Jarod could barely contain his excitement. He was minutes away from finally having his whole family together. He grinned at the thought of being with his family. He wasn’t going to be alone anymore; he had a family. His lifelong dream was finally going to come true.

He cruised around the hotel parking lot in his restored ’66 Ford Mustang. He had found the car in a junk yard and had spent a lot of time between Pretends restoring it. Jarod had even taken the monumental risk of renting a storage unit and small studio apartment for the last 2 years. This became Jarod’s refuge between Pretends and the car gleamed from the attention Jarod had paid to it. The bright red paint was waxed and polished regularly and the slightest misfire in the engine drew Jarod’s attention the same way a faltering heartbeat drew a cardiologist’s. Nothing was too good for his baby.

He looked around, but there was no sign that Miss Parker or Lyle were hiding nearby, waiting for the chance to jump him and his family. Hopefully, Jarod had finally lost them. Miss Parker was getting very good at tracking him down before he was ready for her and that was really starting to aggravate him. Maybe his Pretends were becoming predictable, but that didn’t matter now. He was taking time off from his Pretends to devote to his family.

He found a parking spot close to, but not directly in front of, their hotel room and backed in. Backing in, he had found, made leaving quickly a lot easier. There would be no wasted time in backing up, turning around, and then leaving if they needed to escape in a hurry. His grip in the steering wheel tightened for a second before he forced his sweaty hands loose. His heart was pounding. His mother was just feet away and he couldn’t make himself leave the car. All of his insecurities rose up. Would she like him? Was he what she expected? Did she blame him for the destruction of their family? All his answers were 30 feet away. He took a deep breath to try to stop the butterflies in his stomach and left the car.

Seconds later, he was in the room and hugging his father. It felt so good to have those strong arms hugging him. He knew it was silly, but when his dad hugged him, he felt like nothing could ever hurt him. Finally, reluctantly, he let go of his father and looked around the room.

Emily was the next in his arms. He was afraid to hold her too tightly, in case he hurt her. His mind flashed back to when he found her outside her newspaper office just after Lyle had found her. He knew that was over 2 years ago, but she was his baby sister and wanted to protect her from everything. He knew that wasn’t a reasonable goal, but that was his job as her big brother.

Ryan wormed his way into his big brother’s arms. Jarod, his father and his clone had decided together to forget the clone business and just concentrate on being a family. Jarod had come up with the idea of the boy being his younger brother and the boy had finally picked out a name of his own: Ryan Anthony Russell.

The sound of the bathroom door opening drew his attention and there she was. His Mother. He felt his whole body tense and he couldn’t move, not even when his father gave him a gentle shove. He just stood there staring, absolutely paralyzed with fear. What if this was all a dream? If he hugged her, would she disappear? Was the Centre going to disrupt their reunion the way they had in Boston? He was finally able to take a step towards her and that broke his paralysis. Her arms opened wide and he ran into them. And, finally, after a lifetime apart, her arms were holding him tight to her. And, for the first time in a very, very long time, the Centre was now the furthest thing from his mind.

Dinner that night was better than Jarod could have ever dreamed. The last time he had sat down to a family dinner was the night he was kidnapped. He had seen how families got together on the television and he had read about it in the psychology books Sydney had assigned to him as a child, but his brilliant mind had been unable picture himself sitting in the scene. But now he was sitting in a restaurant with his family. He sat next to his mother with Ryan on the other side of her. Emily and his father completed the family circle as they laughed and dined together. By unspoken consent, the Centre, Kyle, and the time apart were never brought up. Even the way Jarod and Ryan attacked their ice cream desserts had the family laughing as if this were an everyday occurrence.

Later that night, while the rest of his family slept, Jarod went over the day. He was having a hard time believing that this whole day had really happened. But his sister’s soft snores, echoed by those of the sleeping figure of his brother on the rollaway bed, went a long way into convincing him. And Jarod savored over and over the joy of once again being tucked into bed by his mother and the new feelings that followed that joy. Feelings of love and security, of home and childhood. Feelings that Jarod didn’t know he knew. Life just couldn’t get any better. And that feeling was starting to worry him.

Jarod woke early the next morning. He had gotten his usual nights sleep; a sleep filled with nightmare images from his past that left him trembling and sweaty. Past SIMs and dead eyes had populated his dreams, but that was nothing new for him and he knew how to deal with the memories.

He looked over at the sleeping figure in the bed next to his. Emily had one pillow tucked under her chin and the other scrunched up against the headboard just barely cushioning her head. Jarod shook his head in wonder. He couldn’t imagine voluntarily sleeping in a more uncomfortable position, but, since she growled at him when he tried to ease the pillow back down, he guessed she was content.

Next, his attention was drawn to the sprawled body of his sleeping younger brother. Jarod grinned, but a small twinge of jealousy ran through him. He couldn’t remember ever being safe enough to sleep like that. The younger man was on his back with one leg hanging off the side of the bed. Both arms were outstretched, as if welcoming someone and a small smile graced his face. Jarod picked up the blanket that Ryan had kicked to the floor and recovered him before heading towards his laptop.

A few hours later, the whole family was up. Jarod had checked on the Centre’s activities, nothing new happening there according to Angelo, Miss Parker and Co. were still unaware of his latest lair ,but Mr. Broots should be changing that soon, and Lyle was being his normal self. So, for now, Jarod felt free to enjoy the newness of being with his very own family.

“Jarod, I need you to go the store with your father, please,” Margaret called out. “We need some milk, cereal, bowls, spoons, and maybe some breakfast rolls. Maybe some fresh fruit, too. Oh, and make it a healthy cereal. Some granola or oatmeal, maybe, none of that sugar laden stuff they advertise on television.” She ordered in a no-nonsense, “I know best because I am the Mother,” voice.

Jarod grimaced. He had thirty-three years of healthy eating crammed down his throat by the Centre and he really enjoyed the sugary stuff he ate now. Giving it up, even for his mother,

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just grab some stuff from McDonalds, Mom?” he asked hesitantly.

“Easier, yes. Healthier, no. And, after seeing the way the men in this family have been eating; nutritious items are on the menu for quite a while. No, go to the store so we can all eat at a reasonable time.”

And with that, Margaret shooed her two oldest men out of the hotel.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Breakfast was finally eaten, showers taken, and the rooms straightened up. Margaret conceded that they didn’t need to make the bed since the maid was coming, but she did insist that they each at least pull the blankets up and place the pillows back on the bed. Jarod watched in amusement as Ryan lip-synced to Margaret’s “Just because we live on the run, doesn’t mean that we must live like heathens” remark. From everyone’s reaction, it was something she said quite often. Jarod couldn’t help smiling as he thought that maybe he too would soon be tired of hearing his mother repeating things.

That afternoon, Margaret told Charles to take the younger two siblings out for a while. She wanted some private time with her oldest child. Jarod shivered; there was something ominous about how she said that. She had the same tone in her voice that Jarod could remember hearing in Sydney’s voice when he was saying something Jarod would not want to hear. A tone of voice that said “this is gonna hurt, but that’s the way it is”.

“Jarod, I know you don’t like to talk about what happened to you in that horrible place and I can understand that, really, I can. But I do want to know what your life was like. How you were treated, how Kyle was treated. Your father told me about Sydney, I think he said the name was, but what about friends and social activities?”

“Mom, that part of my life is over. We don’t need to talk about it. I’m just glad to be back with my family.”

He grinned at her, trying to distract her, but the grin faded when he realized that she was determined to hear about his past. He swallowed and hoped that she didn’t want the in-depth details, details that filled his dreams and that he didn’t want to fill hers.

“Sydney was the person who trained me. He led the SIMs, taught me what I needed for the SIMs, and tried to protect me from some of the other… uhhmm, scientists there. Mrs. Parker helped for a while, but she died a long time ago.” He looked up at his mother, his brown eyes showing how badly that loss had affected him. “I only meet her a handful of times, but she would bring her daughter and let us play together. That all stopped after her death. Mr. Parker sent his daughter overseas to boarding school and then it was just Sydney and I and our work.”

Jarod looked up at his mother to see if she was satisfied with his explanation, but she gestured for him to continue. He thought about some of stunts Parker had bullied him into and decided to share those with his mom. Hopefully, it would keep her from digging into how the Centre used him.

“I had a couple of friends while growing up, but we had to sneak around to see each other. Miss Parker was probably my very best friend and Angelo, too, when he could sneak away from wherever Raines had him stashed. Miss Parker was the chief troublemaker of the three of us, but Sydney protected all of us from the wrath from above.”

Jarod couldn’t help smiling as he remembered some of the trouble the trio had gotten into as youngsters. He knew now that Sydney had covered for them multiple times and he had never discouraged them from their activities. Oh, he had made comments about the risks involved in doing this or going there, but he had never tried to demand their obedience the way the Tower had.

Jarod thought back to how he blamed Sydney for the Centre’s misuses of his SIM and how Sydney had done his best to see that Jarod had gotten to play with his friends and he knew that he owed his old friend a huge apology. ‘Maybe that is why he never wanted to be my father,’ Jarod thought to himself, ‘he was protecting himself from me.’

“What about Kyle, Jarod? You haven’t mentioned Kyle even once. Surely, you protected him. That’s your job as his older brother.”

“I didn’t see Kyle until I was about 10, 11 years old. Somewhere around there, I guess. Time doesn’t have any meaning inside the Centre. The area they kept me in was 100’s of feet underground and I was never allowed outside, so there was no way to keep track of the time. No TVs, no radios, or holidays; if they wanted me working the lights were on, if they wanted me to sleep, then the lights were off. Even the meals were the same and there was no difference between what was served for breakfast and what was served for dinner.”

Jarod swallowed, he had the feeling his mother was not going to like what he had to say next.

“When we finally did meet, we didn’t know we were brothers. Your friend Harriet told us just before you and I saw each other in Boston. And even in the Centre, we only worked together a couple of times. We did find out that our cells were close together, but they separated us when they figured out we were communicating with each other.”

He saw that she didn’t understand. How could she? That anyone could treat another human being the way the Centre did was beyond cruel.

“Mom, you have to understand what it was like in there. We were kept isolated from everyone and everything except our work. Even my first meeting with Miss Parker was part of a SIM. And everything about our lives before the Centre was wiped from our minds.”

Jarod could see that his mother was not happy with him, but she didn’t understand that he had absolutely no control over things that happened in the Centre. He did what he was told or else. When Sydney was there, the “or else” had options. But when Sydney was gone, Jarod was truly at the mercy of some merciless people. He shivered as he remembered some of the punishments Raines had authorized.

“What do you mean, your life before the Centre was ‘wiped’? How can they make you forget something as important as your family?”

Jarod could see that his mother was puzzled by his explanations, but he didn’t know how to explain it to someone who had not lived within it’s walls. Even he didn’t understand how or why things happened the way they did in there. And Jarod was determined that his mother would never see his DSAs. Never.

“I’m not exactly sure what they did, Mom. But the whole time I was in the Centre, I knew I had a family, I just couldn’t remember what it was like. I would draw pictures of you and Dad, I would him and sing the nursery rhyme you taught me. I tried to do things that would make you proud of me. But I never knew I had a brother.”

“You forgot about us,” Margaret stated in a monotone, hurt beyond words that her beloved baby boy would forget about her. Her defenses rose and she attacked back without thinking; she just wanted to hurt Jarod as badly as she was hurting. “Let me guess, Sydney became ‘daddy’ for you.”

Jarod looked down at his feet with tears in his eyes. That was exactly what had happened, but he had a feeling that if he admitted it all hell would break loose. He knew he deserved her anger; he should have done more, should have escaped earlier.

“I thought I was at a special school. Remember, you said...” Jarod couldn’t continue. The tears in his eyes were streaming down the back of his throat, making him swallow..

“And while your at it, explain to me how Kyle died in your arms. You were both free from the Centre. You just admitted you knew his was your brother by the time he died. But he still died and you didn’t protect him.”

“I thought he had died in the van explosion just before Boston. Then he showed up in Dry River, Arizona. Saved me from Lyle and then we worked together to save the sheriff’s pregnant wife. He felt so good about himself then, Mom. He felt like a hero. But then Lyle showed up again and shot at me. Kyle jumped in front of me. I couldn’t stop him. Please, Mom, believe me. I never wanted Kyle hurt. I wanted to show him all the good in the world.”

Margaret knew it wasn’t right to blame Jarod, but emotions are rarely about what is right. She got up from the table and left the hotel room without saying another word to Jarod. Jarod just put his head down and sobbed.

Jarod’s crying spell finally slowed down and he was able to catch his breath. He left the table in his parents’ room and wandered back into the room he shared with his siblings, wondering what to do now. Was he supposed to leave? Was he supposed to wait until the family got back to say goodbye? The only thing he knew for sure was that all his hopes and dreams of being part of a warm and loving family were shattered. His mother blamed him for the destruction of her family. She hated him and he didn’t blame her. It was his fault the Centre had chased his family. It was his fault Kyle was killed. His mother was just the only one to admit it.

Jarod curled up in a fetal position between the corner of the room and the chest of drawers. He felt safe there. He now had three “walls” surrounding him and anyone come at him would have to come from the front. He took a long, stuttering breath and slowly relaxed. The room was still and the confrontation with his mother had drained him. His eyes slowly closed and he drifted off to an uneasy sleep filled with nightmare images of his mother blaming him, of Kyle dying in his arms, and of all the faceless people killed because of the things he had SIMmed.

Some time later, Jarod was jarred away by his father calling his name. Jarod tried to burrow deeper into the corner, hoping to protect himself from the harsh words he was sure were coming his way. He was almost wishing he was back in the Centre where he knew the rules and the consequences of breaking the rules when a gentle hand started rubbing his back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to his father, his eyes still tightly closed. “I didn’t mean to be bad.”

“Jarod, look at me,” he heard his father say gently, but firmly.

Jarod’s only response was to burrow even deeper into the corner.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me, too. Please.”

“I don’t hate you. I promise. Come on; open your eyes for me. Please, Jarod, look at me.”

The Major could see that Jarod was finally calming down. He kept rubbing his oldest son’s back as he continued urging Jarod to look up. His patience was finally rewarded when Jarod raised his head and looked at his father with tear-filled eyes.

“She said it was all my fault. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Sshhh, it’s OK. Take a deep breath for me. That’s a boy. Take another one. Good.”

The Major waited a minute for Jarod to gain his composure back and then helped him up from the corner.

“OK, on the bed now. That’s it. Sit down next to your sister. Now, what was your fault?”

“Everything. Breaking up our family, Kyle’s death. The family having to live on the run.”

Charles could hear the guilt in his son’s voice. Even more concerning to the Major was the depression he could see building in Jarod. From what Sydney had told him during that car ride to the airport, Jarod had depended on his hopes of being reunited with his family to survive the Centre’s horrors. Now that base was teetering and the Major vowed to do whatever was needed to protect his son.

The sound of Margaret entering the next room had Jarod shaking again. He curled up into a ball and started saying, “I’m sorry” over and over. The presence of his brother and sister sitting next to him barely registered. The Major motioned to Ryan and Emily to stay with their brother as he headed into the other room to talk to Margaret.

“What on earth did you and Jarod talk about, Margaret? He’s in the other room, practically catatonic and mumbling something about it all being his fault.”

“He let Kyle be killed! My poor baby, he was supposed to be protected by his big brother, but, no, Jarod lets him get killed.”

“The Centre killed Kyle, not Jarod. You can’t blame that poor boy for that! The Centre is to blame for all our troubles. For our separation, for Emily being raised only by you and for both our boys being kidnapped and raised in that hellhole. The only good thing to come from the Centre is Ryan!”

“He forgot about us! He let that Sydney person become his father!”

“God, Margaret, he was four years old when he was taken! Besides, he may have forgotten our faces, but not that he had parents out here. Sydney, who is a very nice man, says the Centre lied to both of them and said that we were killed in a plane crash.”

“Stop it, please. Don’t fight”

The Major and Margaret both looked over at doorway between the rooms. Jarod stood there, tears running down his face.

“Please, don’t fight because of me. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be here. I’ll go, just, please stop fighting.”

Jarod spun back into the bedroom and grabbed his stuff. He looked at his sister and brother, whispered “I’m sorry”, and bolted for the exterior door, Emily’s “Jarod!” echoing in his head. He jumped into his Mustang and raced out of the parking lot, missing the sight of his father trying to stop him.

Jarod drove non-stop for a couple of days, ignoring the phone calls from his father and trying to out-race his mother’s words. But, the sound of “it’s all your fault” couldn’t be ignored. No matter how far he drove or how fast he went, the words reverberated in his mind. He knew that she was right; he was to blame for all the misfortunes that his family had suffered through the years.

His erratic driving finally forced him to pull into a cheap motel for a night’s sleep. He didn’t want to be responsible for someone else being injured because of him. He checked into his room and tried to get some sleep, but, without the road distractions, the voice berating him was louder. He tried drowning out the voice by taking a shower, but that didn’t work. He thought about drinking to stop the voice, but he could hear Parker calling him a hypocrite and he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. He finally grabbed his cell phone, hoping Sydney would be able to help him.

“This is Sydney.”

Sydney’s voice was barely audible. Jarod could hear a jumble of voices in the background, practically drowning out Sydney.

“Sydney? Where are you?”

“Jarod, it’s good to hear from you, it’s been too long.”

“What’s going on? Are you at the Centre?”

“It’s Sunday, Jarod, I’m at home. Michele and the others decided to surprise me with a birthday party.”

“Today’s your birthday?”

Jarod wondered why Sydney had never shared that little bit of information with him before. Jarod had thought about finding out, to send him a gift as he did so many times to Parker, but for some reason, he believed Sydney deserved more privacy. But before Jarod could question Sydney any further, he heard a voice in the background, interrupting Jarod’s comment.

“Dr. Sydney, Miss Parker says the steaks are done and it’s time to eat.”

“Was that Debbie Broots?” Jarod asked, curiously.

“Yes, the whole family is here. I…,” this time Sydney was interrupted.

“Freud, if that’s the labrat, tell him to climb back into his cage for the night and come eat. We are all waiting for you.”

“Jarod, I have to go, can you call back in a little while? Jarod? Jarod, are you there?”

Jarod had snapped the phone closed before Miss Parker had finished speaking, his heart now completely shattered.

Sydney considered Parker and Broots as part of his family, but not Jarod. Sydney had raised Jarod and been part of his daily life for over thirty years, but didn’t feel Jarod was worthy of his love. But it only took a handful of years for Parker to worm her way into Sydney’s heart. Jarod had reunited Sydney with Michele and told him about Nicholas, but his reward for those good deeds was to be pushed even further way from Sydney’s love.

He dropped to his knees; the voice in his head was now louder than ever. A second voice soon joined in on the chorus.

“It’s all your fault.”

“The whole family is here.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“The whole family is here.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“The whole family is here.”

Jarod starting rocking back and forth, holding his head in anguish, one thing becoming perfectly clear for him. He was alone.

“It’s been almost seven weeks since we found his last lair, Broots,” Miss Parker hissed in the nervous technician’s ear. “Where is he?!”

Broots sank lower in his chair as the sound of the stilettos pacing behind him. His fingertips were getting blisters from all the typing he had been doing lately, but there was no sign of the missing Pretender. He had created a program that scanned all the newspapers, magazines, e-magazine, and databases possible, searching for key words and for Jarod’s name. Nothing had shown up there. He had an ongoing program searching all the hospital and police databases, checking all the Jarods and John Does, in case something serious had happened. Nothing there, either. A smack on his head drew his attention back to the work at hand.

“Parker, please. He is doing the best he can,” Sydney tried to interject on his friend’s behalf. That worked, just not in the way that had Sydney hoped. He was now the target of Miss Parker’s wrath.

“I better not find out that you have been talking to the labrat lately without telling me, Freud.”

Parker glared at Sydney, but found that, as usual, her glare was completely ineffective with the aging shrink. She really despised the fact that he had watched her grow up, more so at times like this. She could make the bravest sweeper cower in a corner with the barest hint of temper, but she got the distinct impression Sydney was privately laughing at her when she tried the glare on him.

‘You just couldn’t intimidate someone who used to discipline you as a child,’ she thought to herself, ruefully.

“I haven’t talked to him since my birthday party, Parker.” A look of concern appeared and just a quickly disappeared from his face. Parker knew that was as much emotion as he dared show about Jarod while inside the building.

Miss Parker started to answer, but then her eyes narrowed as she glared over Sydney’s shoulder. He turned and watched as Lyle stormed into the room and threw himself into an unoccupied chair. Miss Parker took in his appearance and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in his direction. Lyle’s tie was askew, his hair was mussed, and dark shadows were starting to form under his eyes. All in all, he looked like hell and Miss Parker couldn’t be happier.

“What’s up, Lyle? Lose your car again?” she asked mischievously, the smirk on her face letting him know that his difficulties were her joys.

“I wish that was all that was wrong,” he responded unhappily, “but this is a little more serious.”

He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and rubbed at his eyes.

“Dad wants us in his office in twenty minutes. No need to bring your pets, this is a Parker matter.”

Miss Parker raised her eyebrow again at that news. The last time she was invited to the Chairman’s office for a Parker matter, her father announced his intention of shipping her off to boarding school. Something told her that this meeting with Raines would not be as pleasant.

“Fine, twenty minutes. I’ll be there.” She waited a second for him to leave, but started to grow almost concerned when he didn’t even move from the chair. “Was there something else you wanted, Lyle?”

“Any clues to the Labrat’s location? This would really be an excellent time for his return. I would even leave him alone, if you could get him working again.”

Parker and Sydney exchanged glances. Something was seriously wrong if Lyle was willing to give up his playtime voluntarily. They both watched as Lyle heaved himself up and out of the chair and wandered out of the room.

“Man, that was weird,” Broots commented in a low whisper and both Miss Parker and Sydney had to agree.

Twenty minutes later, Miss Parker strolled into the Chairman’s office unannounced. Two steps into the room and she was wishing she had waited for the secretary to announce her. Lyle, the creep, had failed to warn her that there would be more than just the three of them for this meeting. All his talk about Parker matters and of not bringing her ‘pets’ was just that, talk. Ramos, The Triumvirate Rep was glaring at Raines, the Chief Financial Officer, a thin, nattily dressed man named Simmonds, was shuffling through various files at the desk, and Raines was drumming his fingers, glaring at Lyle who was staring back. Parker’s entrance broke the stalemate between the two men and drew the attention of the Rep and the CFO.

“You’re late,” Raines snarled to her.

“Bite me. Lyle told me twenty minutes, I’m here in exactly twenty minutes. You don’t like it, blame Lyle. Hell, blame him anyway, I don’t care either way.”

“Enough!” The Zulu’s voice cut through the rising tension like a scalpel. It was such a deep and authoritative voice, that the listener completely overlooked the fact that the body it erupted from was barely five foot tall. Parker shivered; she had never witnessed such unspoken menace in her life.

“Now that Miss Parker has consented to join us, we will begin this meeting. You will all sit and remain silent unless directly asked a question. Am I understood?”

Parker quietly took as seat, but couldn’t help the amused smirk that graced her mouth as she watched Raines get unceremoniously booted from his own chair. Lyle sat at the opposite end of the desk from Parker with Simmonds between them. All the attention was on the black man from Africa.

“It has come to our attention that the Centre is failing their financial obligations to the Triumvirate. Our investigations have shown that the Centre is unable to renegotiate new contracts with long-time clients. Is this correct, Raines?”

“Well, … Lyle is the one … who … had been conducting … the negotiations.”

“That is not the question you were asked. Need I repeat it?”

Raines and Lyle exchanged heated glances before Raines hesitantly answered .

“Yes, there … have been ... some lost contracts ... but nothing ... we … can’t replace.”

“And how are you going to recoup the lost revenue?”

“Lyle is … actively … pursuing new … clients.”

“And how many of these new clients have signed and delivered the deposits?” Ramos drummed his fingers on the desktop, in a move designed to signify his impatience with Raines and Lyle.

Lyle took a deep breath and silently cursed Raines for putting him on the spot.

“I um, I have several possibilities in the works right now.”

Ramos hit the desk in front of his with one tightly clenched fist.

“We are not interested in possibilities, only in the monies deposited from the clients. Why have you been unable to produce new clients?” The look on the Zulu’s face hinted that he knew the truth and dared Lyle to lie anyway.

Lyle’s temper was already short due to his lack of sleep over the last month and being questioned in this way lit the extremely short fuse. He took another deep breath and tried to calm himself before he ended up in the Renewal Wing.

“I have had several contracts fall through at the last minute. No explanations were given as to why they weren’t signing with us. I just don’t understand it.”

The last statement was made almost too softly to be heard and the puzzlement the man was feeling was obvious. Parker looked over at Lyle in amazement. She didn’t think Lyle would ever admit to not understanding something. She was almost starting to enjoy herself in this meeting; she was hearing information that she just knew Raines would rather she never hear. But part of her was wondering when her turn on Ramos’s chopping block was coming. She didn’t have long to wait, unfortunately.

“Humph. Miss Parker, our property, the Pretender and his clone, have been allowed outside of the Centre’s controls for far too long. Why have you not retrieved him as you were ordered?”

The phrasing and the intent behind the question staggered Miss Parker for a moment. This man really did think of Jarod as nothing more than property or even a disobedient puppy and made it seem as if the Centre had walked him outside and let go of his leash, expecting him to come back to heel when called. She knew she was going to have rein in her normal temper or she would be the next to feel the wrath of the Triumvirate.

“There has been no sign of the Pretender in approximately seven weeks. His last lair was designed to mislead us and we have been unable to pick up his trail from there. The last word on Gemini was that he was with Major Charles and they have both been under our radar for years now.” The tone was respectful, but inwardly, Parker was about jumping for joy. She didn’t want the Triumvirate to get their hands on Jarod, not after listening to how Ramos was talking about him, and she got the distinct impression that was the Triumvirate’s goal. If anyone got to torment Jarod after his return to the Centre, it would be her.

Ramos looked over at Miss Parker, as if waiting for her to continue. Instead, she just looked back at him. Not with an attitude, nor a temper; just a flat ‘I’m finished’ looked that dared him to find fault with it. Ramos waited for a comment from anyone else, then gave a nod.

“Very well, we obviously have information that you do not. The Pretender is the reason you are losing contracts. He has been intimidating both current and potential client into not signing their contracts. We have been unable to determine the exact method of intimidation, but he is now endangering Triumvirate contracts. This will not be allowed to continue. The Pretender is to be recovered and returned to the Centre at all costs and quickly. There will be no other excuses allowed. Is this understood?”

Raines and Lyle were quite vocal in their agreement to Ramos’s conditions. They both knew that their very lives could be on the line if they failed to deliver. Parker, on the other hand, gave one short, quick nod and met the African’s eyes directly. She silently watched as he left the room, waited a second to see if Raines had anything to say, and then she left the office. She couldn’t wait to get back down to talk to Sydney and Broots.

Jarod silently slipped back into the forest. The second phase on the Centre’s downfall was now in motion. The economic collapse was well in hand, both in the US and in Africa. Now it was time for a more personal attack on those who had ruined his life.

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Sydney was worried; two months with no word from Jarod and strange rumors floating around about his activities. Last week Parker had come back from a meeting both gleeful and concerned. Sydney could not remember ever seeing her in such a state before. And she wouldn’t say anything until Broots, Sydney and herself were well away from the Centre. Even a trip to the hydroponics labs was considered to close to the Centre. And after hearing all about the meeting and her impression of Ramos, Sydney found he totally agreed with her sentiment. Jarod was walking a dangerous line and Sydney had no way of warning him.

Sydney thought back to the last conversation he had with Jarod. The surprise party the others had thrown for him was topped by the phone call from Jarod. Unfortunately, the meal had cut the conversation short and Jarod had never called back. It had been nice having his whole ‘family’ gathered together, even if one member was only there by phone.

A knock at his front door interrupted Sydney’s musings. He glanced over at the clock and made a mental bet with himself. The only one who would knock at his door at 10:45 on a Saturday morning was Gregory, the neighborhood paper route boy. He grabbed his wallet and opened the door. Sure enough, the ten-year-old stood there, smiling his gap-tooth grin.

“Morning, Dr. Sydney.”

“Good morning, Gregory. How are you today?” Sydney was fond of his paper route boy and that fondness showed in his voice.

“Doing good. Mom says to tell you thanks for the idea for the science fair project. She was totally out of ideas. Didn’t win a prize, though. Dad said I probably didn’t listen to you enough. But they still took me out to celebrate actually entering this year.” The green eyes staring up at Sydney sparkled with a joy that was almost painful to witness.

“Got your bill here. Oh and some guy down the street asked me to give you this.”

Sydney handed the young boy the $20 bill he had ready and accepted both envelope and the newspaper with a puzzled thank you. He absently closed the door as Gregory jumped back on his bicycle and raced back down the walkway. Sydney quickly tore open the envelope, hoping that it was a letter from Jarod. His hopes were smashed, though, as a quick glance revealed unfamiliar handwriting.

‘Sydney, we need to talk about Jarod. Can you meet me at the Waterside Café in 15 minutes? It’s important. Major Charles.

Sydney didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his keys and started towards the front door. But then his brain sounded an alert and he knew that rushing off would alert any sweepers watching his house that something was up. He knew that he had to act as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. He calmed down a little and strolled out the front door, tucking his newspaper under his arm. He hoped that he looked like someone heading out for a weekend brunch; an activity that Sydney participated in whenever he could.

Seventeen minutes later, Sydney pulled into the café’s parking lot. He frequently enjoyed the meals here and knew that very few, if any, Centre employees ventured this far from town on Saturday mornings. He was approaching the double entry doors when he caught sight of the Major. The other man waved once at Sydney from the back corner of the building and then popped back behind the wall. Seconds later, a black SUV with tinted windows spun around the building and stopped next to Sydney.

“Quick, get in,” Sydney heard from the dark interior. He had barely buckled his seatbelt when the car took off. He looked over at the Major and started to ask a question, but the intense look on the other man’s face stopped him. Silence filled the air until, some ten minutes later, they stopped in the parking lot of a local park.

“Has something happened to Jarod, Major? I haven’t heard from him in months.”

The drawn look on the driver’s face got deeper.

“Months ago. Two months ago? Oh God.” The Major’s last sentence was a plea for help, uttered almost too softly to be heard.

Sydney watched as the blood drained from the Major’s face. Something was seriously wrong, he was sure of it.

“What happened two months ago, Major? Where’s Jarod?” Sydney’s voice the anxiety that he was feeling for his wayward protégé..

The major leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. His face twisted into an expression of pure anguish, a look Sydney had seen on Jarod’s face before.

“I found Margaret about two months ago, Sydney, and was finally able to contact Jarod. Their reunion was something I had been dreaming about for years and it was everything that I could have hoped for. Jarod couldn’t take his eyes off his mother for the entire evening. And the next morning was almost funny. Watching Jarod facing his mother about proper breakfast foods was a sight to treasure. But, then ...”

Sydney waited for the major to continue, but his heart was starting to pound. He knew that whatever had upset Jarod was coming next.

“But, then,” he took a deep breath, “Margaret had some personal time with Jarod. I took Emily and Ryan out for a while and when we came back, I found Jarod huddled in a corner of his room. He was practically catatonic, Sydney, because Margaret had blamed him for everything that had happened. The kidnappings, the family being on the run, even for Kyle’s death!”

He took another deep breath and wiped away the tears that were streaming down his face.

“He heard Margaret and me arguing about it and he begged us to stop. Then he took off. He won’t answer my calls and my emails are being bounced back. Please, Sydney, you know my son better than I do, tell me how to find my boy. Please.” The fact that the Major was asking Sydney for help showed the true desperation the other man was feeling. The Major considered Sydney as one of the Centre’s lackeys who stole his son from him all those years ago and Sydney would bet his last dollar that the Major truly hated asking him for help.

Sydney had to swallow several times to remove the lump in his throat. All of Jarod’s fears had come true and, when he had called for help, Sydney hadn’t caught on. He forced himself steady and answered the Major.

“He called me about two months ago. Some of my friends and family had thrown a surprise birthday for me and Jarod called just as we were getting ready to eat. He hasn’t called back since. But,” this time is was Sydney’s turn to take a deep breath, “last week Miss Parker was forced to attend a meeting in the Tower. The Triumvirate is blaming Jarod for a series of lost clients and they want him back immediately.”

Both men were silent for a few minutes; each thinking about the son they had in common. Sydney finally reached a decision that he knew was long overdue.

“I’ll help you, Major. We need to find Jarod and stop him before the Centre finds him.”

Jarod’s biological father eyed the man who had raised his son and wondered if he could trust him. But there was something in Sydney’s eye that told the Major that Sydney was finally willing to fight for Jarod. He held his right hand out.

“The name is Charles.” And with that, Sydney knew that the Major had forgiven him; at least enough for them to work together to save Jarod.


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Miss Parker eyed the FedEx package that Broots had just placed on her desk with trepidation. She knew it was from the rat-boy, she just knew it, and she really didn’t want to open it. The little hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up and that meant trouble was approaching. And the trouble was tied in with whatever was in the package. She slowly tore the seal off and slid the single sheet of paper out of the envelope. She looked over at Broots and Sydney and then they all looked down at the one word written on the paper: BOOM!

Sheer terror started to build inside Parker, but she couldn’t figure out who she was scared for. She didn’t think that the PEZ-head would hurt her, but did that mean that someone else wouldn’t. Or was it just one of his cryptic warning about the Centre in general? She banished the terror down deep inside where she buried all her unwelcome emotions and looked over at Sydney.

“Well, Freud, what does it mean?”

“I can answer that, Sis.”

Lyle’s stood just inside the door to her office, his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

“I guess you haven’t heard the news then. Raines’ house exploded last night. Happened just as he was pulling up the drive. Official explanation is a gas leak, but Raines and Ramos are blaming the labrat. But then, you wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you.”

“Back off, little brother,” Parker snarled back at Lyle. “If I wanted that walking ghoul dead, he would be face down somewhere unpleasant instead of upstairs in his office.”

“What makes you think Jarod has something to do with this, Lyle?” Sydney calmly broke into the twin’s staring match.

“Willie says he saw a black jacketed figure disappearing into the woods right after the explosion.”

“If it was Franken-rat, Willie wouldn’t have seen anything, so forgive me if I have trouble believing him. Now, I have work to do, so don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out,” Parker informed Lyle in tones that stated he was an idiot for not knowing that without being told.

Lyle glared at the other three people in the office before storming out of the room. Sydney strolled over to the still open door, looked up and down the corridor, and slowly closed the door. He leaned against the hard wood and pushed his hands deep inside his pockets. Years of experience had taught him how to remain expressionless and he used that skill now.

“So, tell me, Freud, has your little pet declared war on the Centre?”