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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
1/3
By RRP
Lyle turned the key in the lock, and entered the foyer of his house, Emily and kids trailing behind him. He sucked in a breath, and cringed. It wasn't too bad- but it was messier than Emily managed to keep it. Legos on the floor, doll clothes, GI Joes- and he knew the kid's rooms couldn't look much better.
They had left without more than ten hours warning- and nine of those were spent sleeping. They hadn't had a chance to clean, or arrange for a maid to stop by, and it had been two stressful months they had been gone. He sneaked a glance over his shoulder at Emily, who looked around and smiled.
"We'll have to clean tomorrow. Meanwhile, I was hoping..."
"What, Mommy?" Spider asked, struggling with his coat.
"That we could pop some popcorn, make some hot cocoa, and play some board games. As a family." Lyle sensed excitement growing among the children at the mention of popcorn, and it only grew with each added idea. Emily smiled, and Lyle grinned, at the four kids tugging their coats off and kicking their shoes off, and rushing for the stairs.
"Junior Monopoly!" Maddy was shouting, climbing the stairs right behind Charlie.
"Oh Rats!" Spider added, pausing to jump on the stairs. Lyle and Emily stepped forward at the same time, and let out sighs of relief when the little boy continued on without falling.
"Lego Creator!" Charlie announced.
"Pajamas!" Lyle yelled up the stairs. "Pajamas first. Mommy and I will pick a few games." The frantic scuffling continued, and Lyle and Emily entered the kitchen- which, thanks to the insistence of Charlie before departure, was clean and sparkling. Emily opened the pantry door to look for popcorn, and leaned back against him when Lyle came up and put his arms around her.
"Good idea." He murmured.
"I love you." She returned. "Where's the popcorn?"
"And I love you. Look down a shelf."
"You have to let go of me first."
"Kiss me, then I'll let you go."
"Is that a threat?" Emily asked playfully.
"Nope. Ransom."
"Deal." She spun around, and kissed him, then turned back to get the popcorn. There was a shout from upstairs, a squeal, a door slammed, and then the sound of running feet. Then, a shout.
"Mommeeeeeeeeeeee! Daddeeeeeeeeee! Spider's going into the girl's room, again!"
"I'll handle it." Lyle said with a laugh. "And life goes on."
Aric Joel bounced on the bed, cartoons blaring from the TV, occasionally jumping off to take a bite of pizza and a sip of his soda. He laughed when Jarod returned to the hotel room with a bucket of ice, and joined him. They both bounced until Miss Parker came out of the bathroom, freshly showered, with a towel on her head, and told them to stop before they broke the bed frame. They obeyed, but not without protest, and quickly surrendered themselves to the one-eyed god of moving picture.
It wasn't until Miss Parker turned the TV off from the other bed, holding the remote in her hand with a mock sinister grin. The bright image on the screen died and zapped out of existence, and both man and child groaned.
"Hey!"
"Enough TV." Miss Parker replied. "Your brains are going to rot." There was a moment of silence as the two processed the comment, and Miss Parker held her hands up to the ceiling. "Good lord! It's already happened." They sat instead, eating half-warmed pizza in companionable silence. At least, Jarod and Aric Joel ate pizza- Miss Parker simply sipped a soda.
"Jarod." Aric Joel broke the silence with an inquisitive tone. "Where did everyone go, again?"
"Well, Ben went back to his house. You've been there before, right? Lyle and Emily went home with their kids. Jon Rand and Debbie went to Washington DC, and Jack Ryan went with them. My parents and Patrick went to their house in New Jersey. Ethan found an apartment a couple miles from here, before we left the Runway house, and Angelo went with him. Sydney went to Blue Cove to get some stuff, and then he's going to move to Maine and take care of the Runway house for us. Sam's in the hotel room across from ours, and I'm not sure what he's going to do. We're buying a house in Lyle and Emily's neighborhood, so your sister and I can be close to our siblings, and you can be close to Charlie."
"I was thinking about that." Miss Parker announced, when Jarod finished.
"Bout what?" Aric Joel inquired. Miss Parker looked at Jarod to see what he would say, and continued.
"Well, the house we're buying has a garage apartment. Why not ask Sam to move in there?" Aric Joel let out a whoop, and bounced over to Jarod.
"Please, Jarod? Please?" Jarod thought for a second, then nodded.
"I'll ask him tomorrow." Aric Joel whooped again, and Miss Parker laughed.
"Enough. Bed time, sport. No sugar tomorrow."
"Aww..." Aric Joel moaned, but obediently bounced across the bed and slid under the covers before either adult could blink. He squinched his eyes shut, and Jarod flicked off the main light so only the hall light was on.
"Night, Parker." He whispered, kissing her on the cheek. She kissed him back, making a funny face when her soft lips brushed the bit of stubble on his face. Miss Parker crawled under the covers next to Aric Joel, and Jarod took the second bed- both of them had previously decided that it would be better for Aric Joel if they didn't sleep together when he was in the room.
"G'night, Jarod. G'night sis." Aric Joel mumbled.
"Night, AJ." Both of them replied. All was silent.
Jack Ryan sat at a desk loaned to him by Micah Daniels, filling out a form that would change his life. Jon Rand had been pacing back and forth next to the desk, talking to James Frank the whole time. Ryan found this surprisingly unsettling, as he had always known James Frank as Mr. Cox. He tried to ignore their heated discussion, and complete the form.
Several minutes later, he was a few more lines down the page, Frank and Rand had calmed down, and the door flew open. Lloyd, Simon, Allen, Aaron, and Daniels all pour into the room with cups of coffee. Lloyd and Simon handed cups to Frank and Rand, while Daniels set one down on his desk, for Ryan.
"Hey, Clancy!" Several of the Agents called out, and Ryan attempted to glare at them. He was unsuccessful. He found to his surprise, that when the name wasn't used to spar, he didn't actually mind that much.
The room was soon filled with the sound of the Agents going over paperwork, and Daniels sat, perched, on the edge of his desk, reading a file while Ryan continued filling the form out. Occasionally, one of the men would glance towards the back room, and then to Frank and Rand, and then return to their paperwork.
"Rand," Simon finally asked to settle everyone's curiosity. "When are you going to question him?" Rand and Frank shot each other mutual indecisive looks, and Rand replied,
"Soon. The Tower's being questioned by some hot shots at the Pent, and we're waiting to hear what they say."
Speechless noise reclaimed the room, the sound instead being that of turning pages, scribbling pencils and pens, and sips of coffee. Ryan finished the form, and nudged Daniels.
"Who do I give this to?"
"Rand." Daniels replied, nodding. Ryan stood up, and tapped Ryan on the shoulder.
"Here, sir." He held out the form, and Rand accepted it, and dropped it on the desk.
"I'll take care of that. Thanks, Ryan."
"Is there anything you want me to do?" Ryan asked, unsure of where to go next.
"Find an apartment." Rand returned with a grin. "Daniels!"
"Yeah?"
"Help Clancy here find a crib." Rand ordered. Daniels nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir! Come on Clancy, let's blow this popsicle stand." Daniels grabbed his jacket, and Ryan followed him with a growing smile.
Sam had declined the offer to go out for breakfast nearly an hour ago, instead opting to stay at the hotel, take a shower, and indulge in something that had become a habit. It was ridiculous, and what's worse is he knew it was insane. But someone had been channel surfing in the Sweeper's cafeteria on SL-1 once, and had happened on a certain show. Ever since then, the Sweepers that frequented that particular cafeteria had brought their friends, until it had almost become a cult in the morning. It was a welcome break from the harsh world of the Centre, and if anyone had found out, they'd be as good as dead. Suicide would be the final measure, for the teasing they would receive would be unbearable.
Yes, at ten-o-clock, Spongebob Squarepants came on.
Sam was, to say the least, hooked.
He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, a cup of crummy hotel coffee in his hand, eyes glued to the one-eyed-god. A knock on the door startled him, and he stood up and backed towards it, thinking it was room service. He opened the door without thinking to change the channel, and Jarod stepped in with Aric Joel.
Sam was, to say the least, embarrassed.
But Jarod seemed not to notice Sam's embarrassment. All it took was one yell from Aric Joel, who had found the world of Bikini Bottom through a highly reliable source (his nephew Charlie).
"Spongebob!" Aric Joel darted across the room, and sat on the bed, in front of the TV. Jarod, who had never heard of such a beast, found himself watching as well. Sam wasn't exactly comfortable for a few minutes, expecting to hear a word of scorn come out of Jarod's mouth any minute about the stupidity of the show. But when Jarod and Aric Joel started laughing at something Spongebob did, Sam had the sinking feeling that he had just pulled someone else into the cult.
So he did the only reasonable thing. He sat down and watched it with them.
That's how Miss Parker found them ten minutes later- her fiancé, ex-Sweeper, and little brother- in front of the TV, watching a cartoon. And seemingly enthralled. She watched with them for a few minutes, in awe of the complete and utter idiocy of the entire thing. She finally cleared her throat, catching their attention.
"Come on, AJ. Let's gather your stuff." She said, signaling to Jarod that it was time for 'the talk'. Aric Joel moaned, and Jarod had to turn the TV off so he would go with her. Jarod and Sam sat in silence for a moment after she left, unable to explain to each other why they found the show so entertaining, and a bit too embarrassed to say anything else.
"Um," It was Jarod who broke the silence. "About living arrangements."
"I was thinking about going back to Blue Cove for a while." Sam replied, thinking he had saved Jarod the dirty job of kicking someone out. That someone being him. He knew that he couldn't just follow them around- that would be rude. And to ask to move in with them was completely out of the question. Sam just didn't want to impose.
"Actually, Parker and I were talking about it last night, and we both wanted to ask you if you'd move in with us. There's an apartment above our garage, and we definitely wouldn't mind, not to mention AJ. He'd be thrilled. In case you hadn't noticed, he seems to hold you in pretty high regard."
"I kinda noticed that." Sam replied with a small grin. It was kind of impossible not to notice. At the Runway house, everyone seemed to be wary of the Sweeper, while with Aric Joel it was always, 'Sam! Look at this!' or 'Sam, come with me!'.
"You can think about it for a while, if you like. You don't have to give us an answer now." Jarod added, referring to the offer. Jarod stood up, and Sam stood as well.
"I will think about it, Jarod. I really don't know what to say right now. It is kind of awkward, you have to admit."
"Yeah, it is." Jarod nodded, and chuckled. "But, so far, you've saved my sister, landed a plane without aid, nearly died for Miss Parker, and brightened up my soon to be brother-in-law's world. Not to mention, saved the marriage of the other one. I think it's safe to count you one of the family."
"Thanks, Jarod. That means a lot to me." Sam smiled, and Jarod returned the gesture as he turned to leave. He stopped halfway out of the door, and turned back.
"Sam?"
"Yes?"
"What was that show? The one we were watching before Parker came in." Sam couldn't help but laugh.
"Spongebob Squarepants."
"Thanks." As Jarod shut the door, Sam could have sworn he heard the Pretender whispering, "Just use your imagination..."
Mr. Parker sat in the back room of an FBI office, in the Washington, D.C. building. Broots, his daughter's techie, had brought him in, saying he was an FBI agent named Jon Rand. FBI? Mr. Parker inwardly laughed. Try FIB. But so far, no one seemed to be contradicting Broots' story, and that was beginning to worry him.
He also could have sworn that he heard Cox yelling something a while ago- Mr. Cox had a rather distinct voice. So Mr. Parker sat and worried. And then worried some more. The FBI being at the Centre at all was mind-blowing, and as he had been hurried out as soon as the shooting stopped, he didn't know the extent to which the Centre had been purged. The files had been destroyed, presumably by Jarod, to protect Miss Parker, Sydney, and whoever else Jarod felt compelled to 'save'.
Mr. Parker knew that Jarod's DSAs, and the weight of vocal testimony alone, would be strong enough to bring the Centre down. There would be those to testify against in court, and Mr. Parker didn't even have a decent lawyer. He had had one once, but the man had been employed by the Centre, which didn't give him much of a chance as a successful lawyer with this particular case.
Mr. Parker sighed, and leaned back in his chair. He had been faced with T-Boards before, and had easily lied all the way through them. He could manage a couple FBI Agents.
He just didn't realize how tough those Agents would be.
Two hours later...
"Listen, Mr. Parker. We can cut a deal." Jon Rand was offering a stoic Mr. Parker. "You give us the information we want, and I can get you ten to twenty off your sentence." At that, Mr. Parker perked up. Ten to twenty was a lot of time, prison wise.
"What do you need?" He asked eagerly. Forget the Tower. They were already beyond help- they had sealed their fate a long time ago. He was going to spend as little time in prison as he could.
"We have reason to believe that you have more documents, stored in another location. I want the location and the key or code to get them." Rand was lying, pulling some strings, to see if there was a possibility. Mr. Parker, however, was surprised that they knew about his stash of reports related to projects that carried a personal meaning.
"A bank, in New York. Houghton General Trust Fund and Savings. Safebox 12-90-27. The key is in my office at the Centre, in the bottom drawer. There's a false bottom, the break is at the back." Jon Rand blinked, and then quickly hid his surprise.
"Okay, we're done here for now. A guard will come and take you back to your holding cell. I'm going to go ahead and read you the building transfer guidelines. You have the right to refuse media contact. You do not have the right to request the driver to stop on the way. You do not have the right to attempt to injure any guard, officer, or possible fellow occupant of the vehicle in any way. Refusal to follow these guidelines can and will add to your sentence." As Jon Rand left the room, Mr. Parker spoke up.
"Broots?"
"It's Rand, Mr. Parker."
"Rand then. With the ten to twenty dropped, how long do you think my sentence will be?" Mr. Parker asked. Rand gave him a smirk.
"Well, I'm not quite sure sir. If you can figure out how to take ten to twenty off three lifetime sentences, then you probably didn't need Jarod after all." Rand left the room, leaving Mr. Parker stunned and speechless.
It was late, or early rather, the clock reading two in the morning. Jon Rand had not moved from his desk since the safebox of reports had been delivered to his office at about seven in the evening the day before. He was continuing to pour over the large, thick stack. His face was stiff, and his skin felt strange- the residue of dried tears. He hadn't lied to Miss Parker when he told her he still cared, and he knew this would kill them all. And therefore, it hurt him too.
He picked up another report, noting that it was the last one, and rushed through it, the contents making him gasp in surprise and slam the desk in anger.
"Damn them." He muttered, closing the report. He sat in silence for a moment, fighting back tears again. He stood, gathered the reports, and put them in his desk. He could wait until after the first few trials to tell them what he had found.
He looked at the clock, yawned, and grabbed his jacket to head home. Debbie was probably already worried sick, and he was exhausted.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" The voice asked, holding out a book. Jarod took a deep breath, and replied.
"I do."
"Proceed!" Jarod waited for the first question, and looked around the room. Everyone who had been at the Runway house was there- all twenty people. The past two weeks had been hard. Awaiting the trials, for him and Parker, decorating the house and learning to live together. Sam had decided to move in above the garage, and Aric Joel was constantly inviting Charlie over. Emily and Miss Parker had talked a lot, watching the girls play together. Spider had celebrated a fourth birthday, and was now hanging out with the 'big boys'.
Miss Parker had been ill a lot too, and Jarod was worried. Jon Rand seemed to be avoiding them for some reason, and the first trial was the first time Jarod had seen either Ethan or Angelo since they left the Runway house. Jack Ryan had announced his acceptance into the FBI, due to Frank and Rand's referral letters, and was beginning at Quantico soon.
Jarod had had time to talk to his Mom, and ended up having several conversations with his Father. Sydney and Patrick spent a surprising amount of time together, and Ben had talked to Miss Parker several times.
"Mr. Charles." The attorney spoke with an annoyed tone, and Jarod realized that she must have addressed him more than once before he heard her.
"I'm sorry," Jarod hastily acknowledged her. "Please, go on."
"To the best of your knowledge, how long were you a resident of the Centre." Jarod cringed at the lightness of title.
"Please, could you change that to prisoner?" He asked. She nodded, and made a note, as well as several others in the room. "I was four when I was brought to the Centre. They had selected me in 1961, and I was taken in 1964. I escaped in 1996."
"In your exact words, escaped? They did not release you?"
"No. I escaped. I crawled out of an air duct, and fled. A man by the name of Todd Baxter picked me up on the road- I told him my car had broken down."
"And did they pursue you, in an attempt to bring you back?"
"Yes. They did."
"Who was in charge of your, if I may put it this way, recapture?" The attorney asked. There was an awkward silence. Jarod shot an helpless look to Miss Parker, and she stood up.
"I was, your honor." Parker spoke.
"I see. Do we have a trial date arranged for her? Why is she not in custody?" Someone slipped over to whisper something in the Judge's ear, and he nodded.
"No. There is no wish to prosecute the said subject at this time." The Judge announced. Miss Parker slowly sat back down.
"Objection!" Mr. Parker's lawyer shouted, slamming a hand down on a table. "You can't exclude one, and prosecute the other. Court law forbids selective trial." The gavel cracked down on hard wood, ringing throughout the room and bringing silence.
"Objection overruled." The Judge said thickly. He nodded to the other attorney. "Continue." The attorney made a note on her legal pad, and spoke in hushed whispers to another man near her vacant seat. She walked back over to Jarod.
"Why do you not chose to prosecute Miss Parker?"
"She was a product of the circumstances." Jarod replied crisply. "Mr. Parker's decisions were all for personal gain- hers were for survival."
"And you agree with, abide by, and/or uphold these methods of survival?"
"Not entirely. But I understand why she made the choices she made, now."
"Your Honor, I'm through with the witness." The attorney announced, reclaiming her seat. Mr. Parker's lawyer stalked over to Jarod.
"Do you have a personal relationship with Miss Parker?" He fired the first question. Jarod's attorney's voice rang out firmly.
"Objection! Mr. Parker is currently on trial. Personal relationships with those other than the current plaintiff are unnecessary and considered unlawful."
"I concur." The Judge nodded. "Another question, or call the next witness to the stand."
Jarod sighed as Mr. Parker's lawyer opened his mouth to asked the next question- it was going to be a decidedly long day.
