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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the characters, but I hope nobody minds me borrowing them for a little while. Nor do I own the rights to the song “Exit” by U2, from whom I also borrowed a little bit.
Entropy
11:30pm
Jarod’s Hotel Room
Northern California
The man entered the non-descript room and sighed. Why is it that all hotel rooms are the same? It didn’t seem to matter to him whether it was expensive and luxurious, or cheap and roach infested…. At the end of the day they were always the same. Impersonal and uncaring. He would leave here tomorrow, and it would be as if he had never even been there at all.
He flipped the light switch and threw his bag on the bed. A shower is what he needed. As he headed to the small bathroom, he could feel the beginnings of a tension headache making itself known. Hopefully the hot water would be enough to send it on its way before it took hold. He almost ripped off the suit and tie that he was wearing, how he hated the suits that he was often forced to wear in many of his pretends. He always felt the tie was suffocating him, and the suits conjured up nasty associations with sweepers. He sighed heavily and stepped into the stream of hot water and allowed himself to relax. And for a few brief minutes, he forgot that he had any cares in the world, relishing the feel of the water on his skin, he closed his eyes, rested his head against the tiles and stayed like that until the headache was gone.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and perched himself at the small table. He looked at the silver case, hesitated a moment, but didn’t open it. It was late, and he was tired, but the thought of sleep held little invitation, it was rare that he found respite there. Instead, he opened his red notebook and scanned the contents. He would buy tomorrow morning’s paper, cut out the relevant article, and this little odyssey would be finished. Time to move on. The Pretend had been fairly simple, and it had all worked out in the end, he supposed, but he had this vague feeling of ….. what?….. too little, too late? He knew that all he could do sometimes was just try to pick up the pieces, help put back together shattered lives as best he could. But it somehow just didn’t seem enough. No, that wasn’t strictly true. It just never seemed enough recently. He did not have superpowers after all, he could not foresee bad things happening. Sydney had told him, on more than one occasion, that he could not save everybody.
He stood up rapidly, knocking the chair askew, and started pacing the small room. This line of thinking was going nowhere. It was not like him to be this morbid. He desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone, her. He was so very tired of being alone. Every where he went he carried his loneliness with him, like a beaten up but comfortable old leather jacket. But he did not reach for his phone, instead his mind turned to the trail of breadcrumbs he planned to leave. He needed to get out this mind-slump, and this had always been his favourite part. His mind loved the details, the puzzle and he would leave just enough clues to tantalize them, keep them busy long enough to ensure that he was safe, give him some breathing room. He knew that this game was dangerous, but it kept them playing by his rules to a certain degree. It gave them a certain level of predicability, and him a certain level of control. Not much, but perhaps enough. Thinking back over the past 6 or so years, it had served him well. Yes, they had caught up to him a few times, but for the most part, he had eluded them. He shuddered as he shook off the memory of the time just after Donoterase, his father, the boy….
The boy, Gem his father was calling him now, was never far from his thoughts. He still had not come to terms with his brother, twin, son? His feelings were so mixed. White-hot hatred for the people who created him and would have kept him prisoner his entire life, to be used and exploited. Tenderness, protectiveness and a fierce desire to shield him, to give the boy the life that they both should have had. Yet at the same time, he was a little afraid of him, of himself he supposed. It was crazy, and his desire to talk to Sydney about it was almost overwhelming sometimes. It dismayed Jarod, this need to talk to Sydney, rather than his father. Sydney would understand in ways that the Major never could. Another thing that The Centre had stolen from him, he thought bitterly. It had been many months since he had called Sydney, but he buried the urge, deep where fears that are not understood, are never allowed out. He supposed that it was ironic, the one benefit that his life on the run had afforded him. The luxury of avoiding having to deal with it. This self-imposed separation kept them safe. Well, safer. He didn’t know how he felt about the boy… about Gem , and that bothered him greatly. He was not used to being this vulnerable to things that he didn’t understand. Everything else always came so easily, so naturally and his psyche just did not know how to deal with something that he did not know how to deal with. But the one thing he did know was that his father would love Gem and pour on him all the love that he had been unable to give Jarod. And this eased his guilt somewhat. The best gift Jarod could give was to stay away, not to threaten what little security and stability the Major could give him. He was damned sure that he would never allow The Centre to get their filthy hands on either of them ever again. He would die before he allowed that to happen.
He took another look at the DSAs and decided he just wasn’t up for another stroll down memory lane, perhaps sleep would come after all. He had barely slept over the last few days and he could feel the fatigue to the core of his being. During the Pretends, he found that there was usually too much to do, and he was way too wired to rest, but the Pretend was over now and his body was demanding some respite. Finally weariness overcame him and he sunk down onto the bed and crawled under the covers and his last thought before an uneasy sleep claimed him, as always, was of his mother.
1:00am
The Centre Tech Room
Blue Cove Delaware
Broots was immensely pleased with himself. He was tweaking a new program that he had been working on. He was so engrossed in his work, he didn’t even realise the lateness of the hour. Debbie was at a friends for a sleepover, and he was anxious to see if his new program would work. If he was successful, it would mean that the computer searches that were constantly looking for hits on “Jarod” would be far more efficient. Mr Raines, Mr Lyle, even Miss Parker just didn’t understand that you don’t just type in the word Jarod, and poof, two minutes later the computer obediently spat out where their errant Pretender might be. Everybody wants everything yesterday. It wasn’t as if he really wanted the man caught, he just wanted everybody off his case. Also, he found that the challenge of the chase and the lure of the technology often obscured the goal. It was just much easier if he didn’t think about it. Now that Raines was in control, his life at The Centre was even more precariously in the balance.
He didn’t really know what went on in Scotland, but when they all got back, sans Jarod, things had quickly deteriorated. That was eight months ago now, but the shockwaves were still being felt. Miss Parker was even more frosty than ever before, although Broots could hardly blame her for that. Her father, correction, Uncle committing suicide by jumping from the plane. Raines turning out to be her real father, that’d be enough to send anyone off the deep-end, and then pitting her against her psychopathic brother in a race for their lives to catch Jarod….well, he was glad he was just a techie. For him, life had seemed to settle back into the “normal” routine. The chase was back on, Sydney was back doing whatever it was that Sydney did when not hunting for his former protégé. But even Broots could tell that things were not quite the same. Jarod’s trail was becoming thinner, each new lair seemed to yield a little bit less, and most bizarrely of all, the practical jokes, mostly aimed at Miss Parker, seemed to be off somehow. Broots couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong, but he felt as if Jarod was somehow not as invested, for want of a better term, in it anymore, like it was an afterthought.
A beep from his computer yanked him out of his ruminations. As he turned toward the screen, expecting it to tell him that it had finished its current cycle of diagnostics, he was shocked to see a hit on a Jarod Moore, an insurance fraud investigator, registered at a hotel in Red Bluff, Northern California. His mouth went dry and a nervous hand went up to stroke his bald pate.
“Ahh, Mr Broots,……. I see you have a lead on Jarod” wheezed Mr Raines.
Broots spun around, breathing heavily, he had not heard the tell-tale sounds of the faint whisper of the squeaky wheels. He had always thought it was really freaky how the man always just seemed to materialize at the most inopportune moments.
“I…uh….I was…. Mr R-Raines” he finally stammered out. As he got a grip of himself.
“Yes sir, I was just about to alert you, ummmm……there was a hit on a Jarod Moore in northern California, no confirmation yet sir, but it’s the best lead we‘ve had in a long time.”
The hunger in Raines’ eyes made Broots feel nauseous. “Get the jet and inform Mr Lyle and Miss Parker.”
“What about Sydney?” was out of Broots’ mouth before he could stop himself.
“Tell him nothing…… I don’t want him anywhere near this…… I question Sydney’s commitment and I will not let Jarod slip through our fingers again.” With that he spun on his heel and left.
Broots let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and reached out to pick up the phone with unsteady hands. He dialled Miss Parker’s number and informed her that they had a lead on Jarod and the jet would be leaving in 30 minutes. She had obviously been asleep and was none too pleased to be woken. But she was all business when Jarod’s name was mentioned. Broots had no doubt that she would make the plane on time. Now for the more unpleasant task. He considered putting it off and ringing Sydney instead, but in the end he dialled Mr Lyle’s number and gave him the information. He found Mr Lyle in his office, Broots did not want to think about the things Lyle could be cooking up at The Centre in the middle of the night. He hung up the phone. It is best to leave well-enough alone. He did not want any part of Mr Lyle. Broots had not survived this long in this nest of vipers by being a fool. After the calls were place he rested his head on his arms and offered a silent prayer that Jarod would be gone by the time they got there. For a brief second, he considered calling the hotel, but then the corner of his eye caught the photo of Debbie on his desk, and he knew that he could never make that call. Jarod was smart, and clever, he would be ok. Instead he reached for the phone to let Sydney know that there was a possible sighting on Jarod and that Miss Parker and Mr Lyle had been sent to try and retrieve him.
The phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his seat. “B-Broots here” he managed to stammer out.
“Mr Broots,…. do not tell Sydney about any of this. He is to know nothing….. do you understand?”
“Yes sir” his palms were sweaty and his breathing was shallow, it was as if Raines could read his thoughts. Now all he could do was wait and hope that he didn’t run into Sydney. He desperately wanted to go home now, but he knew that that was no longer an option. Instead, he threw himself back into his programming, trying to push his clamouring thoughts out of his tired brain.
1:30am
The Centre Hangar, Blue Cove
Mr Lyle and Miss Parker arrived at the jet almost simultaneously. To look at the pair of them, an outsider would never know they were twins. Lyle doubted that two twins could ever have been more different. In the quite moments in the dark, he sometimes pondered whether things would have been very much different for him, if he had been given the life that his sister had, would they be more alike. He supposed it didn’t matter really, but he wondered sometimes. As she got out of the car, he sighed and slipped back into full Mr Lyle mode. This very well could be the race of his life and he was damned sure that he wasn’t going to lose.
As Miss Parker got out of the car, she noticed her brother was already there. She took a deep breath and tried to arrange her face so that he wouldn’t see the disgust that was there. It was going to be a long flight, with lots of aggravation at the end no doubt, and she didn’t see the point in starting in with Lyle.
“You ready?” she said as way of greeting.
“Nice to see you too sis. Yes we are ready. Lets go get him” He loved to needle her with that particular term of endearment.
“Just shut up and get on the plane”, so much for not starting in with Lyle, but ….
As they entered the plane they were followed by Sam and Willie who seemed to trail them like their shadows. Five other sweepers got on and they readied themselves for take-off. Neither Miss Parker nor Sam liked Willie. Sam’s leg still ached sometimes from when Willie had put a bullet in it, and Miss Parker had never forgiven him for screwing it up when she had actually had Jarod right there. But there was no love lost on Willie’s side either. He worked for Mr Raines, and Mr Lyle, and firmly believed that things would be a whole lot easier if that idiot Sam and the Ice Queen Bitch would just get out of his way. He had had a bad time after that incident, and it was very clear in his mind who was to blame. He was also very eager to get to Jarod. He owed Jarod big time.
They all settled into their seats. Nobody spoke. The plane glided smoothly into the night and if all went well, they would have their prize in a few hours and could get back to their lives, such as they were.
Miss Parker was staring out the window, lost in thought. This hit on Jarod was very unexpected, and if it was genuine, very fortuitous. It wasn’t often they got a jump on Jarod, and the best part was that he wouldn’t even know they were coming. The hunter in her was in full mode now, thinking about how best to ensnare her prey. He had slipped past them so many times before. It was not wise to underestimate him. As she ran scenarios through her mind, a ghostly voice tickled at the back of her mind “I’ve always known that…” but she clamped it down with a ruthlessness that surprised her, even scared her a little. It had been a long time since then, and she had more or less successfully avoided thinking about it. It was dangerous for her to let her thoughts wander there. Things at The Centre were more delicate then ever. She had yet to find an emotional keel for the startling revelations with regard to her newly defined family tree. Lyle and Raines, she still could not think of him as her father, were working on something, but as yet she had been unable to determine what it was, but it gave her a very uneasy feeling. She sensed that they were plotting something behind her back, and the more out of the loop she was, the less they needed her. She didn’t want to think about what might happen then. She knew that they thought she was weak, that she was allowing her feelings for Jarod to control her, and she didn’t think baby brother would think twice about getting her out of his way. Also the pressure to find Jarod was increasing. She didn’t know what was in those damned scrolls, but the Triumvirate was becoming more impatient with the lack of results, and it seemed that Jarod was some kind of key. And to make matters worse, Jarod seemed to be slowly, but inexorably, removing himself from their radar. She had not failed to notice the diminishing amount of clues he left behind, even the pain-in-the-ass cryptic barbs he left for her seemed to be only half-hearted. Most alarming of all, however, was his total lack of contact. Even though she hated those early morning calls, waking her out of her deepest sleep, she worried that maybe something bad had happened to him. As far as she knew, he had not contacted Sydney in months either. And in all the years since he first escaped, he had never really gone very long without contacting either of them. Whether it was just to taunt or leave her some obscure breadcrumb to her past, sometimes to vent, but often for advice or help. It seemed like it was a lifeline for him. And now, months and not a whisper…..
“Parker! Are you asleep?” She looked around to see Lyle looking at her “Well?”
“Well what?” she snapped back.
“No need to be nasty. I think we need to work together on this. Boy Wonder can be a slippery bastard..”
Parker scoffed at his comment. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“What I am trying to say”, his tone was smooth, almost playful, oh how he loved pushing her buttons. “Is that we cannot afford to let him get away…again”
“What makes you think he is even there?” She snapped. “Just because that Moron Broots came up with a hit, doesn’t mean squat. We’ve had leads like this a dozen times before.”
“There’s no need to get your panties in a knot.” He cast her a sideways glance, waiting for the snappy comeback, he was disappointed. ”I'm just trying to suggest that on the off chance he is there, I want to make sure we catch the rat-bastard.”
She sighed, Lyle was right, and she hated that. Right now she hated Jarod. Dammit, this was all his fault. Why couldn’t he…. She opened her mouth to say something, but Lyle was already continuing.
“…..problem was manpower. We always get so close, but there is always some avenue that we cant close off. He always manages to slip through some crack….”
“What is your point?” she asked.
“I was thinking……what if we went in separately? You take your team in and if you don’t get him, he will think its business as usual. In the past, the near-misses have nearly always been the same.” Lyle was animated now, shifting in his seat, excited. Parker could sense where he was going with this and felt a little flutter of excitement in her belly. Years of training and pursuit were hard to break. She silenced the Inner Voice before it had a chance to undermine her.
“Yes…we will go in….. and if we miss him..”
“When you miss him” Lyle interrupted with a sly grin.
“He will do the bolt, confident that he has given me the slip….” She barely acknowledged his slight on her abilities. Lyles eyes were practically glowing.
“And run straight into the arms of one of our other sweeper teams. I have contacted the local office and we have a team of twenty sweepers at our disposal. That makes nearly thirty all up. They know the area around the hotel, and if we can get in close enough without alerting Jarod, well we should be able to block off all forms of egress. He doesn’t know we are coming, he won’t be prepared, and he will never expect an army.”
He was practically gloating now, eager like a 4 year old that had just been told Santa was coming twice this year.
“Jarod will think after eluding you and Sam, he will be home free.” Lyle chuckled softly. “I also have another surprise up my sleeve for our lab rat. It amazes me that no-one ever thought of it before.”
“What are you babbling about now?” Paker snapped, but she had a very uneasy feeling. Lyle looked the proverbial cat that just ate the canary. She just hoped that she wasn’t the canary.
“Our biggest problem in the past”, Lyle’s excitement was almost at fever pitch. It didn’t matter who actually bagged Jarod anymore, he knew either way, he would get the credit for his capture. He even hoped it was Parker, as long as she didn’t threaten his position and security, he had no real desire to see her dead, well not anymore anyway. He continued “as I see it, is that we can't just shoot the bastard. I would hate to be the poor son-of-a-bitch that killed him by accident. So that got me thinking….”
Parker snorted.
Lyle didn’t miss a beat.
“…. The sweepers, Sydney, hell, even you, have never had the courage to actually shoot him.” Lyle saw her look, and placated her “Well, except in Florida, you missed and it didn’t bring him in did it? Wait…wait…I don’t blame you. But he knows that he is no good to us dead, he counts on it, which is why he always gets away.”
“Lyle what the hell are you talking about?” She was exasperated. She didn’t like Lyle, or anyone for that matter, rehashing her failures in the past, and despite what Sydney thought, she really had tried to bring him down in Florida. “I know we can't kill him, but…the danger if they do shoot him....what do you propose?” she finally finished lamely. Lyle had obviously given this a lot of thought, and maybe he even had something.
Lyle’s smile was triumphant. The solution was so simple. He let it dangle until he could see she was losing her patience. “Tranquilliser guns.”
Even Parker had to admire the elegance. She knew that they couldn’t kill him, and even when they threatened him with their guns, it never stopped him. He knew they couldn’t afford a dead Pretender on their hands. So what did that leave, brute force? She had no chance of stopping him, it would take two, maybe even three sweepers to bring him down, and if it was public, things could get very tricky. As much as she hated to admit it, Lyle’s solution was brilliant, and yet so simple.
Lyle sat back and relaxed. He knew Parker thought it was a good plan, although she would die before she admitted it. He closed his eyes, not expecting her to reply. There were still another hour before they landed, and he wanted to go over some of the aspects of his plan in his mind. Jarod would be back at The Centre before nightfall, hopefully under his control. He had been laying the groundwork for that for a long time. After the debacle of the last time, he wanted to be prepared, to make sure his position was secure. Even after nearly a month, he had been unable to get Jarod's cooperation, and the sting of that failure was still with him. Then the escape, fortunately that could not pin that one on him, he sniggered as he thought of Sam taking the blame, “Better you than me buddy” he thought. This time would be different. He had thought long and hard and believed he had come up with a brilliant plan. Even Raines thought it was inspired, and he was the master. Oh yes, he had a bright future. He smiled at the thought of it.
Miss Parker watched Lyle. He looked like he was resting, but she knew he was plotting, and the smile that came to his lips sent chills down her spine. She was ambivalent about her feelings. Listening to Lyle, she had caught his enthusiasm, and her desire to catch Jarod was strong. She wanted to show him that she was as good as he was. To punish him for all the years of torments, the endless chasing and taunts, the mindgames. She blamed him for the way her life was. If he had just stayed put…. her career in Corporate could have taken her anywhere she wanted to go. But instead, she’d wasted over half a decade of her life and only ever going backwards. He had taken everything in her life that she had believed in, everything that had given her a sense of stability, and she hated him for it. She knew that he had only given her the truth, and she understood that there was no real malice behind it, and in his own way, he had actually been helping her. But it was still bitter medicine, and it was very hard for her not to blame him. In fact, it was easier..... She blamed him for Tommy too. It was not reasonable, she knew that but didn’t care, if it hadn’t been for Jarod's pursuit, Tommy would still be alive. Even now, the hurt was still too raw, and it seemed more bearable somehow if everything was Jarod's fault. She knew that Sydney would have lots to say about that. But she clung to her negative feelings as if they were a life-raft. She would need them fairly soon.
“What if he really is there?” she thought to herself. Did she really want him caught? She could guess what they would do to him if they did catch him. Could she live with herself? Things were very different from when she first started this insane pursuit. She knew a lot more now. Disturbing things. Jarod was not a Frankenstein’s monster, and after all he had been through, after everything that was taken from him, everything he had been denied, didn’t he deserve some peace? Some rest? They were friends once. She knew Jarod loved her… he had practically said as much in Scotland….but she had already known. The pain in his eyes in the back of that car, the hurt when she had pulled away. Despite all the negative feelings she was trying desperately to bolster, she felt very conflicted. Guilt and doubt were tearing at her. But what was she supposed to do? It really came down to a choice: her life or his?
The plane started its descent. Lyle whispered a little prayer, as did his twin sister. They were not praying for the same thing.
Entropy
11:30pm
Jarod’s Hotel Room
Northern California
The man entered the non-descript room and sighed. Why is it that all hotel rooms are the same? It didn’t seem to matter to him whether it was expensive and luxurious, or cheap and roach infested…. At the end of the day they were always the same. Impersonal and uncaring. He would leave here tomorrow, and it would be as if he had never even been there at all.
He flipped the light switch and threw his bag on the bed. A shower is what he needed. As he headed to the small bathroom, he could feel the beginnings of a tension headache making itself known. Hopefully the hot water would be enough to send it on its way before it took hold. He almost ripped off the suit and tie that he was wearing, how he hated the suits that he was often forced to wear in many of his pretends. He always felt the tie was suffocating him, and the suits conjured up nasty associations with sweepers. He sighed heavily and stepped into the stream of hot water and allowed himself to relax. And for a few brief minutes, he forgot that he had any cares in the world, relishing the feel of the water on his skin, he closed his eyes, rested his head against the tiles and stayed like that until the headache was gone.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and perched himself at the small table. He looked at the silver case, hesitated a moment, but didn’t open it. It was late, and he was tired, but the thought of sleep held little invitation, it was rare that he found respite there. Instead, he opened his red notebook and scanned the contents. He would buy tomorrow morning’s paper, cut out the relevant article, and this little odyssey would be finished. Time to move on. The Pretend had been fairly simple, and it had all worked out in the end, he supposed, but he had this vague feeling of ….. what?….. too little, too late? He knew that all he could do sometimes was just try to pick up the pieces, help put back together shattered lives as best he could. But it somehow just didn’t seem enough. No, that wasn’t strictly true. It just never seemed enough recently. He did not have superpowers after all, he could not foresee bad things happening. Sydney had told him, on more than one occasion, that he could not save everybody.
He stood up rapidly, knocking the chair askew, and started pacing the small room. This line of thinking was going nowhere. It was not like him to be this morbid. He desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone, her. He was so very tired of being alone. Every where he went he carried his loneliness with him, like a beaten up but comfortable old leather jacket. But he did not reach for his phone, instead his mind turned to the trail of breadcrumbs he planned to leave. He needed to get out this mind-slump, and this had always been his favourite part. His mind loved the details, the puzzle and he would leave just enough clues to tantalize them, keep them busy long enough to ensure that he was safe, give him some breathing room. He knew that this game was dangerous, but it kept them playing by his rules to a certain degree. It gave them a certain level of predicability, and him a certain level of control. Not much, but perhaps enough. Thinking back over the past 6 or so years, it had served him well. Yes, they had caught up to him a few times, but for the most part, he had eluded them. He shuddered as he shook off the memory of the time just after Donoterase, his father, the boy….
The boy, Gem his father was calling him now, was never far from his thoughts. He still had not come to terms with his brother, twin, son? His feelings were so mixed. White-hot hatred for the people who created him and would have kept him prisoner his entire life, to be used and exploited. Tenderness, protectiveness and a fierce desire to shield him, to give the boy the life that they both should have had. Yet at the same time, he was a little afraid of him, of himself he supposed. It was crazy, and his desire to talk to Sydney about it was almost overwhelming sometimes. It dismayed Jarod, this need to talk to Sydney, rather than his father. Sydney would understand in ways that the Major never could. Another thing that The Centre had stolen from him, he thought bitterly. It had been many months since he had called Sydney, but he buried the urge, deep where fears that are not understood, are never allowed out. He supposed that it was ironic, the one benefit that his life on the run had afforded him. The luxury of avoiding having to deal with it. This self-imposed separation kept them safe. Well, safer. He didn’t know how he felt about the boy… about Gem , and that bothered him greatly. He was not used to being this vulnerable to things that he didn’t understand. Everything else always came so easily, so naturally and his psyche just did not know how to deal with something that he did not know how to deal with. But the one thing he did know was that his father would love Gem and pour on him all the love that he had been unable to give Jarod. And this eased his guilt somewhat. The best gift Jarod could give was to stay away, not to threaten what little security and stability the Major could give him. He was damned sure that he would never allow The Centre to get their filthy hands on either of them ever again. He would die before he allowed that to happen.
He took another look at the DSAs and decided he just wasn’t up for another stroll down memory lane, perhaps sleep would come after all. He had barely slept over the last few days and he could feel the fatigue to the core of his being. During the Pretends, he found that there was usually too much to do, and he was way too wired to rest, but the Pretend was over now and his body was demanding some respite. Finally weariness overcame him and he sunk down onto the bed and crawled under the covers and his last thought before an uneasy sleep claimed him, as always, was of his mother.
1:00am
The Centre Tech Room
Blue Cove Delaware
Broots was immensely pleased with himself. He was tweaking a new program that he had been working on. He was so engrossed in his work, he didn’t even realise the lateness of the hour. Debbie was at a friends for a sleepover, and he was anxious to see if his new program would work. If he was successful, it would mean that the computer searches that were constantly looking for hits on “Jarod” would be far more efficient. Mr Raines, Mr Lyle, even Miss Parker just didn’t understand that you don’t just type in the word Jarod, and poof, two minutes later the computer obediently spat out where their errant Pretender might be. Everybody wants everything yesterday. It wasn’t as if he really wanted the man caught, he just wanted everybody off his case. Also, he found that the challenge of the chase and the lure of the technology often obscured the goal. It was just much easier if he didn’t think about it. Now that Raines was in control, his life at The Centre was even more precariously in the balance.
He didn’t really know what went on in Scotland, but when they all got back, sans Jarod, things had quickly deteriorated. That was eight months ago now, but the shockwaves were still being felt. Miss Parker was even more frosty than ever before, although Broots could hardly blame her for that. Her father, correction, Uncle committing suicide by jumping from the plane. Raines turning out to be her real father, that’d be enough to send anyone off the deep-end, and then pitting her against her psychopathic brother in a race for their lives to catch Jarod….well, he was glad he was just a techie. For him, life had seemed to settle back into the “normal” routine. The chase was back on, Sydney was back doing whatever it was that Sydney did when not hunting for his former protégé. But even Broots could tell that things were not quite the same. Jarod’s trail was becoming thinner, each new lair seemed to yield a little bit less, and most bizarrely of all, the practical jokes, mostly aimed at Miss Parker, seemed to be off somehow. Broots couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong, but he felt as if Jarod was somehow not as invested, for want of a better term, in it anymore, like it was an afterthought.
A beep from his computer yanked him out of his ruminations. As he turned toward the screen, expecting it to tell him that it had finished its current cycle of diagnostics, he was shocked to see a hit on a Jarod Moore, an insurance fraud investigator, registered at a hotel in Red Bluff, Northern California. His mouth went dry and a nervous hand went up to stroke his bald pate.
“Ahh, Mr Broots,……. I see you have a lead on Jarod” wheezed Mr Raines.
Broots spun around, breathing heavily, he had not heard the tell-tale sounds of the faint whisper of the squeaky wheels. He had always thought it was really freaky how the man always just seemed to materialize at the most inopportune moments.
“I…uh….I was…. Mr R-Raines” he finally stammered out. As he got a grip of himself.
“Yes sir, I was just about to alert you, ummmm……there was a hit on a Jarod Moore in northern California, no confirmation yet sir, but it’s the best lead we‘ve had in a long time.”
The hunger in Raines’ eyes made Broots feel nauseous. “Get the jet and inform Mr Lyle and Miss Parker.”
“What about Sydney?” was out of Broots’ mouth before he could stop himself.
“Tell him nothing…… I don’t want him anywhere near this…… I question Sydney’s commitment and I will not let Jarod slip through our fingers again.” With that he spun on his heel and left.
Broots let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and reached out to pick up the phone with unsteady hands. He dialled Miss Parker’s number and informed her that they had a lead on Jarod and the jet would be leaving in 30 minutes. She had obviously been asleep and was none too pleased to be woken. But she was all business when Jarod’s name was mentioned. Broots had no doubt that she would make the plane on time. Now for the more unpleasant task. He considered putting it off and ringing Sydney instead, but in the end he dialled Mr Lyle’s number and gave him the information. He found Mr Lyle in his office, Broots did not want to think about the things Lyle could be cooking up at The Centre in the middle of the night. He hung up the phone. It is best to leave well-enough alone. He did not want any part of Mr Lyle. Broots had not survived this long in this nest of vipers by being a fool. After the calls were place he rested his head on his arms and offered a silent prayer that Jarod would be gone by the time they got there. For a brief second, he considered calling the hotel, but then the corner of his eye caught the photo of Debbie on his desk, and he knew that he could never make that call. Jarod was smart, and clever, he would be ok. Instead he reached for the phone to let Sydney know that there was a possible sighting on Jarod and that Miss Parker and Mr Lyle had been sent to try and retrieve him.
The phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his seat. “B-Broots here” he managed to stammer out.
“Mr Broots,…. do not tell Sydney about any of this. He is to know nothing….. do you understand?”
“Yes sir” his palms were sweaty and his breathing was shallow, it was as if Raines could read his thoughts. Now all he could do was wait and hope that he didn’t run into Sydney. He desperately wanted to go home now, but he knew that that was no longer an option. Instead, he threw himself back into his programming, trying to push his clamouring thoughts out of his tired brain.
1:30am
The Centre Hangar, Blue Cove
Mr Lyle and Miss Parker arrived at the jet almost simultaneously. To look at the pair of them, an outsider would never know they were twins. Lyle doubted that two twins could ever have been more different. In the quite moments in the dark, he sometimes pondered whether things would have been very much different for him, if he had been given the life that his sister had, would they be more alike. He supposed it didn’t matter really, but he wondered sometimes. As she got out of the car, he sighed and slipped back into full Mr Lyle mode. This very well could be the race of his life and he was damned sure that he wasn’t going to lose.
As Miss Parker got out of the car, she noticed her brother was already there. She took a deep breath and tried to arrange her face so that he wouldn’t see the disgust that was there. It was going to be a long flight, with lots of aggravation at the end no doubt, and she didn’t see the point in starting in with Lyle.
“You ready?” she said as way of greeting.
“Nice to see you too sis. Yes we are ready. Lets go get him” He loved to needle her with that particular term of endearment.
“Just shut up and get on the plane”, so much for not starting in with Lyle, but ….
As they entered the plane they were followed by Sam and Willie who seemed to trail them like their shadows. Five other sweepers got on and they readied themselves for take-off. Neither Miss Parker nor Sam liked Willie. Sam’s leg still ached sometimes from when Willie had put a bullet in it, and Miss Parker had never forgiven him for screwing it up when she had actually had Jarod right there. But there was no love lost on Willie’s side either. He worked for Mr Raines, and Mr Lyle, and firmly believed that things would be a whole lot easier if that idiot Sam and the Ice Queen Bitch would just get out of his way. He had had a bad time after that incident, and it was very clear in his mind who was to blame. He was also very eager to get to Jarod. He owed Jarod big time.
They all settled into their seats. Nobody spoke. The plane glided smoothly into the night and if all went well, they would have their prize in a few hours and could get back to their lives, such as they were.
Miss Parker was staring out the window, lost in thought. This hit on Jarod was very unexpected, and if it was genuine, very fortuitous. It wasn’t often they got a jump on Jarod, and the best part was that he wouldn’t even know they were coming. The hunter in her was in full mode now, thinking about how best to ensnare her prey. He had slipped past them so many times before. It was not wise to underestimate him. As she ran scenarios through her mind, a ghostly voice tickled at the back of her mind “I’ve always known that…” but she clamped it down with a ruthlessness that surprised her, even scared her a little. It had been a long time since then, and she had more or less successfully avoided thinking about it. It was dangerous for her to let her thoughts wander there. Things at The Centre were more delicate then ever. She had yet to find an emotional keel for the startling revelations with regard to her newly defined family tree. Lyle and Raines, she still could not think of him as her father, were working on something, but as yet she had been unable to determine what it was, but it gave her a very uneasy feeling. She sensed that they were plotting something behind her back, and the more out of the loop she was, the less they needed her. She didn’t want to think about what might happen then. She knew that they thought she was weak, that she was allowing her feelings for Jarod to control her, and she didn’t think baby brother would think twice about getting her out of his way. Also the pressure to find Jarod was increasing. She didn’t know what was in those damned scrolls, but the Triumvirate was becoming more impatient with the lack of results, and it seemed that Jarod was some kind of key. And to make matters worse, Jarod seemed to be slowly, but inexorably, removing himself from their radar. She had not failed to notice the diminishing amount of clues he left behind, even the pain-in-the-ass cryptic barbs he left for her seemed to be only half-hearted. Most alarming of all, however, was his total lack of contact. Even though she hated those early morning calls, waking her out of her deepest sleep, she worried that maybe something bad had happened to him. As far as she knew, he had not contacted Sydney in months either. And in all the years since he first escaped, he had never really gone very long without contacting either of them. Whether it was just to taunt or leave her some obscure breadcrumb to her past, sometimes to vent, but often for advice or help. It seemed like it was a lifeline for him. And now, months and not a whisper…..
“Parker! Are you asleep?” She looked around to see Lyle looking at her “Well?”
“Well what?” she snapped back.
“No need to be nasty. I think we need to work together on this. Boy Wonder can be a slippery bastard..”
Parker scoffed at his comment. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“What I am trying to say”, his tone was smooth, almost playful, oh how he loved pushing her buttons. “Is that we cannot afford to let him get away…again”
“What makes you think he is even there?” She snapped. “Just because that Moron Broots came up with a hit, doesn’t mean squat. We’ve had leads like this a dozen times before.”
“There’s no need to get your panties in a knot.” He cast her a sideways glance, waiting for the snappy comeback, he was disappointed. ”I'm just trying to suggest that on the off chance he is there, I want to make sure we catch the rat-bastard.”
She sighed, Lyle was right, and she hated that. Right now she hated Jarod. Dammit, this was all his fault. Why couldn’t he…. She opened her mouth to say something, but Lyle was already continuing.
“…..problem was manpower. We always get so close, but there is always some avenue that we cant close off. He always manages to slip through some crack….”
“What is your point?” she asked.
“I was thinking……what if we went in separately? You take your team in and if you don’t get him, he will think its business as usual. In the past, the near-misses have nearly always been the same.” Lyle was animated now, shifting in his seat, excited. Parker could sense where he was going with this and felt a little flutter of excitement in her belly. Years of training and pursuit were hard to break. She silenced the Inner Voice before it had a chance to undermine her.
“Yes…we will go in….. and if we miss him..”
“When you miss him” Lyle interrupted with a sly grin.
“He will do the bolt, confident that he has given me the slip….” She barely acknowledged his slight on her abilities. Lyles eyes were practically glowing.
“And run straight into the arms of one of our other sweeper teams. I have contacted the local office and we have a team of twenty sweepers at our disposal. That makes nearly thirty all up. They know the area around the hotel, and if we can get in close enough without alerting Jarod, well we should be able to block off all forms of egress. He doesn’t know we are coming, he won’t be prepared, and he will never expect an army.”
He was practically gloating now, eager like a 4 year old that had just been told Santa was coming twice this year.
“Jarod will think after eluding you and Sam, he will be home free.” Lyle chuckled softly. “I also have another surprise up my sleeve for our lab rat. It amazes me that no-one ever thought of it before.”
“What are you babbling about now?” Paker snapped, but she had a very uneasy feeling. Lyle looked the proverbial cat that just ate the canary. She just hoped that she wasn’t the canary.
“Our biggest problem in the past”, Lyle’s excitement was almost at fever pitch. It didn’t matter who actually bagged Jarod anymore, he knew either way, he would get the credit for his capture. He even hoped it was Parker, as long as she didn’t threaten his position and security, he had no real desire to see her dead, well not anymore anyway. He continued “as I see it, is that we can't just shoot the bastard. I would hate to be the poor son-of-a-bitch that killed him by accident. So that got me thinking….”
Parker snorted.
Lyle didn’t miss a beat.
“…. The sweepers, Sydney, hell, even you, have never had the courage to actually shoot him.” Lyle saw her look, and placated her “Well, except in Florida, you missed and it didn’t bring him in did it? Wait…wait…I don’t blame you. But he knows that he is no good to us dead, he counts on it, which is why he always gets away.”
“Lyle what the hell are you talking about?” She was exasperated. She didn’t like Lyle, or anyone for that matter, rehashing her failures in the past, and despite what Sydney thought, she really had tried to bring him down in Florida. “I know we can't kill him, but…the danger if they do shoot him....what do you propose?” she finally finished lamely. Lyle had obviously given this a lot of thought, and maybe he even had something.
Lyle’s smile was triumphant. The solution was so simple. He let it dangle until he could see she was losing her patience. “Tranquilliser guns.”
Even Parker had to admire the elegance. She knew that they couldn’t kill him, and even when they threatened him with their guns, it never stopped him. He knew they couldn’t afford a dead Pretender on their hands. So what did that leave, brute force? She had no chance of stopping him, it would take two, maybe even three sweepers to bring him down, and if it was public, things could get very tricky. As much as she hated to admit it, Lyle’s solution was brilliant, and yet so simple.
Lyle sat back and relaxed. He knew Parker thought it was a good plan, although she would die before she admitted it. He closed his eyes, not expecting her to reply. There were still another hour before they landed, and he wanted to go over some of the aspects of his plan in his mind. Jarod would be back at The Centre before nightfall, hopefully under his control. He had been laying the groundwork for that for a long time. After the debacle of the last time, he wanted to be prepared, to make sure his position was secure. Even after nearly a month, he had been unable to get Jarod's cooperation, and the sting of that failure was still with him. Then the escape, fortunately that could not pin that one on him, he sniggered as he thought of Sam taking the blame, “Better you than me buddy” he thought. This time would be different. He had thought long and hard and believed he had come up with a brilliant plan. Even Raines thought it was inspired, and he was the master. Oh yes, he had a bright future. He smiled at the thought of it.
Miss Parker watched Lyle. He looked like he was resting, but she knew he was plotting, and the smile that came to his lips sent chills down her spine. She was ambivalent about her feelings. Listening to Lyle, she had caught his enthusiasm, and her desire to catch Jarod was strong. She wanted to show him that she was as good as he was. To punish him for all the years of torments, the endless chasing and taunts, the mindgames. She blamed him for the way her life was. If he had just stayed put…. her career in Corporate could have taken her anywhere she wanted to go. But instead, she’d wasted over half a decade of her life and only ever going backwards. He had taken everything in her life that she had believed in, everything that had given her a sense of stability, and she hated him for it. She knew that he had only given her the truth, and she understood that there was no real malice behind it, and in his own way, he had actually been helping her. But it was still bitter medicine, and it was very hard for her not to blame him. In fact, it was easier..... She blamed him for Tommy too. It was not reasonable, she knew that but didn’t care, if it hadn’t been for Jarod's pursuit, Tommy would still be alive. Even now, the hurt was still too raw, and it seemed more bearable somehow if everything was Jarod's fault. She knew that Sydney would have lots to say about that. But she clung to her negative feelings as if they were a life-raft. She would need them fairly soon.
“What if he really is there?” she thought to herself. Did she really want him caught? She could guess what they would do to him if they did catch him. Could she live with herself? Things were very different from when she first started this insane pursuit. She knew a lot more now. Disturbing things. Jarod was not a Frankenstein’s monster, and after all he had been through, after everything that was taken from him, everything he had been denied, didn’t he deserve some peace? Some rest? They were friends once. She knew Jarod loved her… he had practically said as much in Scotland….but she had already known. The pain in his eyes in the back of that car, the hurt when she had pulled away. Despite all the negative feelings she was trying desperately to bolster, she felt very conflicted. Guilt and doubt were tearing at her. But what was she supposed to do? It really came down to a choice: her life or his?
The plane started its descent. Lyle whispered a little prayer, as did his twin sister. They were not praying for the same thing.
