Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Lyrics by Duran Duran
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“No- no- notorious!
I can't read about it, burns the skin from your eyes… I'll do fine without it- here's one you don't compromise...Lies come hard to disguise- let me to fight it out, not wild about it…Lay your seedy judgments, who says they're part of our lives?
She awoke with a sudden, heart-stopping start. She wasn’t sure what caused her to wake so violently, but something did and it was causing her stomach to churn.
A lone shaft of light stole into the room from a crack in the blinds. Mia blinked.
While attempting to calm her rapidly thumping heart, she scanned the room. Panic seized her again- she was in the bedroom sitting on the expansive bed with no recollection as to how she got there. Her last memory was of falling asleep on the couch in the sitting room.
She wanted to move, to run- but fear had paralyzed her limbs, trapping her on the bed. Her greatest fear was that she had suffered another blackout- though it must have been a brief one, unlike the typical ones she normally suffered. Such knowledge did little to ease her frazzled nerves.
Her mind, desperate to comprehend the reason for missing time, reeled in the quest for an explanation.
Lyle. The name floated through her discombobulated thoughts… Lyle…
Lyle!
A sudden thought occurred to her and panicked her all the more. Fearfully, she turned and looked at the other side of the king bed.
It was smooth and untouched.
She let out the breath she had been holding with a moan of relief. She collapsed against the headboard.
However, curiosity as to what had become of her mysterious companion…it would not surprise her at all to find that he, like most people, had left her.
Much to her delight, she discovered him asleep on the couch in the sitting room with his body dangling at a peculiar angle. He was scrunched up at one end of the sofa with his arms tightly entwined over his stomach and his head suspended off of the cushion in an excruciating position.
He awoke abruptly to find that all the furniture in the suite had been inverted.
What the-!
He looked up to discover that he was nose to nose with the carpet. His eyes re-closed and a groan of puzzlement and pain escaped his lips.
I can’t believe I spent the night on the couch!
He hauled himself into an upright position.
I should have left her where she was!
Rubbing his temples, he mumbled in aggravated tones. He was not a morning person.
A gentle breathing made him opens his eyes again. He now found himself nose-to-nose with Mia. Instinctively, he pulled away from her and stood up hastily.
He hated how she stared at him with those eyes!
“Are you all right?”
He turned towards her, a hand still plastered to his forehead.
“Do I look all right?” he snapped in growl. The stricken look on her face was more than he could stand.
“Go get dressed!” he commanded coldly, turning his back on her.
“But I don’t have anything to wear,” she informed him dolefully.
“Closet,” he retorted, keeping his back to her. With a flick of his wrist, he indicated to the bedroom. “Go.”
You own the money, you control the witness…
She was, truly, a sensitive child and it upset her terribly that she had angered him. She wanted to set things right, but felt it prudent to obey him. Besides, she wanted to please him, to gain his approval as there was something wonderful and terrifying about him, all at the same time.
The once empty closet was now held several articles of very fine clothing- the type of clothing that she would stare at for hours in the windows of Barneys. Timidly, she reached out a finger and let it trail down the length of a black Italian cashmere zip jacket. A pair of expensive “skinny” jeans- the kind models wore- lay folded neatly on the bottom shelf with a pair of black leather Prada boots next to them.
If she hadn’t put him in such a foul mood, Mia would have immediately protested his wasting money on her. So instead, she dressed in silence, very astonished to find that the clothes fit perfectly. She was so used to wearing ill-fitting clothes, she found that fitted clothing felt a little odd and took some getting used. She was reluctant to admit, even to herself, that she was thrilled with wearing such posh attire and having someone like him to buy them for her.
I’ll leave you lonely - don't monkey with my business…
He waited impatiently for her, pacing the floor like a caged animal. He was restless, eager to move on. Several things gnawed at him concerning their current predicament and below those concerns were more, less specific, creatures hissing and clawing at him- suspicions that continually preyed on his mind and nerves.
After an eternity, she took a timid step into the drawing room as though she were in the wrong place or even the wrong time- she looked indelibly lost.
“Turn,” he ordered stridently, motioning her to turn around. He looked her over with a critical gaze.
She turned, her eyes fastened on him as she obeyed.
“You’ll do,” he said curtly.
The disheartened look on her face made him pause. He pressed his lip together firmly.
“Your clothes finally suit your face,” he finally managed- it was as close to a sincere compliment as he could get.
Her face lit up as she received his endorsement.
Though it was satisfying to see her brighten, it strangely darkened his own mood.
Breakfast had been set up by the concierge by then. Lyle all but pushed her into a seat opposite his place at the head of the table. In morose silence he watched her eat. He took nothing for himself; his appetite had been replaced by a growing unrest and provocation.
Time ticked by- it was nearly eight o’clock. Minutes drifted into oblivion…
He shifted in his chair, his eyes narrowed, and his fingers wrapped around napkin.
She was taking far too long, though there was hardly enough on her plate to satisfy an infant.
The restlessness grew, flooding his veins, and tensing his muscles…he couldn’t take much more…the napkin fell away from his hand in shreds.
WHAM!!! His fist slammed into the mahogany table.
Mia jumped at the noise. Rattled, she stared at Lyle who was standing over the table with fierce scowl. His breathing came in short spurts.
“That’s enough!” he informed her mercilessly. “Get up.”
She stood, wobbling slightly from the abrupt rise. If she had any wisdom she would have been afraid, she would have run- and she might have if it had not been for that peculiar, crazed glint in his eyes.
She knew that look well, but how or why she did not know.
You pay the profits to justify the reasons…. I heard your promise but I don't believe it…. That's why I'll do it again…
A wave of nausea swathed him and his arm that held him away from the table weakened. It was happening again…he could feel it and it was a surreal thing, that feeling of loosing all semblance of sanity. It was never as rapid or as unpleasant as one might assume, but was it was enormously bizarre to be completely aware of one’s psyche unraveling. Once it began, it could not be stopped.
He tried to ward off the inevitable, staggering away from table to look for something stable to hold onto. There was nothing.
From some nether region deep within him, laughter rippled out.
For some reason unbeknownst to her, she knew he was going to fall and was prepared. However, she wasn’t ready for the seizures that shook him.
She was afraid- afraid for him and afraid for her. She had idea what to do. He began to gag and, fearing he might choke, she slid him off of her lap, laying him on his right side. The convulsions increased in intensity. Suddenly, a hand grasped her upper arm with surprising strength considering there was no thumb to aid its grip. He pulled her down to his level, but his eyes would not- or could not- focus on her. She tossed her hair over her shoulder to get it out of the way only to find that his hand had slipped from her arm and his fingers tousled in her tresses.
He grunted something unintelligible. She didn’t understand. He tried again, straining until he was exhausted- he knew what he wanted her to do, but his mouth refused to cooperate.
She yelped in trepidation as he attempted to claw his way across the floor.
The paroxysms were too intense for him to continue. He grabbed hold of her once more. It was no small task but, at length, he was able to convey to her that he wanted his briefcase.
She lugged it over and, on his command, tried to open it. It was locked.
By counting out each number on his fingers, he was able to give her the combination so she could unlock the case. He pointed to a pocket in the lid. She slid her hand in and pulled out the only thing that was in it- a slim black velvet case.
Inside the casing were three slender glass syringes, each filled with an inky solution. He clutched her hand and laid it on the back of his neck, pressing her fingertips into the base of his skull- the place where he wanted her to put the injection.
Trembling, she raised the hypodermic needle to the place where he directed her. She fretted over hurting him- the needle was thick and long. Drawing in a deep breath, she plunged it in, cringing as she did.
His face and body contorted in a silent scream. She couldn’t see that the injection was helping any…he seemed worse.
After a spell, the seizures subsided into demure twitches, and a few minutes later, they too evaporated.
He was now drained of any energy recouped in sleep. With some help from Mia, he was able to sit up as his world normalized.
She let out a gasp of air, feeling weak herself but greatly pleased that he was all right.
Their sense of relief was short-lived.
There was a clicking at the entrance to the suite as though the lock were being picked. Mia moved closer to Lyle, practically hiding behind him. The handle of the door began to turn.
Click…click... click…. clock.
The door slowly swung open.
There were four this time- each an identical replica of the other. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they formed a solid wall that blocked the only exit.
Fools run rings to break up something they'll never destroy…Grand notorious slam, (BAM!) Don't ask me to bleed about it- I need this blood to survive. That's why I'll do it again…
The mounting tension was stifling. Slowly, Lyle rose to his feet, in control once more, and pulled Mia up with him.
“Hello, Mr. Lyle,” said one. “You were rather difficult to find, yes.”
“But you come with us now,” said another.
Their voices were like the buzz of giant bees; there was no distinction in tone, diction, or octave. It was the same voice coming from many different mouths.
He reached for his gun only to find the holster empty. Keeping his gaze steady on the men guarding the door and a grip on Mia, he began backing up until the briefcase was at his feet.
“Get it,” he hissed at her.
As she bent to pick it up, one of the Black Coats stepped forward.
“You are not going to run, Mr. Lyle.”
“Of course not,” he replied in his smoothest timbre. “If you gentlemen will give me a chance to collect my personal belongings, I’ll be right along.”
“The girl, too?”
“Yes, yes,” he snapped irritably. “The girl, too.”
He turned his back on their unsolicited escorts. He was met by Mia’s angry glare.
“What are you doing?!” she demanded. “We don’t know who they are- or at least I don’t.” Her eyes narrowed. She was getting more than a little suspicious. First, he was so eager to get away from them, and now he was going to comply with them just like that? Something wasn’t adding up. “Maybe you do know these goons. Are you working with them? They certainly seem to know you!”
Lyle’s grip on her tightened, cutting off the circulation to her upper arm.
“You listen to me,” venom seeped through every word, “I don’t know anymore than you do, if you want to get out of here, you’d better shut up and follow my lead.”
Mia struggled out of his grip- she didn’t like this Jekyll and Hyde persona of his.
With a final threatening glare, he straightened his tie and smoothed out his impossibly wrinkled shirt. Yanking his briefcase away from her, he turned to find one of the Black Coats had taken it upon himself to retrieve another of his designer coats from the closet.
Another man stepped forward as though he were going to take hold of Mia, but Lyle intervened.
“I don’t think so,” he informed the man icily. “This one’s mine.”
The Black Coat backed away and Lyle and Mia left the suite flanked by four enormous, conspicuous beasts.
Lyle was far too acquiescent for Mia’s taste. She was plagued with a growing since of unease and restlessness. Still, she went along with it, though she was far less agreeable than usual. Lyle noticed this, but could have cared less about her attitude. His agenda was the only thing that concerned him.
They were nearing a black sedan that looked suspiciously like a Centre-issued vehicle. Just a few yards from the car, Lyle stopped abruptly which caused Mia to stumble. He patted his pockets as though looking for something.
“Problem, Mr. Lyle?”
“Actually,” Lyle was quite the thespian and truly seemed lost. “I don’t have my gun,” he admitted sheepishly.
“That is not of consequence,” he was notified shortly. “Come. Now.”
“Oh, I’m afraid it is a problem, gentlemen,” he said. “I mean, seriously, what would housekeeping think if they found a weapon like that on the nightstand. So you see…”
He turned his back on them and began to walk away. Mia remained rooted to the ground and he did not beckon her to follow.
“I cannot allow you to return, Mr. Lyle,” the apparent Black Coat head went after him.
He never even looked back.
Within seconds, the man was upon him. Lyle whirled around to meet him. Three muffled blasts shattered the silence of the morning. Apparently, the revolver had not been left behind after all.
The Black Coat teetered unsteadily before finally falling over. This loss rippled to his ilk; they were rendered as useless as he.
Mia needed no command to run this time.
Perhaps Lyle’s greatest weakness was his arrogance for he had assumed they now home free. But, they quickly found out that this was not so. From out of nowhere, four more creature of the night materialized in their path.
Lyle had not foreseen this and was momentarily thrown off kilter. It was Mia, surprisingly, who took command of the situation. She was willing to wager that she knew the City better than any of them, especially the back streets and lots. She tugged at Lyle’s disfigured hand, indicating for him to follow her.
And the chase was on.
Notorious….
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sydney and Broots stood in the driveway behind the Centre near a black sedan. Broots shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He was more than a little concerned about why Mr. Parker was sending his boss away and down right afraid about what might next occur.
Next to him, Sydney was calm with his usual dignified demeanor, but underneath the placid exterior, he was just as concerned as Broots. He felt Broots stiffen besides him and looked up.
Mr. Parker was walking out to the car with, presumably, Miss Parker, though the woman was so bundled up with scarves and a giant pair of sunglasses that it was difficult to tell. Sydney raised an eyebrow in curiosity. It was very unlike Parker to be so covered. Sam, Parker’s sweeper, walked on the other side of her. His face was an impassive mask, but as he passed Broots and Sydney, his eyes danced merrily and he gave them a quick wink.
A smile tugged at the corner of the psychologist’s mouth- Parker was up to something and Sam was in on it.
Mr. Parker, oblivious to anyone but himself, kissed his daughter after speaking briefly to her, and sent her off with Sam. If something shady was afoot, it eluded him.
Broots returned with Sydney to the doctor’s office, wondering what they would do without Parker there to issue commands.
“It’s going to be weird without her, Syd,” the technician said. “I mean, where do you think he sent her?”
“He didn’t send me anywhere.”
Broots whipped around, his jaw nearly hitting the floor when he saw a smug Miss Parker standing in the doorway. Sydney simply smiled- very little surprised him anymore.
“However, where exactly he sent Lyle’s little secretary is not my concern.” She grinned devilishly knowing full well how mad her brother was going to be when he found out.
“Very clever,” Sydney commented.
“I thought so,” she said with a flip of her hair. Her mood turned serious. “Speaking of baby brother, I think it’s about time we paid him a little visit.”
Broots gulped and looked at Sydney.
“We?”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jarod had been living in Grayson’s office for the last several hours, trying to make some headway in the serial killings. So far, it was not looking good.
He hunched over the desk with a pencil clinched between his teeth, surrounded by stacks of papers. Laid out before him was a mess of notes, photographs, and reports. He grunted in frustration.
A steaming cup of coffee suddenly appeared before him.
Jarod glance up to see Erik Travers standing in front of the desk, clutching yet another oversized file.
He smiled his gratitude to the young man.
“How’s it coming? Anything yet?” Travers gave his boss an apologetic look as he added his file to the growing mound.
The Pretender sighed heavily.
“There are so many leads,” he said shaking his head. “Nothing has been organized or followed-up. Everything is in such a mess- it’s hard to make any sense of it.”
Travers frowned. “It’s as though someone wasn’t taking the case seriously.”
Jarod nodded- he’d had the same thought. “Or someone didn’t want it to be taken seriously.”
“Need me to do anything, sir?”
Jarod looked up at his assistant again. Travers was an eager and diligent worker- the Pretender had no doubt the young man would go far in his profession.
“Can you get a hold of Sussex for me?”
“Sussex, sir?”
“Forensics.”
“I’m on it!” he smiled enthusiastically and hurried out of the office.
Jarod returned to the file in his hand. His gaze locked onto a business card that was clipped to the top of the documents. It simply read:
Dr. Viktor Puccini
Frustrating as it was to have nothing to go on, he was making satisfactory progress on another case. A small, square white envelope laid on his desk. He picked it up, slipped a petite card of paper in it, and sealed it with a secretive smile.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“But the shadows are on your side as soon as the lights go down…
There was no way to tell exactly how it happened.
They managed to remain together until the very end. They dodged, misled, and outwitted the Black Coats with ease. With his smarts and savvy and her knowledge of the City, it was child’s play to avoid them.
But something went extraordinarily wrong.
One rogue Black Coat diverged from the uniformity that his cohorts used in pursuing them. He opted for the rooftops instead of the ground.
In the darkest place you can hide…
They weren’t anticipating that. Needless to say, they were caught terribly off-guard when he swooped down on them from above. How he survived a twenty-seven-story freefall was inexplicable, but it caused enough of distraction that they took a wrong turn.
They found themselves alone- separated from each other.
She found herself regretting the harsh accusations she had made against him and desperate to find him again. He was cursing his futility over losing his trophy and ticket to the top of Centre hierarchy.
They were each trapped against a brick wall, faced with the creatures bearing down on them, so close yet so far from one another.
You belong to the hands of the night…”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Miss Parker, Sydney,” Broots glanced from one to the. “This just arrived.”
Miss Parker eyed the white envelope in his hand. “From our 'lil monkey, I presume.”
“I dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s addressed to Sydney.”
“Oh?” She looked a bit put out as the doctor took the note.
A plain, unlined note card was inside. A short note was inscribed on it:
Here’s what you asked for:
Below the writing was a basic drawing of a heptagon; that was all there was to Jarod’s clue.
“What’s this all about?” Parker barked. “Been conspiring with the loose end again, Syd?”
Sydney handed her the card. “I thought he might be able to find something out about the Seventh Member Project. It appears he has.”
“So what’s it mean?”
Sydney smiled to himself. Jarod couldn’t resist the chance to toy with them.
“I have no idea.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“No- no- notorious!
I can't read about it, burns the skin from your eyes… I'll do fine without it- here's one you don't compromise...Lies come hard to disguise- let me to fight it out, not wild about it…Lay your seedy judgments, who says they're part of our lives?
She awoke with a sudden, heart-stopping start. She wasn’t sure what caused her to wake so violently, but something did and it was causing her stomach to churn.
A lone shaft of light stole into the room from a crack in the blinds. Mia blinked.
While attempting to calm her rapidly thumping heart, she scanned the room. Panic seized her again- she was in the bedroom sitting on the expansive bed with no recollection as to how she got there. Her last memory was of falling asleep on the couch in the sitting room.
She wanted to move, to run- but fear had paralyzed her limbs, trapping her on the bed. Her greatest fear was that she had suffered another blackout- though it must have been a brief one, unlike the typical ones she normally suffered. Such knowledge did little to ease her frazzled nerves.
Her mind, desperate to comprehend the reason for missing time, reeled in the quest for an explanation.
Lyle. The name floated through her discombobulated thoughts… Lyle…
Lyle!
A sudden thought occurred to her and panicked her all the more. Fearfully, she turned and looked at the other side of the king bed.
It was smooth and untouched.
She let out the breath she had been holding with a moan of relief. She collapsed against the headboard.
However, curiosity as to what had become of her mysterious companion…it would not surprise her at all to find that he, like most people, had left her.
Much to her delight, she discovered him asleep on the couch in the sitting room with his body dangling at a peculiar angle. He was scrunched up at one end of the sofa with his arms tightly entwined over his stomach and his head suspended off of the cushion in an excruciating position.
He awoke abruptly to find that all the furniture in the suite had been inverted.
What the-!
He looked up to discover that he was nose to nose with the carpet. His eyes re-closed and a groan of puzzlement and pain escaped his lips.
I can’t believe I spent the night on the couch!
He hauled himself into an upright position.
I should have left her where she was!
Rubbing his temples, he mumbled in aggravated tones. He was not a morning person.
A gentle breathing made him opens his eyes again. He now found himself nose-to-nose with Mia. Instinctively, he pulled away from her and stood up hastily.
He hated how she stared at him with those eyes!
“Are you all right?”
He turned towards her, a hand still plastered to his forehead.
“Do I look all right?” he snapped in growl. The stricken look on her face was more than he could stand.
“Go get dressed!” he commanded coldly, turning his back on her.
“But I don’t have anything to wear,” she informed him dolefully.
“Closet,” he retorted, keeping his back to her. With a flick of his wrist, he indicated to the bedroom. “Go.”
You own the money, you control the witness…
She was, truly, a sensitive child and it upset her terribly that she had angered him. She wanted to set things right, but felt it prudent to obey him. Besides, she wanted to please him, to gain his approval as there was something wonderful and terrifying about him, all at the same time.
The once empty closet was now held several articles of very fine clothing- the type of clothing that she would stare at for hours in the windows of Barneys. Timidly, she reached out a finger and let it trail down the length of a black Italian cashmere zip jacket. A pair of expensive “skinny” jeans- the kind models wore- lay folded neatly on the bottom shelf with a pair of black leather Prada boots next to them.
If she hadn’t put him in such a foul mood, Mia would have immediately protested his wasting money on her. So instead, she dressed in silence, very astonished to find that the clothes fit perfectly. She was so used to wearing ill-fitting clothes, she found that fitted clothing felt a little odd and took some getting used. She was reluctant to admit, even to herself, that she was thrilled with wearing such posh attire and having someone like him to buy them for her.
I’ll leave you lonely - don't monkey with my business…
He waited impatiently for her, pacing the floor like a caged animal. He was restless, eager to move on. Several things gnawed at him concerning their current predicament and below those concerns were more, less specific, creatures hissing and clawing at him- suspicions that continually preyed on his mind and nerves.
After an eternity, she took a timid step into the drawing room as though she were in the wrong place or even the wrong time- she looked indelibly lost.
“Turn,” he ordered stridently, motioning her to turn around. He looked her over with a critical gaze.
She turned, her eyes fastened on him as she obeyed.
“You’ll do,” he said curtly.
The disheartened look on her face made him pause. He pressed his lip together firmly.
“Your clothes finally suit your face,” he finally managed- it was as close to a sincere compliment as he could get.
Her face lit up as she received his endorsement.
Though it was satisfying to see her brighten, it strangely darkened his own mood.
Breakfast had been set up by the concierge by then. Lyle all but pushed her into a seat opposite his place at the head of the table. In morose silence he watched her eat. He took nothing for himself; his appetite had been replaced by a growing unrest and provocation.
Time ticked by- it was nearly eight o’clock. Minutes drifted into oblivion…
He shifted in his chair, his eyes narrowed, and his fingers wrapped around napkin.
She was taking far too long, though there was hardly enough on her plate to satisfy an infant.
The restlessness grew, flooding his veins, and tensing his muscles…he couldn’t take much more…the napkin fell away from his hand in shreds.
WHAM!!! His fist slammed into the mahogany table.
Mia jumped at the noise. Rattled, she stared at Lyle who was standing over the table with fierce scowl. His breathing came in short spurts.
“That’s enough!” he informed her mercilessly. “Get up.”
She stood, wobbling slightly from the abrupt rise. If she had any wisdom she would have been afraid, she would have run- and she might have if it had not been for that peculiar, crazed glint in his eyes.
She knew that look well, but how or why she did not know.
You pay the profits to justify the reasons…. I heard your promise but I don't believe it…. That's why I'll do it again…
A wave of nausea swathed him and his arm that held him away from the table weakened. It was happening again…he could feel it and it was a surreal thing, that feeling of loosing all semblance of sanity. It was never as rapid or as unpleasant as one might assume, but was it was enormously bizarre to be completely aware of one’s psyche unraveling. Once it began, it could not be stopped.
He tried to ward off the inevitable, staggering away from table to look for something stable to hold onto. There was nothing.
From some nether region deep within him, laughter rippled out.
For some reason unbeknownst to her, she knew he was going to fall and was prepared. However, she wasn’t ready for the seizures that shook him.
She was afraid- afraid for him and afraid for her. She had idea what to do. He began to gag and, fearing he might choke, she slid him off of her lap, laying him on his right side. The convulsions increased in intensity. Suddenly, a hand grasped her upper arm with surprising strength considering there was no thumb to aid its grip. He pulled her down to his level, but his eyes would not- or could not- focus on her. She tossed her hair over her shoulder to get it out of the way only to find that his hand had slipped from her arm and his fingers tousled in her tresses.
He grunted something unintelligible. She didn’t understand. He tried again, straining until he was exhausted- he knew what he wanted her to do, but his mouth refused to cooperate.
She yelped in trepidation as he attempted to claw his way across the floor.
The paroxysms were too intense for him to continue. He grabbed hold of her once more. It was no small task but, at length, he was able to convey to her that he wanted his briefcase.
She lugged it over and, on his command, tried to open it. It was locked.
By counting out each number on his fingers, he was able to give her the combination so she could unlock the case. He pointed to a pocket in the lid. She slid her hand in and pulled out the only thing that was in it- a slim black velvet case.
Inside the casing were three slender glass syringes, each filled with an inky solution. He clutched her hand and laid it on the back of his neck, pressing her fingertips into the base of his skull- the place where he wanted her to put the injection.
Trembling, she raised the hypodermic needle to the place where he directed her. She fretted over hurting him- the needle was thick and long. Drawing in a deep breath, she plunged it in, cringing as she did.
His face and body contorted in a silent scream. She couldn’t see that the injection was helping any…he seemed worse.
After a spell, the seizures subsided into demure twitches, and a few minutes later, they too evaporated.
He was now drained of any energy recouped in sleep. With some help from Mia, he was able to sit up as his world normalized.
She let out a gasp of air, feeling weak herself but greatly pleased that he was all right.
Their sense of relief was short-lived.
There was a clicking at the entrance to the suite as though the lock were being picked. Mia moved closer to Lyle, practically hiding behind him. The handle of the door began to turn.
Click…click... click…. clock.
The door slowly swung open.
There were four this time- each an identical replica of the other. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they formed a solid wall that blocked the only exit.
Fools run rings to break up something they'll never destroy…Grand notorious slam, (BAM!) Don't ask me to bleed about it- I need this blood to survive. That's why I'll do it again…
The mounting tension was stifling. Slowly, Lyle rose to his feet, in control once more, and pulled Mia up with him.
“Hello, Mr. Lyle,” said one. “You were rather difficult to find, yes.”
“But you come with us now,” said another.
Their voices were like the buzz of giant bees; there was no distinction in tone, diction, or octave. It was the same voice coming from many different mouths.
He reached for his gun only to find the holster empty. Keeping his gaze steady on the men guarding the door and a grip on Mia, he began backing up until the briefcase was at his feet.
“Get it,” he hissed at her.
As she bent to pick it up, one of the Black Coats stepped forward.
“You are not going to run, Mr. Lyle.”
“Of course not,” he replied in his smoothest timbre. “If you gentlemen will give me a chance to collect my personal belongings, I’ll be right along.”
“The girl, too?”
“Yes, yes,” he snapped irritably. “The girl, too.”
He turned his back on their unsolicited escorts. He was met by Mia’s angry glare.
“What are you doing?!” she demanded. “We don’t know who they are- or at least I don’t.” Her eyes narrowed. She was getting more than a little suspicious. First, he was so eager to get away from them, and now he was going to comply with them just like that? Something wasn’t adding up. “Maybe you do know these goons. Are you working with them? They certainly seem to know you!”
Lyle’s grip on her tightened, cutting off the circulation to her upper arm.
“You listen to me,” venom seeped through every word, “I don’t know anymore than you do, if you want to get out of here, you’d better shut up and follow my lead.”
Mia struggled out of his grip- she didn’t like this Jekyll and Hyde persona of his.
With a final threatening glare, he straightened his tie and smoothed out his impossibly wrinkled shirt. Yanking his briefcase away from her, he turned to find one of the Black Coats had taken it upon himself to retrieve another of his designer coats from the closet.
Another man stepped forward as though he were going to take hold of Mia, but Lyle intervened.
“I don’t think so,” he informed the man icily. “This one’s mine.”
The Black Coat backed away and Lyle and Mia left the suite flanked by four enormous, conspicuous beasts.
Lyle was far too acquiescent for Mia’s taste. She was plagued with a growing since of unease and restlessness. Still, she went along with it, though she was far less agreeable than usual. Lyle noticed this, but could have cared less about her attitude. His agenda was the only thing that concerned him.
They were nearing a black sedan that looked suspiciously like a Centre-issued vehicle. Just a few yards from the car, Lyle stopped abruptly which caused Mia to stumble. He patted his pockets as though looking for something.
“Problem, Mr. Lyle?”
“Actually,” Lyle was quite the thespian and truly seemed lost. “I don’t have my gun,” he admitted sheepishly.
“That is not of consequence,” he was notified shortly. “Come. Now.”
“Oh, I’m afraid it is a problem, gentlemen,” he said. “I mean, seriously, what would housekeeping think if they found a weapon like that on the nightstand. So you see…”
He turned his back on them and began to walk away. Mia remained rooted to the ground and he did not beckon her to follow.
“I cannot allow you to return, Mr. Lyle,” the apparent Black Coat head went after him.
He never even looked back.
Within seconds, the man was upon him. Lyle whirled around to meet him. Three muffled blasts shattered the silence of the morning. Apparently, the revolver had not been left behind after all.
The Black Coat teetered unsteadily before finally falling over. This loss rippled to his ilk; they were rendered as useless as he.
Mia needed no command to run this time.
Perhaps Lyle’s greatest weakness was his arrogance for he had assumed they now home free. But, they quickly found out that this was not so. From out of nowhere, four more creature of the night materialized in their path.
Lyle had not foreseen this and was momentarily thrown off kilter. It was Mia, surprisingly, who took command of the situation. She was willing to wager that she knew the City better than any of them, especially the back streets and lots. She tugged at Lyle’s disfigured hand, indicating for him to follow her.
And the chase was on.
Notorious….
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sydney and Broots stood in the driveway behind the Centre near a black sedan. Broots shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He was more than a little concerned about why Mr. Parker was sending his boss away and down right afraid about what might next occur.
Next to him, Sydney was calm with his usual dignified demeanor, but underneath the placid exterior, he was just as concerned as Broots. He felt Broots stiffen besides him and looked up.
Mr. Parker was walking out to the car with, presumably, Miss Parker, though the woman was so bundled up with scarves and a giant pair of sunglasses that it was difficult to tell. Sydney raised an eyebrow in curiosity. It was very unlike Parker to be so covered. Sam, Parker’s sweeper, walked on the other side of her. His face was an impassive mask, but as he passed Broots and Sydney, his eyes danced merrily and he gave them a quick wink.
A smile tugged at the corner of the psychologist’s mouth- Parker was up to something and Sam was in on it.
Mr. Parker, oblivious to anyone but himself, kissed his daughter after speaking briefly to her, and sent her off with Sam. If something shady was afoot, it eluded him.
Broots returned with Sydney to the doctor’s office, wondering what they would do without Parker there to issue commands.
“It’s going to be weird without her, Syd,” the technician said. “I mean, where do you think he sent her?”
“He didn’t send me anywhere.”
Broots whipped around, his jaw nearly hitting the floor when he saw a smug Miss Parker standing in the doorway. Sydney simply smiled- very little surprised him anymore.
“However, where exactly he sent Lyle’s little secretary is not my concern.” She grinned devilishly knowing full well how mad her brother was going to be when he found out.
“Very clever,” Sydney commented.
“I thought so,” she said with a flip of her hair. Her mood turned serious. “Speaking of baby brother, I think it’s about time we paid him a little visit.”
Broots gulped and looked at Sydney.
“We?”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jarod had been living in Grayson’s office for the last several hours, trying to make some headway in the serial killings. So far, it was not looking good.
He hunched over the desk with a pencil clinched between his teeth, surrounded by stacks of papers. Laid out before him was a mess of notes, photographs, and reports. He grunted in frustration.
A steaming cup of coffee suddenly appeared before him.
Jarod glance up to see Erik Travers standing in front of the desk, clutching yet another oversized file.
He smiled his gratitude to the young man.
“How’s it coming? Anything yet?” Travers gave his boss an apologetic look as he added his file to the growing mound.
The Pretender sighed heavily.
“There are so many leads,” he said shaking his head. “Nothing has been organized or followed-up. Everything is in such a mess- it’s hard to make any sense of it.”
Travers frowned. “It’s as though someone wasn’t taking the case seriously.”
Jarod nodded- he’d had the same thought. “Or someone didn’t want it to be taken seriously.”
“Need me to do anything, sir?”
Jarod looked up at his assistant again. Travers was an eager and diligent worker- the Pretender had no doubt the young man would go far in his profession.
“Can you get a hold of Sussex for me?”
“Sussex, sir?”
“Forensics.”
“I’m on it!” he smiled enthusiastically and hurried out of the office.
Jarod returned to the file in his hand. His gaze locked onto a business card that was clipped to the top of the documents. It simply read:
Dr. Viktor Puccini
Frustrating as it was to have nothing to go on, he was making satisfactory progress on another case. A small, square white envelope laid on his desk. He picked it up, slipped a petite card of paper in it, and sealed it with a secretive smile.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“But the shadows are on your side as soon as the lights go down…
There was no way to tell exactly how it happened.
They managed to remain together until the very end. They dodged, misled, and outwitted the Black Coats with ease. With his smarts and savvy and her knowledge of the City, it was child’s play to avoid them.
But something went extraordinarily wrong.
One rogue Black Coat diverged from the uniformity that his cohorts used in pursuing them. He opted for the rooftops instead of the ground.
In the darkest place you can hide…
They weren’t anticipating that. Needless to say, they were caught terribly off-guard when he swooped down on them from above. How he survived a twenty-seven-story freefall was inexplicable, but it caused enough of distraction that they took a wrong turn.
They found themselves alone- separated from each other.
She found herself regretting the harsh accusations she had made against him and desperate to find him again. He was cursing his futility over losing his trophy and ticket to the top of Centre hierarchy.
They were each trapped against a brick wall, faced with the creatures bearing down on them, so close yet so far from one another.
You belong to the hands of the night…”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Miss Parker, Sydney,” Broots glanced from one to the. “This just arrived.”
Miss Parker eyed the white envelope in his hand. “From our 'lil monkey, I presume.”
“I dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s addressed to Sydney.”
“Oh?” She looked a bit put out as the doctor took the note.
A plain, unlined note card was inside. A short note was inscribed on it:
Here’s what you asked for:
Below the writing was a basic drawing of a heptagon; that was all there was to Jarod’s clue.
“What’s this all about?” Parker barked. “Been conspiring with the loose end again, Syd?”
Sydney handed her the card. “I thought he might be able to find something out about the Seventh Member Project. It appears he has.”
“So what’s it mean?”
Sydney smiled to himself. Jarod couldn’t resist the chance to toy with them.
“I have no idea.”
