stitches, Jarod had survived fairly intact. Harry was hopeful that Jarod would finally be able to wake up today, his estimate that the last dregs of the drugs Lyle had given the pretender to have run its course. Until then, they had agreed to have a meeting to try to determine if they had any more leads on Lyle and J.


"And?"

"Broots is tapping into the Centre communications portal to try and track a cell phone signal. Apparently Lyle had phoned Raines trying to cut a deal."

"I don't like the hand we've been dealt, Sydney. My brother is desperate and he might do something stupid. I'm worried for J?"

"I know, Parker but until Broots are able to triangulate the signal, we don't have much to go on. We just have to be patient."

Tapping her hand against her thigh, her eyes narrowed as a thought entered her mind.

"Have Broots check Lyle's movements of a month ago. I want to know where my brother was during the time he was away from the Centre."

"I've already had Broots do that, Parker. Nothing out of the ordinary except…"

Rising an eyebrow, she turned to Sydney, her voice dangerously low,

"Except what, Sydney."

Taking a folder out of the briefcase that sat next to him, he wordlessly gave it to her. She read through the file and then read again in disbelief. Sitting back into her chair, she pinched her nose before dropping the folder onto the table between them.

"My psychotic brother had been planning this…"

Rising, she moved towards the drinks cabinet, pouring herself a good measure of scotch. Taking a sip, she tiredly massaged the back of her neck. Abruptly, she put the glass down, her hand darting to the discarded folder. Reading the second page again, she followed the lines of words, coming to a stop three quarters down.

Coming to her side, Sydney asked her;

"What did you find?"

Pointing at a particular paragraph, she waited for Sydney. Finished, he looked at Miss Parker.

"If you’re right, it means that we might have a possible location for where Lyle could have taken the boy. I'll phone Broots and let him know."

Looking at the sentence that had caught her attention, she could only hope that it would be that easy.

**********

Somehow, his steady breathing was reassuring. Sitting by the window, he looked at Jarod, an open book spread out on his lap. The young man's pallor was a lot better than when they had first brought him here. He actually had a bit of color in his cheeks amidst the fading discoloring of bruises and cuts. Looking out the window, reflecting the last few days he was alerted by the slight rustle on the bed. Turning back, he watched as Jarod started to wake, his eyes fluttering before finally opening.

Everything was blurry. Trying to focus, his hands felt the softness of the light sheet that covered his body. The pain was still there but more distant, more a memory than a constant reminder. Breathing deeper, he smelled clear air, not the recycled Centre air. Wincing at protesting muscles he shifted slightly. The constant burn and pulsing shoots of pain from his left leg that he had become used to was gone. Now only a dull ache remained.

Objects slowly began to come into view; he could gradually make out the traction set that kept his leg immobile. Hearing movement, he turned his head to see a vague figure rising from a chair by the bed. Frowning, he tried to figure out who it was. All he could see was a pink blob where the face would be, gray surrounding it. He tried to bring saliva into his mouth, trying to form a question. He couldn’t quite hear what the other was saying, his mind suddenly bringing him back to the last time he had been awake.

His father falling…

His chest started to constrict, making it increasingly difficult to breath. The tears that were starting to form further impeded his vision; trying desperately to escape the confines of his bed. A firm hand pushed him down, the voice murmuring soft words of comfort. A drinking glass was pushed against his lips;

"If you don't drink this, then Miss Parker…"

Trying to deny Lyle's voice, he tensed before obediently taking a sip. He heard the person say his name. Not wanting to face the memories just yet, he tried to ignore the voice; tried to go back to where he didn't have to think. The voice wouldn't let him. He felt the bed dip, a hand insistent on his chest. It was warm, the fingertips hard with calluses. Trying to ignore the voice of Lyle demanding obedience, he turned his head towards the person. Slowly the image started to reveal the person sitting next to him. Frowning, he tried to deny what he was seeing, his eyes showing his confusion.

I must be dreaming…

There it was again, the voice questioning and persistent. He barely recognized his own when he said;

"Dad?"

The head nodded in reassurance, his hand clutched in the others.

"You …were shot…"

He watched his father smile, answering his bewildered statement.

"I knocked the gun off course when he pulled the trigger, enough for the bullet to only graze me. It knocked me unconscious for a minute or two before I came to. By that time Miss Parker had shot Alex and you had collapsed."

"You're ….alive…"

Still trying to come to terms with his father sitting next to him, he laid back, just enjoying having somebody at his side. A thought occurred, a brief flash of something his father had said in his cell.

"Where's J?"

His eyes sought those of his father, the flash of hidden pain giving a silent answer.

"I'm sorry, son. Lyle managed to escape with J. We couldn't search for them, with both of us hurt and the Centre…we barely managed to escape as it was."

Sighing, Jarod wondered when they would ever be free of the Centre again. His eyes closed, he tried to keep them open, focused on other answers he needed but he failed. He was unaware of his father tucking him in as he drifted back into sleep again.

**********


He was seated in a rickety chair, one leg a bit shorter than the rest. He swallowed at the remembrance of the last time he had some water. His mouth was dry, the gag forced into it increasing his discomfort. He heard the familiar sound of Lyle's angry footsteps approaching. He felt Lyle's fingers tugging at the knots that held the gag in place. Leaning slightly forward at the promise, he followed the instructions his captor gave him. Surprise filled him when the blindfold was also removed. This was the first time he had been allowed to see where he was. Blinking his eyes in the twilight that filled the room, he focused them on Lyle that stood before him.


"I want a number to contact the Major, Gemini."


Shaking his head mutely, he defiantly glared back at the other. Unease filled him when Lyle didn't retaliate with violence or threats. Nodding to himself, his eyes glinting dangerously, Lyle stepped back from the boy. J followed him as far as his precarious position on the chair allowed. Listening to the fading footsteps, he was filled with dread. Lyle was becoming more and more unstable, increasing the unpredictability of his actions. Eyeing the water bottle that stood on the table not far from him, he wondered if he would make it that far before his captor returned.



**********


"He woke up briefly before drifting off again. I didn't tell him about Margaret and Emily. You were right, Sydney. The timing wasn't right."

He looked into the room from the hallway at Parker sitting by Jarod's bed.

"Major, its better this way. Let Jarod find out when he is more lucid and rested. Where are they, I saw the car leave earlier?"

Smiling ruefully, the major ran a hand across his face.

"Margaret had decided that Jarod needed some clothes and she and Emily needed some more supplies for the kitchen. When the Russell women decided something there wasn’t much a man could do to stand in their way."

Laughing at the implication, having already experienced Emily's stubbornness they made their way towards Jarod's bed. Parker was stroking his arm, smiling at his slowly awakening eyes.

"Hi, sleepyhead."

He answered in turn with a similar smile, before noticing Sydney and his father.

"Feeling better?"

Nodding at Sydney's question, he allowed Parker to shift him into a sitting position, the pillows soft behind his back.

“Where are we?”

Parker grinned at the major, before deciding to answer Jarod.

“Central Ohio…the preverbal middle of nowhere.”

With his eyes glinting mischievously, he winked at Sydney before asking

“Brave, Sydney. Even I wouldn’t dream of dragging Miss Parker all the way here…”

Parker’s reply was cut off by the sound of car doors slamming shut. The sound of women’s voices drifted through the open window. The expectant faces of the others brought a brief frown as he tried to figure out the significance of the voices and the people who were around him.

It couldn’t be…

He heard one of the boards on the stairs creak, his eyes drawn to the doorway. His mouth suddenly dry, his palms sweating. Irrationally, he suddenly wondered if he looked presentable. Combing his fingers through his hair, the stopped when he saw his mother. He felt tears form, unable to say anything. She seemed to sense his emotion, moving forward.

Enfolded in her embrace, it was everything and more that he had ever imagined. He smelled her hair, fruity with a hint of jasmine. Allowing himself to be comforted, he felt the tears when he murmured against her neck.

“I have been searching so long…”

“I know.”

Lifting his head, she kissed him lightly on his cheek before pulling him back into her embrace. Rocking him slightly, she murmured soft words of love. The others left mother and son alone, giving them the privacy.

Held in his mother’s embrace, he closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time in a long while.

**********

Five days later

He heard Lyle’s footsteps returning, shifting slightly so that he could see the other. He was dragging something, one of the big army tog bags. Lyle dropped the bag in front of him, his manner relaxed despite the exertion he must have spent. A sadistic smile settled on his face. Unzipping the bag, he shifted it so that whatever was inside rolled out. J’s anger increased when he looked at the body of a young Asian woman, blood covering her face and shirt she had on. Lyle took out a phone, flipping it open. Tilting his head, he waited, his hand hovering over the buttons. His voice thick, J recited the emergency number he had of his dad, once again looking at the unconscious girl.

The phone was pushed against his ear. Glancing at Lyle, he listened to the sound of ringing on the other side. He briefly closed his eyes when he heard his father’s questioning voice. Swallowing, he answered quietly.

“Dad,” glancing at Lyle again, he continued, “it’s me, J.”

“J, where are you. Are you ok?”

J had no idea what Lyle wanted him to say, the phone still pressed against his ear. He answered his dad, hoping that it was what Lyle wanted.

“I’m fine, dad. Lyle is here, I think he might want to talk to you.”

Lyle smiled his praise as the phone was pulled away from J’s ear.

“Major Charles, how much do you love your son?”

Walking behind J, he pulled the boy against the back of the chair. He could feel J stiffen beneath his hand.

“I lost everything because of your interference. Do you think J could be payment enough?”

“What do you propose?”

His hand encircled J’s neck, tightening slightly, warning the boy to be still.

“I want to speak to Jarod.”

“No. I won’t…”

Lyle’s eyes darkened, his hand increasing its grip.

“Major, I don’t think you understand. Let me speak to Jarod… now, or you will listen over the phone to the last breaths of your other son.”

He watched J struggle for breath, a tight smile on his lips. He could hear the panic in the Major’s voice.

“Lyle, wait. I can’t. Jarod is still unconscious. He…”

“I think you’re lying, Major and I don’t like being lied to. Say goodbye to Gemini.”

He flipped the phone closed, releasing his hand from around J’s neck and patting him on the head like a household pet. Kneeling by May Lin, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, allowing his hand to linger on her cheek. Turning, he winked at J before opening his knife.

**********

“Lyle!”

Shouting once more in the dead phone did not calm his nerves. The cold and unemotional utterance left him weak and terrified for J’s safety. Calming his nerves, he started down the stairs.

“Dad?”

Turning on his heels, he saw his son holding on to the lintel of the doorway to keep his balance.

“Jarod, you shouldn’t be up. You need to be in bed.” Moving forward, he slipped one hand underneath Jarod’s arm, fully intended to return him. Jarod stopped him, his eyes searching the Major’s face.

“What did Lyle want?”

Shaking his head, he tried to coach Jarod back. Jarod’s quiet voice tore at his heart; he couldn’t afford to lose him again.

“Please…dad.”

Looking into Jarod’s brown eyes, he saw all the years of loneliness and pain buried deep. Increasing his grip, he pulled his son into an embrace. The ringing phone interrupted their thoughts, breaking them apart. Settling his son on the bed, he answered, aware of Jarod’s gaze on him.

“Lyle?”

“Dad, its me. Lyle wants to speak to Jarod.”

He could hear the pain in his son’s voice increasing his worry.

“J, did he hurt you?”

He hurt J gasp, a low moan whispering over the line.

“Lyle, leave him alone…Lyle!”

The major’s eyes filled with panic when he called for a third time, hearing the quiet sobs his son was suppressing. His face darkened with anger, his hand white where it gripped the phone.

“J can’t come to the phone right now. If I were you Major, I put Jarod on the line. Else, you can listen as I…”

Holding the phone out to Jarod, he looked at his son’s eyes, silently asking for forgiveness.

Jarod growled a low greeting, aware of the background noises from the other.

“Well well, if it isn’t wonder boy. You know, Jarod, you caused me a lot of trouble and I want you to undo it.”

“Undo what? I woke up yesterday for the first time, Lyle and before that you had me under lock and key.”

“I do not underestimate your skills.” Lyle snapped, “I want you on route 26 in two hours.”


Before Jarod could respond, the call was disconnected.


**********


“Jarod, I cannot believe that you think you are going to do this on your own. How do you think you will drive with that leg of yours?”


“Parker, I cannot put anyone else in danger, he wants…”


“No, Jarod. We did not save your ass to watch you hand it back to my demented brother on a plate.”


Folding her arms, she leaned back, lifting one delicate eyebrow.


Sighing, Jarod looked at his toes sticking out of the plaster. He tended to forget how obstinate she really could be. This argument had been going on for fifteen minutes, and he was still nowhere in convincing her to stay away.


“Have you ever considered that I might know what I’m doing?”


“Really, and here I thought you were a genius.”


**********

Warehouse – 12:00


He stopped just inside the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. The warm breeze ruffled his hair, tingling his senses with its touch. He could just make out the dim interior from where he leaned on his crutches, the darker shadows from discarded equipment barely perceived.


Parker had dropped him of at the gate after another heated discussion, finally relenting to his plan with another stern warning.


"Jarod, I will never forgive you if you manage to get yourself killed. Remember that."


He watched in disbelief when she drove off, wheels screaming in anger as the car fishtailed before she brought it back under control. He could only hope that someday in the distant future he will fully comprehend all the pieces that made up Parker.


He noticed an old table and chair towards the back of the warehouse. The reason it had drawn his attention was due to the laptop screen that shone a blue halo around it. Leaving the sunlight streaming through the door, he made his way further into the dusky interior. Pulling the chair closer, he leaned his crutches against the table. He nearly fell over, the one shorter leg pulling the chair sideways. Grabbing the table, he managed to prevent his tumble, careful now to balance his weight on the rickety seat. Clicking on the mouse pad, he opened the screen that stared back at him. His fingers started tapping on the keyboard, scrolling through the application programs loaded on the laptop. He was halfway through when the slight scrape of a foot against cement warned him that Lyle was behind him. Keeping his hands on the keyboard, he sat still, waiting for the other.


"You followed my instructions, exactly."


"Yes."


He intentionally altered his posture and voice to be non-threatening, part of his plan hinging on Lyle's belief that he was the one in control. The cold muzzle of a gun settled on his neck, reinforcing the danger he knew he would be in. Staying still as commanded, Lyle's hands roamed his body, making sure that he had no hidden weapons or any other unwanted communications equipment. Keeping his gaze lowered, he responded mechanically when Lyle asked him to acknowledge who he was. Only then, did Lyle step away.


"I'm disappointed, Jarod. You should not have left when you did. Your training was progressing so well. Now we will have to start again and I cannot promise that it will be easier this time. You will have to make up for all the anguish that I experienced because of your absence."


He ignored Lyle's threats, instead rising and turning slowly, keeping his balance by leaning one hand on the table.


"Where's J?"


"Ah ah, Jarod." Lyle sneered, "I might consider reuniting you and J in the near future. It all depends on how well you convince the Centre that the information had been planted on my pc."


"How am I supposed to do that? You, of all people know what the Centre is like when it has its bloodhounds on someone's trail. I'm sure Raines or is it daddy, had not forgotten how many times you had switched alliances to benefit your own ambitions."


Jarod ducked, Lyle’s swinging arm failing to connect to his face. Stepping into Lyle’s body, he gave a short jab into the other’s ribs. The blond man grunted in pain, before using his body to tackle Jarod to the ground. The table gave way beneath their bodies, crashing with a loud tearing sound as the rotten wood snapped under their combined weight. Jarod tried to protect his leg, his body still weak from his previous incarceration under Lyle. He fended Lyle’s blows off as best he could, unable to shift the others weight from his body. One vicious blow left his head reeling, his vision fading in and out for a brief second or two. Lyle’s body lifted from his and he shifted onto his side, shaking his head from side to side to get rid of the ringing in his ears. He could hear Lyle walking past him, his breaths loud in the open space of the warehouse. Finally able to focus, he watched as the chairman’s son gave the now defunct laptop a kick.


“That was not a smart move, Jarod. Why is it that for someone with your vast intelligence, that you fail to follow the most basic of instructions.” Circling the pretender, Lyle continued his tirade, “If only you had remembered your place. You are forcing me to hurt you and your brother. You do know that, don’t you?”


Dropping to his haunches, he pushed Jarod’s head back, forcing the other to look at him. Defiant eyes glared back, igniting Lyle’s anger. Turning Jarod onto his stomach, he cruelly snapped handcuffs around Jarod’s wrists. Kicking the crutches out of the way, he made his way behind the old crates he had stacked against the wall earlier. Grabbing the boy, he proceeded to drag the body over to where the other lay.


“What have you done with him, you son of a…”


Lifting Jarod’s upper body from the floor, he backhanded the Pretender more violently than Jarod had prepared for. The blood started to well from the cut to his lip, while Lyle moved to stand behind J, a smirk on his face while he taunted the other.


“I would be careful in the way I address my superiors. Gemini might just experience the consequences of your inability to learn respect, Jarod. And you do remember what I did the last time to make sure you understood that lesson, don‘t you Jarod.”


Nodding his head slowly, Jarod moved into a sitting position.


“I want you to say it, say that you understand, Jarod.”


“I don’t think so,” a voice said from behind Lyle, the sound of a gun being cocked loud in the ensuing stillness. Jarod saw Lyle grimace, before the chairman’s son swung around.
“I wondered when you would be here. You know, I had always had my suspicions regarding your loyalties and it seems that this only confirms it. So, are you and the lab rat lovers?”


Parker smiled, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she looked Lyle up and down. Lowering her weapon slightly, she enjoyed the widening of her brother’s eyes.


“You wouldn’t dare.”


Lifting an eyebrow, she glanced at Jarod asking him if he was all right. Keeping her gun trained on Lyle, she took the risk and gave a longer look at the inert body that lay next to Jarod.


“Uncuff him,” she demanded, “and Lyle,” waiting for him to look her in the eyes, she warned, “this is your one and only warning, try anything and you will find out how a nine fingered eunuch survives in this world.”


Moving behind Jarod, keeping his hands in view, he released the pretender. Rising he stepped away, his eyes glaring daggers at his sister. She stepped closer, eyeing the unresponsive boy again.


“Key, Lyle. Now.”


“Parker, you have to think about this. Why throw away your legacy for the resident lab rat. He is nothing to you, but we are family. Together there is so many things that we’ll be able to do.”


“If I’m so important in your equation, why did you conspire with Alex to kidnap me and hold me in isolation?”


Lyle allowed a brief smile to centre on his face. Taking a step closer, he answered, “Is that what he told you. Why believe a pretender who knows how to spread dissent and lies. I always had your best interest at heart.”


“Really, I’m flattered Lyle. With brotherly love like yours…that is far enough.”


Rising her weapon, they glared at each other over the barrel, the two pretenders momentarily forgotten. Her finger tightened when the familiar sound of helicopter blades invaded the tension in the room, breaking the stare contest in two. Her shot went wide as the knife he had had in his pocket jerked her head sideways in order to avoid the projectile. She saw him disappear through the doorway that led to the other rooms in the warehouse. Helping Jarod drag J behind the crates, she ran to the doorway leading outside. Glancing, she swore before accepting the reality of the Centre helicopter that had landed. Taking note of the sweepers that alighted from the aircraft, she smiled briefly before going out to meet them.


**********


“Sam, take the flank. My idiot brother is in here somewhere. I want him found.” Indicating two others to go with her, they started the slow hunt. She briefly looked in the direction of the boxes lining the one wall, hoping that Jarod and J were safe.


**********


Jarod watched the sweepers and Miss Parker disappear through the door that Lyle had fled through. Taking a small skeleton key out of his plaster, he proceeded to uncuff the boy. Checking for any other less obvious injuries, he noticed the telltale bruising and puncture marks on J's inner arm. Lifting the boy's eyelids, he saw the irises retract. J had been drugged heavily by a sedative and from the looks of it, it will probably be another two or three hours before the boy will wake. Opening the clamshell phone that Parker had left him, he proceeded to dial, leaving a short message on the answering machine.


**********


Her gun led the way into the darkened interior of the debilitated warehouse. Pointing to her left and right, she took the centre doorway, leading into a small packing room. Old crates and boxes littered the floor, the light diffused that came through the painted windows set in the right hand wall. Kicking a small broken crate out of the way, she made her way slowly inwards, aware of all the hiding places in the room. The small scrape to her left had her instantly swing to that side, before Lyle's body violently slammed into her. She hit the wall with a thud, her gun hand losing its grip. Elbowing her brother, she used the breather to lunge for the gun. He swore loudly, grabbing her wrist and twisting it cruelly behind her back. His other hand encircled her throat, pinning her body against the wall.


"Give it up, Parker," he breathed heavily.


She bucked against his body, trying to get some leeway but he only pushed her arm higher, increasing his grip on her neck. Icy fingers ran up and down her spine, and she shuddered when his lips brushed against her cheek. Her face darkened in anger but she had no physical outlet, held immobile by the grip he had on her.


"You know, you really are beautiful when you are angry. If only you could understand that what I did, I did for the Parkers. For us."


"And by giving me to Alex you achieved what?"


His breath was hot on her face and she closed her eyes as he whispered his reasons.

"It was for your protection. I needed you somewhere safe until I could implement my plan. Alex failed to follow instructions as I set them out. But you remedied that when you killed him."


He pushed her from the wall, watching as she fell on the dust-covered floor. Picking up the fallen gun, he kept an eye on her and the door. Looking into his eyes, she started to rise, her pose regal and her voice low as she asked.


"Why go through the farce with Jarod, then? You had him a month before, why wait before you brought him back. I'm sure Raines would have been ecstatic."


Lyle smiled, his eyes cold and distant.


"Timing, Sis. Haven't I told you before - timing is everything and my, should I say, fortunate meeting with Jarod meant that I had to put him on ice for a month. We both know how slippery he is, so I had to make sure that he would stay put. Having a lame pretender was an added bonus and it meant his mobility was greatly reduced making my task so much easier."


"You're insane."


"Psychological assessments are so subjective, don't you think. Besides, if not for your meddling, I would have been in the chairman's seat already and you would have been sitting right next to me."


Parker laughed, a mocking one that increased Lyle's anger.


"Why don't I believe you? You're the most selfish s.o.b I know. ."


Lifting the gun, his finger tightened. He snarled her words into silence, "Be careful, Parker. I'm the one with the gun and I have no compunction of becoming an only child. Be grateful that for the moment I need you."


Glaring at her, he told her to turn around, his eyes hardening when she failed to follow his directive. He gave it a second time, his tone more aggressive and she relented, turning her back on him. Following his directions, she made her way past the boxes stacked against the wall to a small opening in the wall. She had to bend her body to fit in and he pushed her forward into the darkness.


**********


Jarod placed his crutches underneath the co-pilots seat, while his dad made J comfortable in the back. He wiped the sweat from his brow, looking around the empty lot where the helicopter had landed towards where the warehouse stood. He would give her another five minutes and then they would have to leave. They had planned for this, knowing that if she could not make it back to them in time that they would meet up at a byway ten miles up the road.


For one brief moment, there seemed to be an absence of sound and air before Jarod was pushed against the door, the helicopter rocking on its skids. Dust and bits of rock and debris started to rain around them and when he turned, he found the warehouse in flames. Dark clouds of smoke roiled upwards into the blue sky. His eyes watered, his ears ringing from the loud clap of resonance that filled the void.


His dad grabbed him and only then was he aware that he had been on his way back, adrenaline giving strength to his broken leg. Tears mixed with the fine dust that had settled on his face and he slowly became aware of his dad's voice telling him that they have to leave. Turning towards the helicopter, his dad's arm around him they made their way slowly towards the black bird.


"Jarod!"


The cruel voice brought him to a halt. Turning to his left, he saw Parker in Lyle's grip, the gun tight against her body. He felt immense relief to know that she had not been in the warehouse when the building had blown up.


"Lyle, let her go. You have nowhere to go. Its over."


Increasing his headlock, his gun made a track towards where Jarod stood with his father. Lyle smiled coldly, shaking his head in denial.


"It's never over. You owe me Jarod, and I intend to take what's mine."


Jarod could feel his dad move his arm behind him, grabbing the pistol he had tucked into his back. Trying to keep Lyle's attention from what his father was doing, he goaded the other man.


"So, how many times do you think you can play this rise from the dead strategy you keep performing? Why did you blow up the warehouse or was that just another one of the countless mistakes you’ve made?"


Taking a step forward, forcing Parker to move with him, Lyle took aim at Jarod's father.

"I'm not in a good mood, Jarod… Remember Kyle," watching the tightening on Jarod's face," I thought so. Unless you want to experience the same scenario with dad, I suggest you make your way to the helicopter."


Jarod looked at Parker, trying to convey their plan to her, hoping that she would understand. He took a step forward, crumbling on his leg. His stumble and fall act drew Lyle's attention, and Parker managed to jab him with her elbow. Lyle grunted, bending slightly before her right leg jabbed backwards, her stiletto-heel making contact with his foot. Bellowing loudly in pain, Lyle lost his grip on her. Jarod heard the shot, already hopping to his foot while Lyle crumbled to the ground, a red stain spreading over his shirt. Parker helped him into the cockpit, and he started flipping the switches. His dad joined him in the front seat and he could see the black Lincoln cars that were speeding towards them from the road. They lifted off, and the last view he had was of sweepers surrounding the body of Lyle.


He allowed a smile to spread, looking at his dad and then at Parker who had J's head on her lap. He knew that the Centre would still come after them, but for now, everyone he cared about, was safe. And in his world, that was all that mattered.


**********


If you read this far, it means that you might have liked the story. So, send your views and let me know if you want a sequel...and what you thought of the last chap. In any case, thank you for reading my story. ;-)