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A/N: Sorry, so very sorry for the long wait! I've been uber-busy lately. As a reward for your patience, here is the seventh chapter! Hurray! Thanks for the great reviews, looking forward to more (hinthint). Oh, yeah...if you review this chapter, be sure to thank Sunflower for her ridiculously insane review of 'update'. It was that particular review that prompted me to post tonight.
Portrait of a Killer
7/10
by RRP
Sydney sat on a chair in the kitchen, next to Ben Miller, Major Charles, and Jack Ryan, as the four men watched the tearful goodbyes exchanged, possibly for the last time ever. Three suitcases sat at the door, one to each departing man.
Broots and Sam stood silently next to the suitcases, as Lyle kissed each of his kids goodbye, and finally got to Emily. A brief hug was shared, both people obviously unused to being surrounded by other people when they shared affection. He kissed her on the forehead, and then took her face into his hands. She looked up into his eyes, and sniffled.
"Emmy, I love you-" He paused, waiting for her to finish what had been a common saying between them, since before Charlie was even born. The twist on an old favorite phrase of Lyle's was not lost on either Jarod, or Sydney.
"Always, because love is forever." She finished, sniffling again. He nodded, then stepped back. She pulled the kids around her, and put her hands on Charlie and Maddy's shoulders. Aric Joel, feeling slightly left out, slipped off the couch, and hurried over to Sam. He tugged on the suit jacket, and Sam looked down. Aric Joel opened his mouth to say something, but quickly clamped it shut again. He wrapped his arms around Sam's legs, reaching as high as he could to give the Sweeper a hug. Sam blinked in surprise, and bent down to look at Aric Joel.
"Hey, kid. I'll bring her back. I promise."
"I don't want you to die either." Aric Joel whispered, voice cracking. Jarod and Patrick exchanged identical looks. Obviously, the boy was smarter than everyone thought, for no one had told him the situation would be life-threatening. Sam ruffled the boy's hair, and stood back up.
"I'll try not to." He answered with a grim smile. Lyle walked over to the door, grabbed his suitcase, and left the house. Sam, Broots, and Jarod followed him. Out by the car they planned to take, Jarod proceeded to mini-drill each man, just to make sure everything was clear and set.
"Lyle, you have your story?" Lyle nodded firmly, and slipped into the car. "Broots?"
"Got it, Jarod." Broots climbed into the passenger seat, and shut the door. Jarod turned to Sam last.
"Sam?"
"It's covered, Jarod." The Sweeper started to open the car door, and hesitated. "Jarod? Do me a favor?"
"What, Broom Man?"
"Keep an eye on AJ, for me, okay?"
"Expect nothing less." Jarod nodded solemnly, and watched as Sam once again hesitated. He finally looked back up at Jarod, and spoke, seemingly with difficultly.
"She's always cared about him, Jarod. And I won't lie to you- I do, too. He's a special kid." Jarod nodded again, and Sam finally opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat. Sam started the car, and rolled down the window.
"Broots said he'll be in contact."
"I'll be waiting." Jarod replied.
"Later, Labrat." And with those two final words, Sam pulled out of the driveway, and drove off into the distance. Jarod watched for several minutes, before returning inside. The people inside the house were struggling to return to some state of the normalcy they had grown accustomed to. Patrick was teaching Charlie and Aric Joel how to play marbles, Emily was reading a story to Spider and the girls, and the other men were in groups of two; Sydney and Ben were talking, and Major Charles and Jack Ryan were talking.
After several long explanations and interviews, Ryan had been allowed out of his room, to interact with the people downstairs, still on probation from the phone and the internet. He often ended up talking with Major Charles, mainly because of their shared interest in planes. Sydney and Ben talked a lot- mostly about Catherine and Miss Parker. Shared memories of a beautiful mother, and a loved daughter.
Jarod meanwhile, had spent a lot of time with Patrick and Emily, the siblings finally getting a chance to really bond. The five children had not hindered, but helped the process. The facade of trust each had put up for each other, just for the kids, had slowly become a real trust, over the past two weeks. Patrick had been easy enough for Jarod to grow to deeply trust and understand- he had studied himself his entire life. There were rough spots of course, but they had been pretty much smoothed out. It was a process, a journey, that would never truly be over, but they were off to a good start.
Emily had been another matter. Sorrowful apologies were given by Jarod, met by Emily's equally saddened forgiveness. But the seven years before had clearly formed a gap that could not be bridged with only words. Jarod, to his disbelief, was finding it almost as hard to get along peacefully with Emily as it was for him to get along with Lyle. But, their relationship was well on it's way to being completely mended.
And that was fine with Jarod. Perfectly fine.
---
"Mr. Parker? Mr. Parker?" The secretary's nervous voice came over the intercom, and Mr. Parker sighed.
"What now, Rachel?"
"Your...um...son, is here." The secretary replied. Mr. Parker's eyes opened wide in surprise.
"Who brought him in? Have a Sweeper escort him to his room."
"I'm not quite sure you understand, sir. I meant your other son. Mr. Lyle." Mr. Parker's jaw dropped. He finally managed to close his mouth, and after an uneasy silence, he pushed the intercom button again.
"Send...send him in, Rachel."
"Yes sir." The secretary replied compliantly. Mr. Parker sat back in his chair, and waited.
A minute later, the office doors flew open, and Lyle stalked in. He sat down in a chair across from his father, the desk separating the two. Silence grasped the voices in the room for several extended seconds.
"Lyle." Mr. Parker finally managed to speak. "What a...um, surprise. What brings you back here?" The tone was a bit colder and harsher than needed, but expected.
"It was a bad decision." Lyle announced after appearing to think for a moment. "The whole family junk and everything. I just wasn't meant to be a family man." He shrugged.
"What happened?" Mr. Parker pretended to play dumb, as Lyle did just what the word implied. Pretend. Play-act.
"Emily was the only good part of the deal, and I lost her in a car accident last year." Lyle said simply. Mr. Parker pasted a mask of sorrow on, and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Lyle. I don't know what else to say, son."
"The kids, god...they were annoying."
"Were?" Mr. Parker asked in mock horror.
"I hit one of them, I forget which one, and some nosey neighbor saw. Called the social service, and the kids were gone within a few days. Good riddance." Lyle tossed a couple official looking papers on the desk, signed by different authority figures, stating that the man in question (Lyle Parker) was not capable of being a safe caregiver to his children, and they had been forcefully removed by the long arm of the law. Mr. Parker looked them over for a second, before nodding.
"They'll be happy, you'll be happy. It's better for everyone." He said, trying to sound soothing. Lyle snorted in reply.
"So, the search for Jarod still up? Or should I apply for Corporate?"
"The pursuit for Jarod is over. He died in an airplane crash a few weeks ago. On his way to Africa, I'm afraid." Mr. Parker replied lightly, as if speaking of the weather.
"That's a bother out of the way. So, what Project is the Centre working on now? Still looking for Gemini?"
"Yes, yes. The Gemini's Pursuit is still a priority. Raines is currently non-influential. Actually, the Tower's actually considering putting a termination order out on him."
"Sounds like an opportunity. A perfect gift to the Tower, to ensure my loyalty and resecure my position." Lyle said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with the fingers of his left hand. Mr. Parker nodded with a broad smile. Lyle was saying exactly what he wanted to hear.
"What position would that be, Lyle?" Lyle looked up, and raised his eyebrows.
"Chairman's son, of course. And with Raines gone, I could perhaps take his place on the board. As well as finish any projects he's working on. Good deal, actually. Pick one man off, get my job back, plus a new office and a whole fleet of Sweepers." Mr. Parker laughed, and stood as he led Lyle to the door.
"I always did like the way you think, son. I'm sure the Tower will be delighted to welcome you back, despite why you left. They've all made mistakes, I hear. Meanwhile, you can take your sister's old office."
"Miss Parker? Where is she, by the way?"
"Oh, she's in the Infirmary, I'm afraid. Jarod shot her right before he was brought it. Went wild, I hear. Africa wouldn't have even been able to do much with him."
"Sub-level 16? I might like to go bring a couple of old issues up, once she's feeling better. I always warned her about him."
"They moved the entire infirmary down to Sub-level 19, actually. Safer." Mr. Parker gave Lyle a familiar, fake smile, and returned to his office. Lyle was finding it extremely hard to listen to all the repulsive lies, and lie himself, but determined to keep the image up, he muttered,
"Or maybe I'll just go discuss those issues now." To the camera, and the DSA that Mr. Parker later watched, it seemed as though Lyle was simply talking to himself.
---
Lyle entered the Infirmary on Sub-level 19, and searched for his sister's room. He found it, minutes later, and paused to look through the window before entering. She was still surrounded by equipment, and he resisted the human urge to shudder, or wince. He mentally took a deep breath, and entered the room.
She woke up when he entered, and looked at him, her confusion clear. He made sure his back was to the camera, and mouthed the words,
"Don't say anything. I'm really here to help." Thankfully, her eyes cleared, showing that she understood, but she didn't nod. The camera just recorded a once-powerful, and soon to be more powerful, Centre figure, staring at his ill sister.
Lyle personally thought she looked far too pale, and wished there was some way to talk to her alone, without the cameras- some way to reassure her. Instead, he stepped forward, and snapped,
"I warned you about him."
"You bastard." She gasped, chest still in pain from the recent introduction to 'dear daddy's' gun.
"Me? He shot you, so I hear."
"It was an accident."
"That's just what he would want you to think, you know. That's always what he wanted you to think. He never loved you, Miss Parker. He used you. And look where it got you." The words that easily fooled Mr. Parker, while he later watched the DSA, into thinking the topic of discussion was Jarod, held another meaning for Lyle and Miss Parker. They were talking about their father. If he could even be called that.
"Liar."
"Me? Lie? He's the one that died, sis. Not me."
"How dare you."
"Tell you the truth? You want me to tell you Jarod didn't die?" Lyle made sure his back was still to the camera, before he impishly mouthed, 'You're right'.
"I want the truth, Lyle."
"I gave you the truth, Miss Parker. It's Jarod's fault if you don't believe me. Why should I lie to you? It doesn't matter to me, whether either of you are alive or dead." Before Miss Parker could say anything in return, Lyle left the room, pretending to be fuming with anger.
He was barely back in his 'new' office, before the phone rang. He picked it up, to hear four words, before his father hung back up.
"Tower's orders. Kill Raines."
Lyle pulled the extra gun out of the desk drawer, where he knew Miss Parker kept her spare. He made sure the clip was full, and shoved it into the gun. Raines' death was one thing Lyle wasn't going to clear with Jarod. Raines had hurt his Emily, and it was payback time.
---
Patrick's world was spinning. He had no idea what to think. An intricate rescue mission could have possibly just blown up in their faces. Within hours of Broots email arriving, the one that informed the occupants of the Runway House that the trio had made it to Delaware, notices had gone up on the Centre mainframe, and new notices were popping up every five minutes.
Sam was missing, and not quite missing. According to the mainframe notes, he had been whisked off to Renewal Wing as soon as someone spotted him, which was in of itself unusual for a simple Sweeper. Usually, it was aim, squeeze, die. But by some luck, or curse, it was possible he was still alive.
Patrick and Jarod were not counting on any action being taken so soon, so that alone was a huge blow. Then, Broots had been reassigned to the European Triumvirate Branch, for unobvious reasons. Jarod assumed it was because they wanted him to disappear, just like they had told Miss Parker. They were slowly making as much of the lie come true, as possible.
Lyle was the one who worried them the most. The notices about him being back were expected. But less than three hours later, the Mainframe was hit by a tidal wave. Lyle's first assignment had been the removal of Raines, which he had succeeded at. Raines' projects, place on the board, office, and Sweeper team had all been handed over, within half an hour of Raines' death. Lyle had also willingly accepted the Gemini Pursuit Project, and that was the most disturbing piece of news.
Betrayal? Excellent acting? But why murder, if it was all an act? Would Lyle go that far, far enough to kill someone to wear a mask? Patrick's mind was spinning, with questions like these and more.
Was it revenge? For himself? For Emily? Without Broots, it was nearly impossible to contact Lyle without creating some type of trail, which was something they couldn't risk. They just had to trust him, and ride it out.
Patrick was anxiously watching the mainframe, as note after note came up. He would wait five minutes, and click the refresh button. Three or four new items would be up every time. It seemed that Lyle's return had caused more excitement than they were counting on. With his arrival, the Tower seemed to be making decision after decision, all of which had been stale and not thought of for several months, or longer. Patrick hit the refresh button again, and the newest note nearly made him cheer. He yelled for Jarod, instead.
Jarod rushed into the kitchen, to see what had gotten Patrick so excited. Patrick pointed to a note on the mainframe.
'Gemini sighting: Team will be sent to south-western Canada within the hour'.
Not Betrayal- Rescue. They were back in business. Broots and Sam still needed to be worried about, but Lyle hadn't turned. Things were going as well as could be hoped.
---
"Where is Jarod?" Cox demanded coolly, sitting in a chair at the end of the long table. Cox personally would have preferred a T-Board, just for the title and the fear the name implied, but the Tower and Triumvirate had refused. Instead, an interrogation in the Renewal Wing, before they used the man being questioned- for target practice.
"I don't know." Sam answered, for what seemed the hundredth time.
"Where is Jarod?" Cox repeated, as he had done close to what was actually thirty times already.
"I don't know." The same answer was given, in the same even tones. Sam looked around the room they were keeping him in, knowing full well what his fate was to be, but forcing himself to study his surroundings anyway. Gray walls, gray floors, and big surprise- gray table. It was all drab, but he was used to that. What was unnerving was the fact that he knew where he was- Renewal Wing. Heck, even Raines was scared of this place, if he was still alive.
"Where is Jarod?" Cox was getting more than frustrated now, and losing his cool. He stood, and stalked to the end of the table. He raised his hand, to slap the ex-Sweeper, in case of a useless answer. Sam's eyes darkened. He changed his reply.
"Fine. You obviously know that I know. What if I refuse to tell you?" Cox's face reddened with suppressed rage, and the slap rang throughout the room. Sam put a cautious hand to his mouth, and shook his head. "That won't work. I won't tell."
"Where is Jarod?" Cox growled, louder and less controlled than the previous times he had asked.
"Africa."
"Where?"
"Europe."
"Where?" Cox was near-screaming now. Sam gave him a grim, dark smile.
"Anywhere but Hades."
"Tell me, damn it!" Another slap. Sam didn't stop.
"Cook Islands." Cox growled. "Australia."
"Where is Jarod?" Cox ground out through clenched teeth.
"South America."
"Ever hear of John Donne, Sam? Of course you have. Do you know what he said about death? Hmm?" Cox asked, tone sickeningly sweet. Sam glared, and kept his mouth shut. Cox continued, "But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am mine own Executioner. Remember that, when I shoot you. It's your own fault."
"Duty determines destiny." Sam replied, sounding almost cheerful.
"Your duty to whom?" Cox questioned, an evil gleam in his eye.
"Miss Parker." Sam snapped in reply.
"You think she cares what happens to you? To her, you're just another Sweeper." Cox taunted, raising an eyebrow. Sam didn't speak. Several tense seconds passed before Cox leaned dangerously close to Sam's face, and started talking.
"It's a war, Sam. Between the Centre and those with Jarod. It has been for quite some time, and we've made it clear that if you were with him, you were against us. That means you're an enemy now, Sam. An enemy of the Centre. You're a prisoner of war, and you can do nothing about it. You're already a dead man. You want to know something else? It doesn't matter. None of it does. You don't matter, she doesn't matter, because you're all going to die in the end. You're fighting a losing battle, and if you lose too many battles, the war is over."
"There are some defeats more triumphant than victories. -Michel de Montaigne. You know what Cox? I don't give a damn. You want to know why? Because it doesn't matter what happens to me. Every person you kill, you dig your own grave a little deeper. Someday they're all going to be free, and you won't be able to do anything about it. Someday, the world is going to find you out. The light's going to cast it's white glare on the Centre's dark, deep corners, and no one will be able to hide. It's the prisoners that will walk, and the keepers that will be imprisoned. You don't have to win all the battles to win the war. And it's a war you're going to lose. Someday, Cox, Hell will freeze over, and all the angels will go skating."
"Angels, skate? I doubt it." Cox scoffed, though he was speaking just as metaphorically as Sam. Sam nodded grimly.
"You'd be surprised." Cox had had enough. He pulled out his gun, and stepped back. He leveled it, carefully aimed at Sam's head.
"Any last words, then? It's more than I give most."
"I only regret that I have but one life to lose to the Centre." Sam flashed Cox a sardonic smile. Cox laughed, and tightened his finger around the trigger.
7/10
by RRP
Sydney sat on a chair in the kitchen, next to Ben Miller, Major Charles, and Jack Ryan, as the four men watched the tearful goodbyes exchanged, possibly for the last time ever. Three suitcases sat at the door, one to each departing man.
Broots and Sam stood silently next to the suitcases, as Lyle kissed each of his kids goodbye, and finally got to Emily. A brief hug was shared, both people obviously unused to being surrounded by other people when they shared affection. He kissed her on the forehead, and then took her face into his hands. She looked up into his eyes, and sniffled.
"Emmy, I love you-" He paused, waiting for her to finish what had been a common saying between them, since before Charlie was even born. The twist on an old favorite phrase of Lyle's was not lost on either Jarod, or Sydney.
"Always, because love is forever." She finished, sniffling again. He nodded, then stepped back. She pulled the kids around her, and put her hands on Charlie and Maddy's shoulders. Aric Joel, feeling slightly left out, slipped off the couch, and hurried over to Sam. He tugged on the suit jacket, and Sam looked down. Aric Joel opened his mouth to say something, but quickly clamped it shut again. He wrapped his arms around Sam's legs, reaching as high as he could to give the Sweeper a hug. Sam blinked in surprise, and bent down to look at Aric Joel.
"Hey, kid. I'll bring her back. I promise."
"I don't want you to die either." Aric Joel whispered, voice cracking. Jarod and Patrick exchanged identical looks. Obviously, the boy was smarter than everyone thought, for no one had told him the situation would be life-threatening. Sam ruffled the boy's hair, and stood back up.
"I'll try not to." He answered with a grim smile. Lyle walked over to the door, grabbed his suitcase, and left the house. Sam, Broots, and Jarod followed him. Out by the car they planned to take, Jarod proceeded to mini-drill each man, just to make sure everything was clear and set.
"Lyle, you have your story?" Lyle nodded firmly, and slipped into the car. "Broots?"
"Got it, Jarod." Broots climbed into the passenger seat, and shut the door. Jarod turned to Sam last.
"Sam?"
"It's covered, Jarod." The Sweeper started to open the car door, and hesitated. "Jarod? Do me a favor?"
"What, Broom Man?"
"Keep an eye on AJ, for me, okay?"
"Expect nothing less." Jarod nodded solemnly, and watched as Sam once again hesitated. He finally looked back up at Jarod, and spoke, seemingly with difficultly.
"She's always cared about him, Jarod. And I won't lie to you- I do, too. He's a special kid." Jarod nodded again, and Sam finally opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat. Sam started the car, and rolled down the window.
"Broots said he'll be in contact."
"I'll be waiting." Jarod replied.
"Later, Labrat." And with those two final words, Sam pulled out of the driveway, and drove off into the distance. Jarod watched for several minutes, before returning inside. The people inside the house were struggling to return to some state of the normalcy they had grown accustomed to. Patrick was teaching Charlie and Aric Joel how to play marbles, Emily was reading a story to Spider and the girls, and the other men were in groups of two; Sydney and Ben were talking, and Major Charles and Jack Ryan were talking.
After several long explanations and interviews, Ryan had been allowed out of his room, to interact with the people downstairs, still on probation from the phone and the internet. He often ended up talking with Major Charles, mainly because of their shared interest in planes. Sydney and Ben talked a lot- mostly about Catherine and Miss Parker. Shared memories of a beautiful mother, and a loved daughter.
Jarod meanwhile, had spent a lot of time with Patrick and Emily, the siblings finally getting a chance to really bond. The five children had not hindered, but helped the process. The facade of trust each had put up for each other, just for the kids, had slowly become a real trust, over the past two weeks. Patrick had been easy enough for Jarod to grow to deeply trust and understand- he had studied himself his entire life. There were rough spots of course, but they had been pretty much smoothed out. It was a process, a journey, that would never truly be over, but they were off to a good start.
Emily had been another matter. Sorrowful apologies were given by Jarod, met by Emily's equally saddened forgiveness. But the seven years before had clearly formed a gap that could not be bridged with only words. Jarod, to his disbelief, was finding it almost as hard to get along peacefully with Emily as it was for him to get along with Lyle. But, their relationship was well on it's way to being completely mended.
And that was fine with Jarod. Perfectly fine.
"Mr. Parker? Mr. Parker?" The secretary's nervous voice came over the intercom, and Mr. Parker sighed.
"What now, Rachel?"
"Your...um...son, is here." The secretary replied. Mr. Parker's eyes opened wide in surprise.
"Who brought him in? Have a Sweeper escort him to his room."
"I'm not quite sure you understand, sir. I meant your other son. Mr. Lyle." Mr. Parker's jaw dropped. He finally managed to close his mouth, and after an uneasy silence, he pushed the intercom button again.
"Send...send him in, Rachel."
"Yes sir." The secretary replied compliantly. Mr. Parker sat back in his chair, and waited.
A minute later, the office doors flew open, and Lyle stalked in. He sat down in a chair across from his father, the desk separating the two. Silence grasped the voices in the room for several extended seconds.
"Lyle." Mr. Parker finally managed to speak. "What a...um, surprise. What brings you back here?" The tone was a bit colder and harsher than needed, but expected.
"It was a bad decision." Lyle announced after appearing to think for a moment. "The whole family junk and everything. I just wasn't meant to be a family man." He shrugged.
"What happened?" Mr. Parker pretended to play dumb, as Lyle did just what the word implied. Pretend. Play-act.
"Emily was the only good part of the deal, and I lost her in a car accident last year." Lyle said simply. Mr. Parker pasted a mask of sorrow on, and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Lyle. I don't know what else to say, son."
"The kids, god...they were annoying."
"Were?" Mr. Parker asked in mock horror.
"I hit one of them, I forget which one, and some nosey neighbor saw. Called the social service, and the kids were gone within a few days. Good riddance." Lyle tossed a couple official looking papers on the desk, signed by different authority figures, stating that the man in question (Lyle Parker) was not capable of being a safe caregiver to his children, and they had been forcefully removed by the long arm of the law. Mr. Parker looked them over for a second, before nodding.
"They'll be happy, you'll be happy. It's better for everyone." He said, trying to sound soothing. Lyle snorted in reply.
"So, the search for Jarod still up? Or should I apply for Corporate?"
"The pursuit for Jarod is over. He died in an airplane crash a few weeks ago. On his way to Africa, I'm afraid." Mr. Parker replied lightly, as if speaking of the weather.
"That's a bother out of the way. So, what Project is the Centre working on now? Still looking for Gemini?"
"Yes, yes. The Gemini's Pursuit is still a priority. Raines is currently non-influential. Actually, the Tower's actually considering putting a termination order out on him."
"Sounds like an opportunity. A perfect gift to the Tower, to ensure my loyalty and resecure my position." Lyle said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with the fingers of his left hand. Mr. Parker nodded with a broad smile. Lyle was saying exactly what he wanted to hear.
"What position would that be, Lyle?" Lyle looked up, and raised his eyebrows.
"Chairman's son, of course. And with Raines gone, I could perhaps take his place on the board. As well as finish any projects he's working on. Good deal, actually. Pick one man off, get my job back, plus a new office and a whole fleet of Sweepers." Mr. Parker laughed, and stood as he led Lyle to the door.
"I always did like the way you think, son. I'm sure the Tower will be delighted to welcome you back, despite why you left. They've all made mistakes, I hear. Meanwhile, you can take your sister's old office."
"Miss Parker? Where is she, by the way?"
"Oh, she's in the Infirmary, I'm afraid. Jarod shot her right before he was brought it. Went wild, I hear. Africa wouldn't have even been able to do much with him."
"Sub-level 16? I might like to go bring a couple of old issues up, once she's feeling better. I always warned her about him."
"They moved the entire infirmary down to Sub-level 19, actually. Safer." Mr. Parker gave Lyle a familiar, fake smile, and returned to his office. Lyle was finding it extremely hard to listen to all the repulsive lies, and lie himself, but determined to keep the image up, he muttered,
"Or maybe I'll just go discuss those issues now." To the camera, and the DSA that Mr. Parker later watched, it seemed as though Lyle was simply talking to himself.
Lyle entered the Infirmary on Sub-level 19, and searched for his sister's room. He found it, minutes later, and paused to look through the window before entering. She was still surrounded by equipment, and he resisted the human urge to shudder, or wince. He mentally took a deep breath, and entered the room.
She woke up when he entered, and looked at him, her confusion clear. He made sure his back was to the camera, and mouthed the words,
"Don't say anything. I'm really here to help." Thankfully, her eyes cleared, showing that she understood, but she didn't nod. The camera just recorded a once-powerful, and soon to be more powerful, Centre figure, staring at his ill sister.
Lyle personally thought she looked far too pale, and wished there was some way to talk to her alone, without the cameras- some way to reassure her. Instead, he stepped forward, and snapped,
"I warned you about him."
"You bastard." She gasped, chest still in pain from the recent introduction to 'dear daddy's' gun.
"Me? He shot you, so I hear."
"It was an accident."
"That's just what he would want you to think, you know. That's always what he wanted you to think. He never loved you, Miss Parker. He used you. And look where it got you." The words that easily fooled Mr. Parker, while he later watched the DSA, into thinking the topic of discussion was Jarod, held another meaning for Lyle and Miss Parker. They were talking about their father. If he could even be called that.
"Liar."
"Me? Lie? He's the one that died, sis. Not me."
"How dare you."
"Tell you the truth? You want me to tell you Jarod didn't die?" Lyle made sure his back was still to the camera, before he impishly mouthed, 'You're right'.
"I want the truth, Lyle."
"I gave you the truth, Miss Parker. It's Jarod's fault if you don't believe me. Why should I lie to you? It doesn't matter to me, whether either of you are alive or dead." Before Miss Parker could say anything in return, Lyle left the room, pretending to be fuming with anger.
He was barely back in his 'new' office, before the phone rang. He picked it up, to hear four words, before his father hung back up.
"Tower's orders. Kill Raines."
Lyle pulled the extra gun out of the desk drawer, where he knew Miss Parker kept her spare. He made sure the clip was full, and shoved it into the gun. Raines' death was one thing Lyle wasn't going to clear with Jarod. Raines had hurt his Emily, and it was payback time.
Patrick's world was spinning. He had no idea what to think. An intricate rescue mission could have possibly just blown up in their faces. Within hours of Broots email arriving, the one that informed the occupants of the Runway House that the trio had made it to Delaware, notices had gone up on the Centre mainframe, and new notices were popping up every five minutes.
Sam was missing, and not quite missing. According to the mainframe notes, he had been whisked off to Renewal Wing as soon as someone spotted him, which was in of itself unusual for a simple Sweeper. Usually, it was aim, squeeze, die. But by some luck, or curse, it was possible he was still alive.
Patrick and Jarod were not counting on any action being taken so soon, so that alone was a huge blow. Then, Broots had been reassigned to the European Triumvirate Branch, for unobvious reasons. Jarod assumed it was because they wanted him to disappear, just like they had told Miss Parker. They were slowly making as much of the lie come true, as possible.
Lyle was the one who worried them the most. The notices about him being back were expected. But less than three hours later, the Mainframe was hit by a tidal wave. Lyle's first assignment had been the removal of Raines, which he had succeeded at. Raines' projects, place on the board, office, and Sweeper team had all been handed over, within half an hour of Raines' death. Lyle had also willingly accepted the Gemini Pursuit Project, and that was the most disturbing piece of news.
Betrayal? Excellent acting? But why murder, if it was all an act? Would Lyle go that far, far enough to kill someone to wear a mask? Patrick's mind was spinning, with questions like these and more.
Was it revenge? For himself? For Emily? Without Broots, it was nearly impossible to contact Lyle without creating some type of trail, which was something they couldn't risk. They just had to trust him, and ride it out.
Patrick was anxiously watching the mainframe, as note after note came up. He would wait five minutes, and click the refresh button. Three or four new items would be up every time. It seemed that Lyle's return had caused more excitement than they were counting on. With his arrival, the Tower seemed to be making decision after decision, all of which had been stale and not thought of for several months, or longer. Patrick hit the refresh button again, and the newest note nearly made him cheer. He yelled for Jarod, instead.
Jarod rushed into the kitchen, to see what had gotten Patrick so excited. Patrick pointed to a note on the mainframe.
'Gemini sighting: Team will be sent to south-western Canada within the hour'.
Not Betrayal- Rescue. They were back in business. Broots and Sam still needed to be worried about, but Lyle hadn't turned. Things were going as well as could be hoped.
"Where is Jarod?" Cox demanded coolly, sitting in a chair at the end of the long table. Cox personally would have preferred a T-Board, just for the title and the fear the name implied, but the Tower and Triumvirate had refused. Instead, an interrogation in the Renewal Wing, before they used the man being questioned- for target practice.
"I don't know." Sam answered, for what seemed the hundredth time.
"Where is Jarod?" Cox repeated, as he had done close to what was actually thirty times already.
"I don't know." The same answer was given, in the same even tones. Sam looked around the room they were keeping him in, knowing full well what his fate was to be, but forcing himself to study his surroundings anyway. Gray walls, gray floors, and big surprise- gray table. It was all drab, but he was used to that. What was unnerving was the fact that he knew where he was- Renewal Wing. Heck, even Raines was scared of this place, if he was still alive.
"Where is Jarod?" Cox was getting more than frustrated now, and losing his cool. He stood, and stalked to the end of the table. He raised his hand, to slap the ex-Sweeper, in case of a useless answer. Sam's eyes darkened. He changed his reply.
"Fine. You obviously know that I know. What if I refuse to tell you?" Cox's face reddened with suppressed rage, and the slap rang throughout the room. Sam put a cautious hand to his mouth, and shook his head. "That won't work. I won't tell."
"Where is Jarod?" Cox growled, louder and less controlled than the previous times he had asked.
"Africa."
"Where?"
"Europe."
"Where?" Cox was near-screaming now. Sam gave him a grim, dark smile.
"Anywhere but Hades."
"Tell me, damn it!" Another slap. Sam didn't stop.
"Cook Islands." Cox growled. "Australia."
"Where is Jarod?" Cox ground out through clenched teeth.
"South America."
"Ever hear of John Donne, Sam? Of course you have. Do you know what he said about death? Hmm?" Cox asked, tone sickeningly sweet. Sam glared, and kept his mouth shut. Cox continued, "But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am mine own Executioner. Remember that, when I shoot you. It's your own fault."
"Duty determines destiny." Sam replied, sounding almost cheerful.
"Your duty to whom?" Cox questioned, an evil gleam in his eye.
"Miss Parker." Sam snapped in reply.
"You think she cares what happens to you? To her, you're just another Sweeper." Cox taunted, raising an eyebrow. Sam didn't speak. Several tense seconds passed before Cox leaned dangerously close to Sam's face, and started talking.
"It's a war, Sam. Between the Centre and those with Jarod. It has been for quite some time, and we've made it clear that if you were with him, you were against us. That means you're an enemy now, Sam. An enemy of the Centre. You're a prisoner of war, and you can do nothing about it. You're already a dead man. You want to know something else? It doesn't matter. None of it does. You don't matter, she doesn't matter, because you're all going to die in the end. You're fighting a losing battle, and if you lose too many battles, the war is over."
"There are some defeats more triumphant than victories. -Michel de Montaigne. You know what Cox? I don't give a damn. You want to know why? Because it doesn't matter what happens to me. Every person you kill, you dig your own grave a little deeper. Someday they're all going to be free, and you won't be able to do anything about it. Someday, the world is going to find you out. The light's going to cast it's white glare on the Centre's dark, deep corners, and no one will be able to hide. It's the prisoners that will walk, and the keepers that will be imprisoned. You don't have to win all the battles to win the war. And it's a war you're going to lose. Someday, Cox, Hell will freeze over, and all the angels will go skating."
"Angels, skate? I doubt it." Cox scoffed, though he was speaking just as metaphorically as Sam. Sam nodded grimly.
"You'd be surprised." Cox had had enough. He pulled out his gun, and stepped back. He leveled it, carefully aimed at Sam's head.
"Any last words, then? It's more than I give most."
"I only regret that I have but one life to lose to the Centre." Sam flashed Cox a sardonic smile. Cox laughed, and tightened his finger around the trigger.
