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Chapter 1: The Seventh Member

“Where's the real life in your illusion? On the dark side of power and confusion…” -Duran Duran “Vertigo”
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Hrrrrrrrrrnnnnnn! It seemed as though every vehicle in the decided to blast their horns in unison. Traffic was backed up for block and the foot traffic wasn’t any lighter. The City was shutdown in gridlock.

At DT-UT on 2nd Avenue, the unrelenting flow of customers was responsible for the controlled chaos inside the coffee shop.

She was expertly weaving her way through the crowd when he first saw her. She was a beauty no doubt causing men’s heads to turn as she passed by. She was petite and lithe with her scarlet tresses wound up in a topknot. Every so often she blew stray strands out of her gray eyes.

He was sitting in a secluded corner fascinated by the graham crackers and marshmallows he held in his hands when she approached his table. The DT-UT was known for their build-your-s’mores, but this guy looked as though he was unsure of what to do with the s’more parts.

“The chocolate and marshmallows are supposed to go between the graham crackers,” she told him with guarded look. She took the streaming hot espresso from her tray and set it in front of him.

He smiled up at her.

“I see,” he said, doing as she had instructed. “Thank you,” he glanced at her nametag. “Mia.”

She gave him a bemused smile, brushed the crimson locks from her eyes, and left him to construct his s’more.

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“So who exactly is this seventh member?”

Mr. Parker frowned at the young man standing in front of him. He shuffled the papers in his hands and decidedly ignored the question.

The office door swung open and slammed shut, heralding the arrival of Mr. Parker’s daughter.

“What’d you want to see me about, Daddy?” Miss Parker took a position in front of her father’s desk and folded her arms over her stomach. She shot a disgusted look at the young man. He returned her gaze with a smirk.

“What’s he doing here?” she spat impatiently.

“Now, Angel,” Mr. Parker chided, rising from his seat. “Your brother has every right to be here. I need you both.”

“Dad was just telling me about a Seventh Member that the Triumvirate wants brought in,” Mr. Lyle snidely informed his sister.

“Who is this Seventh Member?” Miss Parker demanded, turning her attention to her father.

Mr. Parker cleared his throat. “It’s imperative that the Seventh Member is located and brought in ASAP.”

“He wouldn’t explain it to me either,” Mr. Lyle breathed.

Miss Parker shot him a dark glare. “Shut up!” she hissed.

If he heard them, Mr. Parker ignored it. “The nature of her connection with the Centre is highly sensitive. You,” he looked pointedly at Lyle, “will operate on a need to know basis.”

“What can we know?” Miss Parker was growing impatiently and was eager for her father to get to the point. She had other things to do.

“Her name is Amelia,” Mr. Parker began, leaning against the desk. “She’s twenty-two, lives alone in an apartment, works in Manhattan, attends NYU. Her father is in prison, mother is an a mental institution, has two siblings whose whereabouts are unknown.”

“What a Girl Scout,” Lyle sneered. His attitude changed quickly- it was obvious that he no longer considered the mission serious.

Mr. Parker shot his son an annoyed glare, much to Miss Parker’s delight.

“What’s she to do with the Centre?” Miss Parker pressed the question once more.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Parker dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand.

“So now what?” Miss Parker put her hands on her hips. “You’re not going to put Lyle on Jarod’s case while I go get this Amelia are you?”

Mr. Parker studied her face for a moment before answering.

“No,” he said brusquely. Lyle looked disappointed. “He is assigned to the Seventh Member Project. You are to stay on Jarod.”

Miss Parker’s jaw dropped. Lyle was always the one handed the choice projects- she was beginning to think the hunt for Jarod was just to keep her busy while her father and brother conspired with the Centre on God only knew what. She closed her mouth and let the expression on her face tell Mr. Parker how displeased she was.

“Come on, Angel,” Mr. Parker cooed when he saw the look on her face. “We need Jarod just as much as we need the Seventh Member. I need my best girl on Jarod’s tail.”

Miss Parker rolled her eyes to the ceiling. There he went again trying to appease her with flattery. With one last contemptuous look thrown at Lyle, Miss Parker spun on her spiked heel and stormed from the room.

Lyle didn’t bother to suppress a snicker as he watched her go. He turned to her father. The smile on his face faded when he saw the severe expression on Mr. Parker’s visage. Mr. Parker opened a drawer on the side of his desk and pulled out a red folder. He placed it on the desktop and slid it across to Lyle.

“This is the file on the Seventh Member,” he told Lyle. He glared at the impudent and arrogant man before him.

“This won’t be the cakewalk that you think it will be…you’d better tow the line on this line, Lyle. Don’t screw it up.”

Lyle seemed momentarily taken aback by the threat. “I won’t,” he snapped, jerking the file off of the desk. “You’ll remember that I’m not the one who’s been chasing the same Pretender for years!”

“You didn’t exactly get the job done when you were assigned to the Pretender case. Watch your step, boy.”

It was the last thing Lyle heard before he left Mr. Parker’s office.
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“Blurring and stirring, the truth and the lies, so I don't know what's real and what's not… Always confusing- the thoughts in my head so I can't trust myself anymore… I'm dying again…”

He paced the floor, his heart racing and pounding in his ears. The walls of the gray room seemed to be closing in on him. Paranoia crept up his spine, threatening to overcome him, choke him, kill him. Kill him- death- dead. That’s what they wanted- they wanted him dead. Who were they? It didn’t matter. They wanted his life.

He backed into one of the gray walls and crumpled to the floor in a pathetic heap. No, no, no… He knew nothing that would make him a threat. They didn’t need to kill him…No, no, no…they would… they would because he knew everything…everything and nothing all at once.

Kill, kill, kill, kill! It was the same horrid chant that he had heard all of his life. Kill, kill, kill, kill!

Why was it still haunting him? Kill, kill, kill, kill! He slammed his hands over his ears, desperately and vainly trying to shut out the voices and their terrible chant.

Kill, kill, kill, kill!

Tears flooded down his cheeks as he dissolved into a sobbing mess. Make it stop! I don’t want to do this anymore!

But the voices did not stop. They grew louder.

Kill, kill, kill, kill!









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