Truth Series by Leah
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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
DISCLAIMER: The fictional characters (Miss Parker, Jarod, Sydney, Broots etc.) and places of the dramatic television series "The Pretender" are the property of MTM Entertainment and NBC Productions. This story is an independent ffan production with no harsh intent for free entertainment only. Second season story. This is the sequel to "The Search for Truth" and "Flashes of Truth." Rated PG for some violent content.
FIRE AND TRUTH
by Leah
Written in 1998
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"You kicked the habit. It was something you'd had for so long, that you thought you needed it. It controlled you, while at the same time destroying you and now you're free of it. Look inside. Free yourself, Miss Parker." Click. Miss Parker hung up before the dial tone could come on. What was Jarod talking about now? She was still groggy from sleep and wondered why it was Jarod always seemed to contact her when she was at her most relaxed moments. Out of habit, she reached over to her night stand but came up empty. Then, she realized it. Boy Wonder was talking about the fact that she had quit smoking.
Or was he? And how did he know?
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"I don't think so, Sydney." Broots shook his head. "You know how she's been lately."
Sydney agreed, "Rather on a short fuse....Why don't you ask her, Broots?"
"Ask me what?" Miss Parker said, strolling into the tech room. Her hands were full of recent reports on Jarod's whereabouts and she flipped through them.
"Um...it's really nothing, Miss Parker," Broots replied, beginning to sweat. "Well...I don't mean nothing. It is something," he rambled on, pulling at his collar. "It's just...Well." Broots put both of his hands together in a pleading posture. "There's a school field trip today and I promised Debbie that I would go. She's really counting on me being there and it's all day and," he gulped. "It starts in an hour."
Through all of this Miss Parker did not even look at Broots. She continued flipping through her folder of reports and Broots was not entirely sure she had heard a word of it.
"Broots!" Miss Parker said, so suddenly that he jumped. "Get out of my sight!"
"Oh, thank you! Thank you," Broots said, nearly groveling as he headed for the door.
Miss Parker called out the door after him for the benefit for all to hear. "And if I catch you around or anywhere near the Centre today, your head will roll!"
"That was very kind of you, Miss Parker," Sydney observed. "As you can see, Broots appreciated it."
Miss Parker watched Broots' back disappearing down the hall. Then, she turned to Sydney with a pleased smile and an innocent look, "Kind? I don't know what you mean, Syd." She pushed the folder of reports at Sydney. "Let's get to work."
By lunchtime, Miss Parker was still thinking of the words Jarod had said in his phone call of the night before. She went over them again and again in her mind, looking for a hidden clue. Finally, at her wit's end, she asked Sydney about it. After all, if anyone would know what Jarod meant, it would have to be Sydney.
"Jarod is fond of using analogies," Sydney explained. "He makes connections comparing one thing to another as I'm sure you're aware."
Miss Parker thought of the time in Florida when Jarod had compared the meanest alligator to her and replied, "I'm aware of it alright."
"Do you mind if we continue this later?" Sydney asked, checking his watch. "Although, you're welcome to join me."
Miss Parker shook her head and Sydney headed to lunch. She walked to her office to take the medicine that had been prescribed for her ulcer and thought over the events of the past few weeks. The pressure on her had been greater since Brigitte and Mr. Lyle (who knew where Lyle'd disappeared to?!) had come, but especially great because of her father. Mr. Parker did not totally trust her as he once had and, though she would never have admitted it, that hurt.
Her mind flashed back to only a few weeks before, when her father and Mr. Raines had plotted to steal ten million dollars from Mr. Lyle. Through several manipulations, they had used her as a pawn to carry out their plan. Her mind went back to the conversation she had had with her father, in the infirmary, when she had first found out that he was behind the plan.
"I apologize for the secrecy, but is was important you believed exactly what you believed," her father had patronized, unashamedly.
"And all that stuff about a younger lion. That was all part of it?" she questioned, pacing to and fro. She was floored. How could he have not told her about this?
Mr. Parker had an answer for everything. "For your own protection."
"And the money?" Miss Parker had asked.
He answered the question, calmly. She sighed then, and had asked in bewilderment, "Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"
"Well considering everything that happened, I didn't think you'd trust me," Mr. Parker had responded. She had spent a long time thinking about that afterwards.
There was a tapping on the side of the open door. Miss Parker looked around to see Brigitte peeking in at her. She caught the feeling the cleaner had been studying her for several seconds before making her presence known. The blonde's bangs were annoyingly curled over the eyes which were accented by the overabundant blue eye shadow. And between Brigitte's lips, as usual, a lollipop stick protruded.
"What brings you here?" Miss Parker asked, making no effort to hide the displeasure in voice. Brigitte had not been visible for the past several weeks, but Miss Parker knew that didn't mean the cleaner hadn't been keeping an eye on her. Brigitte was her assigned watch dog and Miss Parker had accepted the situation the same way a cat accepts the existence of fleas. Brigitte existed, but that didn't mean Miss Parker had to like her...or even make the pretense of doing so.
Brigitte understood her and smiled to herself. She pulled the sucker from her mouth and gestured with it. She always did enjoy annoying her rival. "It was necessary," she replied. "To inform you. We are going to Kentucky."
Kentucky, Miss Parker groaned inwardly. The last time she had been in Kentucky was May of 1997. She had gone to Louisville alone, following a tip from one of Jarod's calls. He had stranded her car, eluded capture--she couldn't very well pull a gun on him in a woods full of picnickers--and thrown her cigarettes into a bon fire. It was there she had made The Deal with him. He would give her information on her mother's death, while she would provide him with information about his family. She had no desire to relive that humiliating experience--especially not with the added burden of Brigitte.
"Actually informing me? My, how your standards change! And is Franken Boy in Kentucky?" This better not be an investigation on my solitary trip there, Miss Parker thought, darkly.
"Difficult to tell with Mr. Broots gone, isn't it?" Brigitte shrugged. But she dared not linger on that particular subject, still apparently remembering Miss Parker's warnings about messing with her team. "It remains to be seen. See you there." Brigitte slinked away.
Miss Parker picked up her phone. "Sydney? Get back here," she said, firmly. "We have an assignment and I don't want the Amateur trying to start without us." Well, Miss Parker breathed, still thinking to herself. She had to work with Brigitte, but at least she didn't have to travel with her....only beat her to the destination.
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KENTUCKY
"So," Jarod asked, the girl working the concession stand, "Why is it that people are so willing to pay these high prices for movie popcorn when this is something they could make at home?" He gave her a friendly smile.
"Well," replied the girl, giving Jarod a wondering look. "Guess it's cuz the rules say you can't bring your own food to the movies."
"Oh, I see," said Jarod. "So the whole system is set up so that people who come to see the movies end up having to pay twice as much for snack foods that they could get for one-third of the price they pay if they just bought them at the store and ate them at home?"
"That's about the size of it," she drawled. "But most folks don't seem to mind, 'sides popcorn at the show's just," she shrugged, trying to explain. "Tastes better. We pop it fresh. So you buying or just yakking?"
"Sure," said Jarod, good-naturedly. "How much popcorn will this buy?" He threw down a twenty-dollar bill.
The girl gave him an amazed look. "All popcorn? Just for you, mister?" she asked. "Four large buckets." She whistled.
"That's about the size of it," Jarod drawled. "But can I get it in a bag to go, instead of a bucket? I'm kind of in a hurry."
Jarod made his purchase and the girl shook her head in disbelief over the man who had bought four large buckets of popcorn, but hadn't stayed to watch a single movie.
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Jarod had good reason to be hurried. Having stepped by that local news camera, the day before, he was expecting company would be joining him soon. He knew some sharp eye at the Centre would likely catch it, so it was best to stay alert.
Jarod, from his roost atop a building, looked down from his vantage point and grinned boyishly. He put his hand in a paper bag and pulled out another handful of buttery popcorn. He had doubled back on his pursuers and now he was behind them. As he looked below, he saw Miss Parker run past, followed by several sweepers. They fanned out through the area then, halted and regrouped at a four-way crossing. He could see that she was shouting directions at them, ordering half to the right and half to the left. They scattered. Miss Parker herself, drew her gun and forged straight ahead. Then she rounded the right corner of a building and left his sight. Jarod ate another handful of popcorn, simply enjoying the live action. He admired her persistence. He knew that the route she had taken led to a dead end alleyway and unless she thought of climbing the fire escape (as he had done in order to double back undetected) she would soon reappear.
Another movement along with the flash of a metallic-colored suit below distracted his attention. He recognized the woman moving below as the cleaner, Brigitte. He was not surprised to see her, but there was something in her movements that struck him as suspicious. She did not seem to be involved in his chase, although doubtless she was keeping an eye out for him. She was walking slowly and deliberately, and when she reached the four-way, she paused. Two sweepers ran back into sight, the ones Miss Parker had sent to the left, evidently returning empty-handed. He could see the blonde woman approach and consult with them. This lasted only two minutes, then the sweepers headed back in the direction from which Brigitte had come. The cleaner walked onwards, going in the same direction Miss Parker had taken. Jarod stopped eating the popcorn. He shook his head. Something about this did not feel right. He left his perch, headed over the rooftops, back in the direction from whence he'd come.
Dead end, Miss Parker thought. But so what if she had run into it? Wasn't it likely that Boy Wonder had too? Hey, he couldn't be that smart all the time. She looked around the alley, there were trash cans lining the tall brick buildings on both sides of it. The brown fence that impeded her path looked insurmountable--even for Jarod. She sighed.
WHACK! Stars swam before her eyes. She looked down and saw the pavement was moving towards her. Then, blackness.
When Miss Parker opened her eyes again, the first thing her fingers did was grip. They grasped nothing. Her gun was gone. The daylight hadn't changed much, she could only have been unconscious for several seconds.
"Looking for this, luv?" a British voice asked in a pleased manner.
Miss Parker stood up slowly and turned to see Brigitte, holding Miss Parker's very own 9mm in a gloved hand. It was aimed directly at her head.
"Not my style," Brigitte said. "But I suppose it'll have to do. Well, Parker, I'm glad you shall be awake for your untimely demise." Miss Parker opened her mouth to shout for the sweepers, but Brigitte caught the action. Click. She took off the safety and warned, "I wouldn't try that, luv! I'll shoot before anyone will ever reach you."
Miss Parker fell silent as a statue. She felt cold and dead inside. Totally detached from her emotions. She had become the Ice Queen. "What's the matter, Brigitte?" she spoke suddenly. "Couldn't take the heat?" It felt good to talk. She no longer felt any pain. She stared at the glinting gun and felt no fear, no anger. Only bitterness. Her heart had grown numb. Miss Parker continued rashly, "I know Jarod and you don't. I've been on this chase from the beginning and now you feel the need to eliminate the competition. I'm too much for you, eh?"
"On the contrary, luv. I have an advantage in not knowing the man. I can maintain my distance in the matter. He does not know me and thus cannot predict what I will do, as is often the case in your encounters with 'im. I will do something unexpected...the element of surprise is on my side."
"Surprise, but not time," Miss Parker smirked. "How many miles do you think he's run while you were wasting the time standing here?" Miss Parker didn't care anymore. She felt nothing. It was as if she were frozen inside. "I respect Jarod's abilities. I know what I'm dealing with, which is more than I can say for you."
"I know the consequences of my actions quite well. We ran into your Pretender. He stole your gun and fired it at us. You were hit. There was nothing I could do. He often wears gloves, doesn't he, luv? Which accounts for no fingerprints." Brigitte gave her a calculating gaze, then took several steps backward preparing to fire. "Your main disadvantage is that you know Jarod too well," Brigitte continued, squinting. She grinned impishly and began to repeat Miss Parker's own words back at her, "Jarod's not just a man, he's a pretender. A human chameleon, a genius who can literally become anyone he wants to be, I believe those were your exact words. You are too close to your subject and I even would go so far as to believe there is a childish infatuation with 'im. I've seen this sort of weakness before. Pursuer's sympathy, I call it. You begin to relate to the feelings of your intended prey, even develop admiration for it...begin to feel that you share a common bond. Which quite frankly for you, Parker, will prove fatal. Don't believe I 'ave 'the rocks' to pull the trigger? We'll find out presently, won't we luv?"
Miss Parker flashed Brigitte one of her killer looks. "Go ahead. I dare you!" She felt Brigitte was a coward, but then a saying came uncomfortably to mind. Only cowards need guns. This might be the end. She had heard that those facing death had their whole lives flash before their eyes...but it seemed she was to lose out on that experience, too. Undoubtedly, Mr. Parker would have an investigation run, but knowing Mr. Raines it would probably twist in Brigitte's favor. She thought of how her mother had died, valiantly trying to save the lives of others. How did she compare? The world seemed unreal to her. She heard the shot and had time for only one thought: Jarod would never know... Something zipped past her ear.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" this superhuman cry ripped through the air, seeming to come from in front, behind, from all sides of her. She heard the second report. Her body flinched preparing for the impact. Then, she saw a man's body jumping into the air, blocking her own from the bullet that was whizzing towards it's mark. There was a loud clang of metal and then, the man fell backwards towards the ground. It just barely registered in her mind, that her intended murderer gave a cry of pain and slumped to the ground, dropping the deadly weapon. The dented lid of a metal trash can spun out of the man's grasp and slid across the cement. His whole right side and his head smacked the pavement hard. She looked at the body lying on the pavement and gasped.
It was Jarod.
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Jarod had rushed across the rooftops, going back over his escape route from the dead end alleyway. He had reached the roof of the brick building and looked down from overhead just in time to see that Brigitte had slunk up behind Miss Parker and hit her in the small of the back with a blunt object. Miss Parker collapsed to the ground. He didn't wait to see more. He rushed inside the building and down the stairs, heart pumping smoothly for he had grown accustomed to running. He reached the level that he needed and ran to the open window and climbed out onto the fire escape. His fleeting glance below showed that Brigitte now had Miss Parker's gun and was cocking it towards her, which only served to speed his impetuous. Snatches of the conversation floated up to him, but he paid no heed. I respect Jarod's abilities. Ran into your Pretender. Stole your gun. Fired at us. Prove FATAL! Rocks to pull the trigger. Down, down, down, he ran. His mouth went dry. He finally reached the end of the fire escape and leapt the rest of the way to the pavement accurately landing on his feet.
His breath now came to him in short gasps and he realized neither of the women had noticed his entrance upon the scene. The adrenaline was pulsing through him. He looked to the left and saw Brigitte's hand about to pull the trigger. There was no time to think, only to do. But do what? She would fire upon him the second she saw him. He grabbed the nearest thing handy. A trash can lid. Then, he heard the shot. A cry ripped from him and he launched himself forward into the line of fire. The second bullet left the gun and he knew if his leap was a second off, instead of being deflected, the charge would rip into his flesh. Either way he knew, he would block the bullet and Miss Parker would be safe. It struck the lid of the trash can he held up as a shield and ricocheted off, whizzing back towards Brigitte and striking her. From the corner of his eye, he saw the cleaner fall before he himself impacted the pavement. But Miss Parker was alive!
"Jarod! Are you hurt?" asked a woman's voice. The question floated above his head. It was a voice that was familiar though he caught the impression the concern in it was normally foreign to the speaker. Jarod shook his head trying to clear the haziness away from his eyes, but this only served to increase his headache. He took up his pretender skills and echoed the question back to himself. Was he hurt? He analyzed his symptoms. "No," he heard his own voice replying. "Nothing serious, just the shock." His vision cleared and he saw Miss Parker standing over him. "It'll pass," Jarod ended his explanation.
Miss Parker looked down at Jarod and nodded. Then, Jarod flexed painfully, trying to regain his faculties and the same time asking, "Is she...dead?" The tone of fear in his voice was surprising to Miss Parker. She was used to the Jarod who teased her, who left behind frustrating clues and taunting gifts, who predicted what she was going to do next. But not this Jarod, laying momentarily helpless on the ground. She went over to Brigitte and kneeled down, reclaiming her gun which was also lying a few inches from the cleaner. She saw Brigitte still breathed. She returned to Jarod's side.
"She's alive," Miss Parker said. Jarod breathed in relief. Miss Parker looked at the gun in her hands. Her dream had come true. She had Jarod right where she wanted him, but--
"Did you find anything on Igor?" Jarod's question broke through her thoughts. Miss Parker watched as Jarod began to sit up, clutching his right arm. Igor! In all this excitement, she had almost forgotten. This Igor, as Jarod had taken to calling him, was someone her mother had known. He holds the key to both our pasts, she remembered Jarod had told her. Just like Boy Wonder to bring up something like this now. The sweeper teams must have returned to the car. If anyone had been near and heard the shots, they would have been here by now.
"No, Jarod," she replied, gripping her gun tighter as Jarod stood up to his full height. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her nerves steady. "He remains a mystery. Like my mother." Why did everything about Jarod never make any sense? Why did it always have to be so confusing? A small movement from Brigitte distracted her. "I have bigger problems right now, Jarod. I need to call a Med team. They'll know it was my gun once an examination begins. How am I going to explain this?"
"Just tell the truth," Jarod offered, smiling at her and the gun. "That she took your gun and shot at you, but I deflected the bullet and it hit her. It's simple."
"It's not that simple, Jarod. If I tell them you did it, every operative in the Centre will be authorized to shoot to kill you. I'm the only one authorized to do that!" she stated, emphatically. "And if I tell the truth," Miss Parker paused. She dropped her eyes, not wanting to look at him. "They'll know I let you get away. I owe you my life. And I always pay my debts."
Jarod slid a finger under her chin to get her to look at him and said, "Come with me?" At his words, a warm feeling ebbed inside her heart, warming her whole being, melting the ice. He still welcomed her company, after all she had done to him? She recalled Sydney's words, about how she and Jarod and others whose lives were shaped by the Centre really weren't that different. Suddenly, she was inclined to agree. He was a Pretender. He could be anyone he wanted to be. The next thoughts entered her mind of their own accord. In a way, she was a pretender, too. The only difference was she was pretending to be something she was not. She envied his freedom to choose. Gently, she pushed his finger away.
"Life's not simple, Jarod. My life's complicated. I work for the Centre."
"Then, free yourself, Miss Parker," Jarod replied, steadily. His words were meant to be a challenge, but they were accompanied by a tone of hope.
So that's what Jarod's call had meant, Miss Parker thought rapidly. Jarod had been comparing the control and destruction in supporting her smoking habit to that of the control and destruction caused by working for the Centre!
"I can't," Miss Parker replied. There was disappointment in his eyes. She wished she could make him understand. She pulled out the lighter she still carried. "Here's an analogy for you." Flick. Hsst! The flame leapt up from her lighter. "Anything to do with the Centre is like playing with fire. And so is anything to do with me...I'm part of the Centre," she explained, bitterly. She tossed the lighter towards the ground where some garbage lay. The flames began to catch quickly starting a small blaze and acrid smoke drifted towards them. "Fire turns on you, suddenly. Without warning--it can kill you." She emphasized the last four words with a tone of finality.
Jarod kicked the trash aside and the flames subsided. He rescued her lighter and moved towards her, saying, "Fire also has the power to give out a warm glow. It offers safety." He slipped the lighter into her free hand, the one which did not hold the gun, still speaking softly, "In the freezing cold," he gave her a winning smile. "It can save your life!"
"What are you doing?" asked Miss Parker, suddenly realizing Jarod was uncomfortably close.
"Showing you I haven't forgotten the gift you gave me, so long ago," Jarod whispered and, before she could protest, he kissed her, sweetly, briefly, tenderly.
She was startled. She felt her heart beating rapidly. Her guard had been momentarily thrown off. As Jarod backed away, she realized he was holding her gun. He had disarmed her!
As Jarod alighted to the fire escape, he called down to her. "They can't examine what they don't have! I'll take good care of it for you, until it's safe to return it." As he ran up a few more flights, Jarod paused once more and called down again, grinning widely, "You can fight it if you want, but I'm going to do everything in my power to help you!" Laughter floated down to her ears. "Catch me if you can!"
Thus, the Pretender disappeared over the rooftops, leaving Miss Parker for once, absolutely speechless. He was gone. She pulled out her cellular phone and called the medical team, feeling as if nothing in this world was going to make sense ever again. She wanted to laugh, cry, scream--all at the same time.
Then, reality hit. She stepped over to Brigitte who had at last stirred to life.
Miss Parker stooped and pulled Brigitte's pistol out. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't..."
The cleaner smiled weakly and answered with a question. "Who ordered your death, luv?"
Who indeed? Miss Parker thought. She ought to have known Brigitte was following orders. "Good answer." Miss Parker dropped the pistol and went to meet the medical team. It was best to keep the enemies one knew.
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SEVERAL DAYS LATER...
Sub-Level Five, Tech Room
The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware
"Well," Broots said, for he loved reading reports. "Brigitte got through her surgery fine. No vital organs hit. The bullet was removed." Broots dropped the report and began to look nervous. "Which means--she'll be back."
Miss Parker laughed from the corner of the room where she was sitting and asked, "How was the field trip, Broots?"
"Oh, it was great! Debbie loved it. Thanks." Broots was all smiles.
Sydney looked at her. "Sometimes we only remember what we want to, Miss Parker," Sydney said. He felt that Miss Parker had been acting strangely since they had returned from Kentucky. "Are you certain that..."
"Listen, Freud," Miss Parker replied, acutely. "If I had shot Brigitte, she'd be dead."
"There's really no way to tell one way or the other with your gun missing and all," Broots said, absently. He watched to see Miss Parker's reaction and was surprised when she seemed totally unconcerned. "Brigitte claims to remember nothing, except that she nearly captured Jarod. I don't know about that," Broots scratched his head. "I mean, when I met him, it was like...like I was meeting a Phantom, a legend a..."
"Jarod's real." Miss Parker smiled. She stood up, and patted Broots reassuringly on the shoulder. Then, she crossed her arms and strolled from the room, saying determinedly as she left, "No one's going to capture my Pretender, but me!"
Broots and Sydney exchanged bewildered glances in stunned amazement. Would wonders never cease!
"Uh, Sydney," Broots said in hushed tones. "Did you hear that? Do you think the stress of this job is finally getting to her?"
Sydney rubbed his chin thoughtfully, shook his head, and finally shrugged. But sometimes, he wondered....
THE END (Here's your chance, tell the author what you thought!)
by Leah
Written in 1998
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"You kicked the habit. It was something you'd had for so long, that you thought you needed it. It controlled you, while at the same time destroying you and now you're free of it. Look inside. Free yourself, Miss Parker." Click. Miss Parker hung up before the dial tone could come on. What was Jarod talking about now? She was still groggy from sleep and wondered why it was Jarod always seemed to contact her when she was at her most relaxed moments. Out of habit, she reached over to her night stand but came up empty. Then, she realized it. Boy Wonder was talking about the fact that she had quit smoking.
Or was he? And how did he know?
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"I don't think so, Sydney." Broots shook his head. "You know how she's been lately."
Sydney agreed, "Rather on a short fuse....Why don't you ask her, Broots?"
"Ask me what?" Miss Parker said, strolling into the tech room. Her hands were full of recent reports on Jarod's whereabouts and she flipped through them.
"Um...it's really nothing, Miss Parker," Broots replied, beginning to sweat. "Well...I don't mean nothing. It is something," he rambled on, pulling at his collar. "It's just...Well." Broots put both of his hands together in a pleading posture. "There's a school field trip today and I promised Debbie that I would go. She's really counting on me being there and it's all day and," he gulped. "It starts in an hour."
Through all of this Miss Parker did not even look at Broots. She continued flipping through her folder of reports and Broots was not entirely sure she had heard a word of it.
"Broots!" Miss Parker said, so suddenly that he jumped. "Get out of my sight!"
"Oh, thank you! Thank you," Broots said, nearly groveling as he headed for the door.
Miss Parker called out the door after him for the benefit for all to hear. "And if I catch you around or anywhere near the Centre today, your head will roll!"
"That was very kind of you, Miss Parker," Sydney observed. "As you can see, Broots appreciated it."
Miss Parker watched Broots' back disappearing down the hall. Then, she turned to Sydney with a pleased smile and an innocent look, "Kind? I don't know what you mean, Syd." She pushed the folder of reports at Sydney. "Let's get to work."
By lunchtime, Miss Parker was still thinking of the words Jarod had said in his phone call of the night before. She went over them again and again in her mind, looking for a hidden clue. Finally, at her wit's end, she asked Sydney about it. After all, if anyone would know what Jarod meant, it would have to be Sydney.
"Jarod is fond of using analogies," Sydney explained. "He makes connections comparing one thing to another as I'm sure you're aware."
Miss Parker thought of the time in Florida when Jarod had compared the meanest alligator to her and replied, "I'm aware of it alright."
"Do you mind if we continue this later?" Sydney asked, checking his watch. "Although, you're welcome to join me."
Miss Parker shook her head and Sydney headed to lunch. She walked to her office to take the medicine that had been prescribed for her ulcer and thought over the events of the past few weeks. The pressure on her had been greater since Brigitte and Mr. Lyle (who knew where Lyle'd disappeared to?!) had come, but especially great because of her father. Mr. Parker did not totally trust her as he once had and, though she would never have admitted it, that hurt.
Her mind flashed back to only a few weeks before, when her father and Mr. Raines had plotted to steal ten million dollars from Mr. Lyle. Through several manipulations, they had used her as a pawn to carry out their plan. Her mind went back to the conversation she had had with her father, in the infirmary, when she had first found out that he was behind the plan.
"I apologize for the secrecy, but is was important you believed exactly what you believed," her father had patronized, unashamedly.
"And all that stuff about a younger lion. That was all part of it?" she questioned, pacing to and fro. She was floored. How could he have not told her about this?
Mr. Parker had an answer for everything. "For your own protection."
"And the money?" Miss Parker had asked.
He answered the question, calmly. She sighed then, and had asked in bewilderment, "Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"
"Well considering everything that happened, I didn't think you'd trust me," Mr. Parker had responded. She had spent a long time thinking about that afterwards.
There was a tapping on the side of the open door. Miss Parker looked around to see Brigitte peeking in at her. She caught the feeling the cleaner had been studying her for several seconds before making her presence known. The blonde's bangs were annoyingly curled over the eyes which were accented by the overabundant blue eye shadow. And between Brigitte's lips, as usual, a lollipop stick protruded.
"What brings you here?" Miss Parker asked, making no effort to hide the displeasure in voice. Brigitte had not been visible for the past several weeks, but Miss Parker knew that didn't mean the cleaner hadn't been keeping an eye on her. Brigitte was her assigned watch dog and Miss Parker had accepted the situation the same way a cat accepts the existence of fleas. Brigitte existed, but that didn't mean Miss Parker had to like her...or even make the pretense of doing so.
Brigitte understood her and smiled to herself. She pulled the sucker from her mouth and gestured with it. She always did enjoy annoying her rival. "It was necessary," she replied. "To inform you. We are going to Kentucky."
Kentucky, Miss Parker groaned inwardly. The last time she had been in Kentucky was May of 1997. She had gone to Louisville alone, following a tip from one of Jarod's calls. He had stranded her car, eluded capture--she couldn't very well pull a gun on him in a woods full of picnickers--and thrown her cigarettes into a bon fire. It was there she had made The Deal with him. He would give her information on her mother's death, while she would provide him with information about his family. She had no desire to relive that humiliating experience--especially not with the added burden of Brigitte.
"Actually informing me? My, how your standards change! And is Franken Boy in Kentucky?" This better not be an investigation on my solitary trip there, Miss Parker thought, darkly.
"Difficult to tell with Mr. Broots gone, isn't it?" Brigitte shrugged. But she dared not linger on that particular subject, still apparently remembering Miss Parker's warnings about messing with her team. "It remains to be seen. See you there." Brigitte slinked away.
Miss Parker picked up her phone. "Sydney? Get back here," she said, firmly. "We have an assignment and I don't want the Amateur trying to start without us." Well, Miss Parker breathed, still thinking to herself. She had to work with Brigitte, but at least she didn't have to travel with her....only beat her to the destination.
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KENTUCKY
"So," Jarod asked, the girl working the concession stand, "Why is it that people are so willing to pay these high prices for movie popcorn when this is something they could make at home?" He gave her a friendly smile.
"Well," replied the girl, giving Jarod a wondering look. "Guess it's cuz the rules say you can't bring your own food to the movies."
"Oh, I see," said Jarod. "So the whole system is set up so that people who come to see the movies end up having to pay twice as much for snack foods that they could get for one-third of the price they pay if they just bought them at the store and ate them at home?"
"That's about the size of it," she drawled. "But most folks don't seem to mind, 'sides popcorn at the show's just," she shrugged, trying to explain. "Tastes better. We pop it fresh. So you buying or just yakking?"
"Sure," said Jarod, good-naturedly. "How much popcorn will this buy?" He threw down a twenty-dollar bill.
The girl gave him an amazed look. "All popcorn? Just for you, mister?" she asked. "Four large buckets." She whistled.
"That's about the size of it," Jarod drawled. "But can I get it in a bag to go, instead of a bucket? I'm kind of in a hurry."
Jarod made his purchase and the girl shook her head in disbelief over the man who had bought four large buckets of popcorn, but hadn't stayed to watch a single movie.
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Jarod had good reason to be hurried. Having stepped by that local news camera, the day before, he was expecting company would be joining him soon. He knew some sharp eye at the Centre would likely catch it, so it was best to stay alert.
Jarod, from his roost atop a building, looked down from his vantage point and grinned boyishly. He put his hand in a paper bag and pulled out another handful of buttery popcorn. He had doubled back on his pursuers and now he was behind them. As he looked below, he saw Miss Parker run past, followed by several sweepers. They fanned out through the area then, halted and regrouped at a four-way crossing. He could see that she was shouting directions at them, ordering half to the right and half to the left. They scattered. Miss Parker herself, drew her gun and forged straight ahead. Then she rounded the right corner of a building and left his sight. Jarod ate another handful of popcorn, simply enjoying the live action. He admired her persistence. He knew that the route she had taken led to a dead end alleyway and unless she thought of climbing the fire escape (as he had done in order to double back undetected) she would soon reappear.
Another movement along with the flash of a metallic-colored suit below distracted his attention. He recognized the woman moving below as the cleaner, Brigitte. He was not surprised to see her, but there was something in her movements that struck him as suspicious. She did not seem to be involved in his chase, although doubtless she was keeping an eye out for him. She was walking slowly and deliberately, and when she reached the four-way, she paused. Two sweepers ran back into sight, the ones Miss Parker had sent to the left, evidently returning empty-handed. He could see the blonde woman approach and consult with them. This lasted only two minutes, then the sweepers headed back in the direction from which Brigitte had come. The cleaner walked onwards, going in the same direction Miss Parker had taken. Jarod stopped eating the popcorn. He shook his head. Something about this did not feel right. He left his perch, headed over the rooftops, back in the direction from whence he'd come.
Dead end, Miss Parker thought. But so what if she had run into it? Wasn't it likely that Boy Wonder had too? Hey, he couldn't be that smart all the time. She looked around the alley, there were trash cans lining the tall brick buildings on both sides of it. The brown fence that impeded her path looked insurmountable--even for Jarod. She sighed.
WHACK! Stars swam before her eyes. She looked down and saw the pavement was moving towards her. Then, blackness.
When Miss Parker opened her eyes again, the first thing her fingers did was grip. They grasped nothing. Her gun was gone. The daylight hadn't changed much, she could only have been unconscious for several seconds.
"Looking for this, luv?" a British voice asked in a pleased manner.
Miss Parker stood up slowly and turned to see Brigitte, holding Miss Parker's very own 9mm in a gloved hand. It was aimed directly at her head.
"Not my style," Brigitte said. "But I suppose it'll have to do. Well, Parker, I'm glad you shall be awake for your untimely demise." Miss Parker opened her mouth to shout for the sweepers, but Brigitte caught the action. Click. She took off the safety and warned, "I wouldn't try that, luv! I'll shoot before anyone will ever reach you."
Miss Parker fell silent as a statue. She felt cold and dead inside. Totally detached from her emotions. She had become the Ice Queen. "What's the matter, Brigitte?" she spoke suddenly. "Couldn't take the heat?" It felt good to talk. She no longer felt any pain. She stared at the glinting gun and felt no fear, no anger. Only bitterness. Her heart had grown numb. Miss Parker continued rashly, "I know Jarod and you don't. I've been on this chase from the beginning and now you feel the need to eliminate the competition. I'm too much for you, eh?"
"On the contrary, luv. I have an advantage in not knowing the man. I can maintain my distance in the matter. He does not know me and thus cannot predict what I will do, as is often the case in your encounters with 'im. I will do something unexpected...the element of surprise is on my side."
"Surprise, but not time," Miss Parker smirked. "How many miles do you think he's run while you were wasting the time standing here?" Miss Parker didn't care anymore. She felt nothing. It was as if she were frozen inside. "I respect Jarod's abilities. I know what I'm dealing with, which is more than I can say for you."
"I know the consequences of my actions quite well. We ran into your Pretender. He stole your gun and fired it at us. You were hit. There was nothing I could do. He often wears gloves, doesn't he, luv? Which accounts for no fingerprints." Brigitte gave her a calculating gaze, then took several steps backward preparing to fire. "Your main disadvantage is that you know Jarod too well," Brigitte continued, squinting. She grinned impishly and began to repeat Miss Parker's own words back at her, "Jarod's not just a man, he's a pretender. A human chameleon, a genius who can literally become anyone he wants to be, I believe those were your exact words. You are too close to your subject and I even would go so far as to believe there is a childish infatuation with 'im. I've seen this sort of weakness before. Pursuer's sympathy, I call it. You begin to relate to the feelings of your intended prey, even develop admiration for it...begin to feel that you share a common bond. Which quite frankly for you, Parker, will prove fatal. Don't believe I 'ave 'the rocks' to pull the trigger? We'll find out presently, won't we luv?"
Miss Parker flashed Brigitte one of her killer looks. "Go ahead. I dare you!" She felt Brigitte was a coward, but then a saying came uncomfortably to mind. Only cowards need guns. This might be the end. She had heard that those facing death had their whole lives flash before their eyes...but it seemed she was to lose out on that experience, too. Undoubtedly, Mr. Parker would have an investigation run, but knowing Mr. Raines it would probably twist in Brigitte's favor. She thought of how her mother had died, valiantly trying to save the lives of others. How did she compare? The world seemed unreal to her. She heard the shot and had time for only one thought: Jarod would never know... Something zipped past her ear.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" this superhuman cry ripped through the air, seeming to come from in front, behind, from all sides of her. She heard the second report. Her body flinched preparing for the impact. Then, she saw a man's body jumping into the air, blocking her own from the bullet that was whizzing towards it's mark. There was a loud clang of metal and then, the man fell backwards towards the ground. It just barely registered in her mind, that her intended murderer gave a cry of pain and slumped to the ground, dropping the deadly weapon. The dented lid of a metal trash can spun out of the man's grasp and slid across the cement. His whole right side and his head smacked the pavement hard. She looked at the body lying on the pavement and gasped.
It was Jarod.
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Jarod had rushed across the rooftops, going back over his escape route from the dead end alleyway. He had reached the roof of the brick building and looked down from overhead just in time to see that Brigitte had slunk up behind Miss Parker and hit her in the small of the back with a blunt object. Miss Parker collapsed to the ground. He didn't wait to see more. He rushed inside the building and down the stairs, heart pumping smoothly for he had grown accustomed to running. He reached the level that he needed and ran to the open window and climbed out onto the fire escape. His fleeting glance below showed that Brigitte now had Miss Parker's gun and was cocking it towards her, which only served to speed his impetuous. Snatches of the conversation floated up to him, but he paid no heed. I respect Jarod's abilities. Ran into your Pretender. Stole your gun. Fired at us. Prove FATAL! Rocks to pull the trigger. Down, down, down, he ran. His mouth went dry. He finally reached the end of the fire escape and leapt the rest of the way to the pavement accurately landing on his feet.
His breath now came to him in short gasps and he realized neither of the women had noticed his entrance upon the scene. The adrenaline was pulsing through him. He looked to the left and saw Brigitte's hand about to pull the trigger. There was no time to think, only to do. But do what? She would fire upon him the second she saw him. He grabbed the nearest thing handy. A trash can lid. Then, he heard the shot. A cry ripped from him and he launched himself forward into the line of fire. The second bullet left the gun and he knew if his leap was a second off, instead of being deflected, the charge would rip into his flesh. Either way he knew, he would block the bullet and Miss Parker would be safe. It struck the lid of the trash can he held up as a shield and ricocheted off, whizzing back towards Brigitte and striking her. From the corner of his eye, he saw the cleaner fall before he himself impacted the pavement. But Miss Parker was alive!
"Jarod! Are you hurt?" asked a woman's voice. The question floated above his head. It was a voice that was familiar though he caught the impression the concern in it was normally foreign to the speaker. Jarod shook his head trying to clear the haziness away from his eyes, but this only served to increase his headache. He took up his pretender skills and echoed the question back to himself. Was he hurt? He analyzed his symptoms. "No," he heard his own voice replying. "Nothing serious, just the shock." His vision cleared and he saw Miss Parker standing over him. "It'll pass," Jarod ended his explanation.
Miss Parker looked down at Jarod and nodded. Then, Jarod flexed painfully, trying to regain his faculties and the same time asking, "Is she...dead?" The tone of fear in his voice was surprising to Miss Parker. She was used to the Jarod who teased her, who left behind frustrating clues and taunting gifts, who predicted what she was going to do next. But not this Jarod, laying momentarily helpless on the ground. She went over to Brigitte and kneeled down, reclaiming her gun which was also lying a few inches from the cleaner. She saw Brigitte still breathed. She returned to Jarod's side.
"She's alive," Miss Parker said. Jarod breathed in relief. Miss Parker looked at the gun in her hands. Her dream had come true. She had Jarod right where she wanted him, but--
"Did you find anything on Igor?" Jarod's question broke through her thoughts. Miss Parker watched as Jarod began to sit up, clutching his right arm. Igor! In all this excitement, she had almost forgotten. This Igor, as Jarod had taken to calling him, was someone her mother had known. He holds the key to both our pasts, she remembered Jarod had told her. Just like Boy Wonder to bring up something like this now. The sweeper teams must have returned to the car. If anyone had been near and heard the shots, they would have been here by now.
"No, Jarod," she replied, gripping her gun tighter as Jarod stood up to his full height. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her nerves steady. "He remains a mystery. Like my mother." Why did everything about Jarod never make any sense? Why did it always have to be so confusing? A small movement from Brigitte distracted her. "I have bigger problems right now, Jarod. I need to call a Med team. They'll know it was my gun once an examination begins. How am I going to explain this?"
"Just tell the truth," Jarod offered, smiling at her and the gun. "That she took your gun and shot at you, but I deflected the bullet and it hit her. It's simple."
"It's not that simple, Jarod. If I tell them you did it, every operative in the Centre will be authorized to shoot to kill you. I'm the only one authorized to do that!" she stated, emphatically. "And if I tell the truth," Miss Parker paused. She dropped her eyes, not wanting to look at him. "They'll know I let you get away. I owe you my life. And I always pay my debts."
Jarod slid a finger under her chin to get her to look at him and said, "Come with me?" At his words, a warm feeling ebbed inside her heart, warming her whole being, melting the ice. He still welcomed her company, after all she had done to him? She recalled Sydney's words, about how she and Jarod and others whose lives were shaped by the Centre really weren't that different. Suddenly, she was inclined to agree. He was a Pretender. He could be anyone he wanted to be. The next thoughts entered her mind of their own accord. In a way, she was a pretender, too. The only difference was she was pretending to be something she was not. She envied his freedom to choose. Gently, she pushed his finger away.
"Life's not simple, Jarod. My life's complicated. I work for the Centre."
"Then, free yourself, Miss Parker," Jarod replied, steadily. His words were meant to be a challenge, but they were accompanied by a tone of hope.
So that's what Jarod's call had meant, Miss Parker thought rapidly. Jarod had been comparing the control and destruction in supporting her smoking habit to that of the control and destruction caused by working for the Centre!
"I can't," Miss Parker replied. There was disappointment in his eyes. She wished she could make him understand. She pulled out the lighter she still carried. "Here's an analogy for you." Flick. Hsst! The flame leapt up from her lighter. "Anything to do with the Centre is like playing with fire. And so is anything to do with me...I'm part of the Centre," she explained, bitterly. She tossed the lighter towards the ground where some garbage lay. The flames began to catch quickly starting a small blaze and acrid smoke drifted towards them. "Fire turns on you, suddenly. Without warning--it can kill you." She emphasized the last four words with a tone of finality.
Jarod kicked the trash aside and the flames subsided. He rescued her lighter and moved towards her, saying, "Fire also has the power to give out a warm glow. It offers safety." He slipped the lighter into her free hand, the one which did not hold the gun, still speaking softly, "In the freezing cold," he gave her a winning smile. "It can save your life!"
"What are you doing?" asked Miss Parker, suddenly realizing Jarod was uncomfortably close.
"Showing you I haven't forgotten the gift you gave me, so long ago," Jarod whispered and, before she could protest, he kissed her, sweetly, briefly, tenderly.
She was startled. She felt her heart beating rapidly. Her guard had been momentarily thrown off. As Jarod backed away, she realized he was holding her gun. He had disarmed her!
As Jarod alighted to the fire escape, he called down to her. "They can't examine what they don't have! I'll take good care of it for you, until it's safe to return it." As he ran up a few more flights, Jarod paused once more and called down again, grinning widely, "You can fight it if you want, but I'm going to do everything in my power to help you!" Laughter floated down to her ears. "Catch me if you can!"
Thus, the Pretender disappeared over the rooftops, leaving Miss Parker for once, absolutely speechless. He was gone. She pulled out her cellular phone and called the medical team, feeling as if nothing in this world was going to make sense ever again. She wanted to laugh, cry, scream--all at the same time.
Then, reality hit. She stepped over to Brigitte who had at last stirred to life.
Miss Parker stooped and pulled Brigitte's pistol out. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't..."
The cleaner smiled weakly and answered with a question. "Who ordered your death, luv?"
Who indeed? Miss Parker thought. She ought to have known Brigitte was following orders. "Good answer." Miss Parker dropped the pistol and went to meet the medical team. It was best to keep the enemies one knew.
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SEVERAL DAYS LATER...
Sub-Level Five, Tech Room
The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware
"Well," Broots said, for he loved reading reports. "Brigitte got through her surgery fine. No vital organs hit. The bullet was removed." Broots dropped the report and began to look nervous. "Which means--she'll be back."
Miss Parker laughed from the corner of the room where she was sitting and asked, "How was the field trip, Broots?"
"Oh, it was great! Debbie loved it. Thanks." Broots was all smiles.
Sydney looked at her. "Sometimes we only remember what we want to, Miss Parker," Sydney said. He felt that Miss Parker had been acting strangely since they had returned from Kentucky. "Are you certain that..."
"Listen, Freud," Miss Parker replied, acutely. "If I had shot Brigitte, she'd be dead."
"There's really no way to tell one way or the other with your gun missing and all," Broots said, absently. He watched to see Miss Parker's reaction and was surprised when she seemed totally unconcerned. "Brigitte claims to remember nothing, except that she nearly captured Jarod. I don't know about that," Broots scratched his head. "I mean, when I met him, it was like...like I was meeting a Phantom, a legend a..."
"Jarod's real." Miss Parker smiled. She stood up, and patted Broots reassuringly on the shoulder. Then, she crossed her arms and strolled from the room, saying determinedly as she left, "No one's going to capture my Pretender, but me!"
Broots and Sydney exchanged bewildered glances in stunned amazement. Would wonders never cease!
"Uh, Sydney," Broots said in hushed tones. "Did you hear that? Do you think the stress of this job is finally getting to her?"
Sydney rubbed his chin thoughtfully, shook his head, and finally shrugged. But sometimes, he wondered....
THE END (Here's your chance, tell the author what you thought!)
