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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. If I owed them we'd still be watching new episodes.
One Good Turn Part 3
DSA
By Phenyx
Miss Parker propped a pillow under one arm and tucked a quilted throw blanket around her legs. Curling her hands around a cup of hot herbal tea, she made herself comfortable on the couch in her living room. She settled in with the DSA player beside her, intent on viewing the two disks that Broots had found earlier.
After the three of them had watched the appalling scene on the monitor at The Centre, Parker, Sydney and Broots had stared at each other in numb disbelief. Several minutes had passed before the shock wore off and the frustration set in. After searching so diligently, they had finally found Jarod's location, only to have Lyle move him again. At a loss for what they should do next, Parker had finally decided to let Broots resume the search while she did her best to stay out of his way.
Parker was troubled by Jarod's obvious dependence on the narcotic supplied by Lyle. The track marks she had seen on Jarod's forearm indicated frequent injections. She wondered briefly what medication had been in the syringe. Perhaps she could learn more as she went through the recordings made over the past month.
Sighing heavily, Parker took a sip from her cup, slid the first disk into the slot and began playing the images on the screen.
The text visible in the bottom left hand corner of the screen indicated that these first images had been taken the same day that Parker had fallen through the ice. The room was dark and empty for several minutes before the door suddenly swung open and Jarod was shoved roughly inside.
Jarod looked ragged and wrinkled. He was wearing regular street clothes that looked as though they were still wet. Dried blood was visible on one side of his face, though an attempt to clean most of it away seemed to have been made. An adhesive bandage was pasted on his forehead, holding together a nasty cut yellow with iodine.
Jarod's face was pale and he was shivering. His teeth chattered with cold. Parker tried to suppress a shudder and pulled her warm cup closer to her chest. She pitied Jarod, though she knew that the image she watched was more than a month old. Parker had been rushed to a hospital that day. Suffering from hypothermia, Parker had been stripped of her icy wet clothes and an entire medical team had worked to warm her.
It looked as though Jarod hadn't been given so much as a dry towel.
Upon entering the tiny room, Jarod surveyed his surroundings with a glance. The contents were sparse. The only furnishings in the space were a cot and a small end table. Jarod looked at the table curiously for a moment. Parker smirked as she realized he was thinking of ways to use it as a means of escape.
Jarod then went quickly to the cot. The bare mattress was thin and worn so rather than lying on top of it, Jarod lifted the mattress, wrapped it around his body and lay down on the bare springs of the cot. Using the mattress as a blanket, Jarod curled into a tight ball in an effort to create some warmth. Within moments, the weary pretender had fallen into a shivering and fitful sleep.
The next several hours' worth of recordings went by uneventfully. As a result, Parker forwarded through it quickly. After more than a day had passed, Raines and Lyle finally made an appearance along with the same two burly sweepers Parker had seen this afternoon. Jarod sprang from the bed as they entered and watched warily from the other side of the room.
Raines studied Jarod intently then, turning to the sweepers he gasped, "Do it." Turning slowly, Raines left the room.
Jarod valiantly took a swing at one of the larger men as they closed in on him. But the guards quickly over powered the smaller man. Parker watched in guilty fascination as Jarod's clothes were removed from his lean body. Lyle tossed the nude pretender a pile of institutional gray colored cotton.
"Put these on." Lyle said.
"No." Jarod growled.
Lyle crouched down in front of Jarod and grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Get dressed or stay naked," Lyle purred. "Makes no difference to me. You are the one who will be cold. No one else is going to see you."
Jarod pulled away from Lyle contemptuously. "Your sister might." Jarod said. "She has a way of showing up in places she is not supposed to be."
Lyle's eyebrow's shot up his forehead. "Didn't anyone tell you?" He asked.
"Tell me what?" Jarod frowned.
A cruel smile broke out on Lyle's face. "She went into shock on the way to the hospital." Lyle said. "She died in the ambulance."
Jarod gasped. Looking up at Lyle from his position on the floor, Jarod slowly shook his head. "You're lying." He whispered.
Lyle shrugged. "I don't care if you believe me, Jarod. It is really none of your damned business." After a quick motion to the sweepers, the two guards plucked Jarod from the ground and dragged him to the cot. Pinning him to the mattress, one sweeper held Jarod's arm while Lyle prepared a syringe.
When Jarod noticed the needle and the clear fluid within, he began to fight with renewed energy. But even kicking and screaming, Jarod couldn't prevent Lyle from giving him the injection. The narcotic began taking effect almost immediately. Jarod rolled away from the guards as they released their hold on his arms. Staggering and stumbling, Jarod tried to get as far away from the other men as possible.
Jarod's eyes were rolling around in his head when Lyle leaned toward him. "You'll have to tell me what you think of our newest invention." Lyle cooed. "We haven't got a street name for it yet, but it's sure to be quite a nice little revenue generator. Do you like it?"
Jarod gasped in response and huddled naked in the corner of the room as the drug took over his mind.
Lyle chuckled triumphantly and left the room with the sweepers.
According to the images on the DSA disks, the next several days passed with a ghastly routine. At regular intervals, Lyle would appear in the room with the two sweepers. The guards would hold Jarod down while Lyle forced the syringe into the helpless man's arm. Dumping Jarod in a corner, the other men would then leave until it was time for another injection.
Just as the drug began to wear off and Jarod started to show signs of coherence, Lyle would return with another shot. No food or water was brought to the room for days. By the end of the week, Jarod's struggling was markedly less forceful.
One day, about a week into Jarod's captivity, the routine abruptly changed. Jarod roused from his drug-induced stupor. Starved and neglected, it was obvious that Jarod had lost weight. For a time, he seemed disoriented, as though he had forgotten where he was. As the next several hours slipped by, Jarod began to exhibit anxious behavior. Even as weak as he was, he paced the length of the room like a caged animal.
Parker recognized the signs of withdrawal and was stunned at the speed with which the pretender had become addicted. "Bastards." She whispered to herself. "They've created a highly- addictive designer drug to sell on the streets."
What better way to ensure a steady stream of repeat customers? Get some poor sap hooked after just a few days and he'll sell his soul for his next fix.
As Parker watched the DSA, she could see that Jarod was in need of a fix himself and he knew it. His hands shook uncontrollably so Jarod tucked them under his arms in an effort to control the trembling. Perspiration broke out on his brow. Jarod sat on the cot and tried some deep breathing and relaxation techniques. But as time wore on, it became apparent that his body had come to depend upon the medication.
For a while, Jarod simply sat on the cot and rocked back and forth. When he curled into a tight ball, Parker realized that Jarod was in physical pain and suffering badly. As hours went by with no sign of Lyle, Jarod's condition worsened until he had been reduced to a trembling, sweaty creature huddled on the floor in the corner of his cell.
When Lyle did finally show up, he came into the room alone, carrying a meal on a tray. Dressed entirely in black, Lyle grinned at Jarod like an evil maitre d'.
"Good evening, Jarod." Lyle chirped, setting the tray down on the cot.
Jarod glared at Lyle. "Where have you been?" Jarod growled. He winced as the question fell from his lips. Jarod hadn't wanted Lyle to know how badly he was hurting.
Lyle shrugged. "I was at the funeral." He said. "There were so few mourners present. It would have been inappropriate for me to leave before the service ended. She was my sister after all."
Jarod's entire body stilled as though he'd been frozen in time. Parker could see the doubt run across Jarod's face as he struggled with what Lyle was telling him.
Lyle crouched on his haunches in front of Jarod and gazed at the pretender thoughtfully. Cocking his head curiously to one side, Lyle said, "Miss Parker was one of the many things that you and I have in common. Do you realize that, Jarod?"
Jarod closed his eyes and sighed. "What do you mean?" He asked, obviously wary of Lyle's answer.
"Well," Lyle said. "She hated us. She hated us both in a very unique and special way. Didn't she?"
Jarod nodded slowly in response.
Lyle grinned crookedly. "I know how much she hated me." Lyle said. "But she was still my big sister. She protected me in her own strange way, you know." Lyle leaned toward Jarod meaningfully. "Much the same way that she sometimes protected you."
Jarod's deep brown eyes stared forlornly at Lyle across the space that separated them. He said nothing.
"And we both loved to torment her!" Lyle chuckled, slapping one knee ruefully. "She was beautiful when she was angry." Lyle added with a sigh.
Jarod's lower lip began to quiver and he bit down on it hard, worrying the flesh between his teeth.
"It is ironic." Lyle said after a momentary pause. "She always used to say that you would be the death of her someday. I guess she was right." Puffing out a lungful of air, Lyle sighed heavily. "Enough reminiscing, what's done is done."
Lyle fumbled in his pocket and brought forth a syringe, holding it up so Jarod could see it. Rather than struggle against the injection, Jarod sat motionless while Lyle gave him the shot.
"Now wasn't that easy?" Lyle cooed as he stood. Retrieving the tray from where he had left it, Lyle placed the metal platter on the floor next to Jarod, nodded pleasantly at the pretender and then left the room.
Staring at the tray with eyes that were quickly glazing over, Jarod frowned at the goop that Lyle was trying to pass off as food. Moving slowly, Jarod carefully lifted a cup of water to his lips and drank it contents in long swallows. When he'd finished, he pressing the cup against his forehead, sighing at the coolness.
Jarod's eyes drifted shut and he began to tremble again. He talked to himself in a broken sigh. "It's not true, not true." Jarod whispered. "Keep it together, Jarod. Stay focused, try to stay focused."
He swallowed hard. "Not true, not true." Jarod mumbled again. "You would know. Somehow you would know." He shook his head woefully. "She can't be dead." He moaned.
Jarod lifted the metal tray from the floor and set it despondently in his lap. For a moment, all he did was stare at its vulgar contents. With a wail of rage, he suddenly threw the tray across the small room where it clattered loudly against the concrete wall. Sobbing brokenly, Jarod slid down the metal bars to lie on the floor. Hugging his knees to his chest, Jarod curled into a ball of misery and wept.
Parker heaved a sigh as she fought back tears. It pained her to know that Jarod might be blaming himself for her death. Without thinking, Parker placed her fingertips on the view screen and caressed the image of Jarod's face. "I'm here." She whispered. Parker abruptly dropped her hand to her lap as she realized that the recording she was watching had been made almost three weeks ago.
Stealing her emotions for what was to come, Parker forwarded the disk.
Jarod's next several days were punctuated by violent visits from Mr. Lyle and settings abruptly changed as Jarod was moved to another room. Harsh beatings and other torture preceded each injection for the next week. Lyle made no further mention of Miss Parker's supposed demise, nor did Jarod ask about it.
Jarod spent most of the time passed out or in a drug-induced stupor. Meals were brought to him with some regularity. Desperate for nourishment, Jarod had eventually been forced to eat the optimized nutritional supplement brought in on the trays.
Parker was well into the second disk when she saw something that shocked her into a senseless fury. The date on the screen indicated that the recording had been made just ten days ago. Jarod was dozing in his cell. He was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the bars. His legs were pulled near his body and his forearms rested on his upright knees. Jarod's head hung forlornly, his chin nearly to his chest, as he slept.
The room itself was a much larger space, pitch dark near the edges. Four walls of metal bars formed an enclosed cell in the center of the room. This cell was empty aside from the solitary captive within. Parker could hear a heavy clanking sound from the darkness and footsteps echoed toward the illuminated center of the room.
Two figures stopped just at the edges of the screen. Hidden by shadow with their backs to the camera, Parker could not identify the men at first.
"Remember our deal." Lyle's voice whispered from one of the black figures.
"I remember." A familiar accented voice replied.
"I mean it, Sydney." Lyle hissed. "You corroborate whatever I say or I swear you will watch Jarod suffer for your actions."
Parker could see the second figure nod curtly. The men walked closer to the cell and into the lighted portion of the room.
"Look who has come to visit, Jarod." Lyle said loudly.
Jarod woke with a start and jerked his head around to stare mutely at the visitors for a moment. Bleary-eyed and dopey from the drugs at first, Jarod blinked up at the men in confusion. Then with a gasp, he dragged himself up to stand pressed against the steel.
"Sydney!" Jarod cried, reaching out to his old mentor through the bars.
"Jarod!" Sydney grasped the younger man's hand with both of his own and gazed at him with concern.
Jarod closed his eyes and gasped, his lips trembling as he asked quietly, "How is Miss Parker?"
Sydney frowned and started to speak but Lyle cut him off.
"Now is not a good time to discuss it, Jarod." Lyle said in a clipped tone. "Sydney has spent the day going through the things in her office. It's been a difficult time for him." Lyle voice took on a smooth condescending tone. "After all, Sydney knew her longer than any of us. Didn't you Sydney?" Lyle asked as he cast a pointed look at the older man.
Sydney stared at Lyle wide-eyed, mouth agape. He was obviously stunned by the magnitude of the lie he had already promised to support. Lyle glanced at him expectantly and frowned.
Sydney sighed sadly. "Yes." He whispered.". I. I did."
Jarod flinched as if he'd been struck. "She's dead?" Jarod asked in a coarse whisper.
"I'm sorry, Jarod." Sydney whispered.
Parker's jaw clenched as she watched. It was glaringly obvious that Sydney's words were chosen specifically for the way that Jarod would interpret them. Though the psychiatrist had not really lied, he had essentially supported Lyle's version of events. Jarod clearly believed that Parker was dead.
Backing away across the cell, Jarod stared at the two men in wide-eyed shock. His eye's filled with tears as he slowly shook his head back and forth in denial. "No." he whispered.
"I tried to tell you." Lyle said with a shrug.
"Sydney," Jarod voice broke. "Tell me it not true."
Sydney shook his head. "I'm so sorry."
Jarod backed up until his back struck the opposite wall. With nowhere else to go, Jarod began to tremble. He looked around the space like a lost child. Shuddering with each breath as though the act itself caused him pain, Jarod gasped and sank to his knees. "No." He moaned. Tears began to flow down his cheeks when he looked up at Sydney and whispered mournfully. "I didn't mean it. I didn't."
Sydney quickly moved to the other side of the cell where Jarod lay. Reaching past the bars Sydney placed a hand gently on Jarod's shoulder. "She wouldn't want us to grieve for her." The older man said softly.
"We had no one to grieve for us, Sydney. We only ever had each other." Jarod whispered dejectedly. "If I don't grieve for her, then who else will?" With that the pretender began to sob in deep hiccupping gasps. Curling into a tight ball of abject misery, Jarod wept.
"Jarod." Sydney said firmly, shaking Jarod's shoulder. "Don't do this to yourself. You didn't kill her."
Jerking his body away from Sydney's touch, Jarod wailed, "Leave me alone! Please, I want to be alone."
Grinning triumphantly, Lyle took Sydney by the arm and dragged him out of the room.
Once the other two men had left, Jarod rolled onto his back on the floor. Arms flung wide, he stared up at the ceiling while tears ran unchecked down the sides of his face. "I'm sorry." He whispered to the fixtures above.
Parker watched the screen helplessly as Jarod continued to mourn for her. He was obviously shattered, weeping uncontrollably for hours. Moisture built in her own eyes as she realized the irony of it all. The one person she had been trained to hunt down and destroy was grieving for her as no other soul could.
Her pain transformed suddenly into an anger that surged violently through Parker's body. Lyle's lies were one thing. He was a deceitful two-faced whoremonger, never to be trusted. Jarod had known better than to believe anything Lyle said. But the one person Jarod trusted most had helped Lyle in this betrayal.
Parker tossed aside the blanket covering her and stormed through the house to get some shoes. She didn't care that it was after midnight. Parker's fury was like a live thing churning through her body. She would seek retribution tonight. Sydney was going to pay for his part in this treachery. Parker tossed on a jacket, grabbed up her keys and slammed out of the house.
Parker didn't stop to wonder why she was so upset. It never occurred to her that Jarod's anguish should not affect her this way. She knew only that the pretender was hurting and if Parker could not stop the pain for him, the least she could do was to make someone pay.
Tires squealed as Parker recklessly maneuvered the car onto the street and headed for Sydney's.
One Good Turn Part 3
DSA
By Phenyx
Miss Parker propped a pillow under one arm and tucked a quilted throw blanket around her legs. Curling her hands around a cup of hot herbal tea, she made herself comfortable on the couch in her living room. She settled in with the DSA player beside her, intent on viewing the two disks that Broots had found earlier.
After the three of them had watched the appalling scene on the monitor at The Centre, Parker, Sydney and Broots had stared at each other in numb disbelief. Several minutes had passed before the shock wore off and the frustration set in. After searching so diligently, they had finally found Jarod's location, only to have Lyle move him again. At a loss for what they should do next, Parker had finally decided to let Broots resume the search while she did her best to stay out of his way.
Parker was troubled by Jarod's obvious dependence on the narcotic supplied by Lyle. The track marks she had seen on Jarod's forearm indicated frequent injections. She wondered briefly what medication had been in the syringe. Perhaps she could learn more as she went through the recordings made over the past month.
Sighing heavily, Parker took a sip from her cup, slid the first disk into the slot and began playing the images on the screen.
The text visible in the bottom left hand corner of the screen indicated that these first images had been taken the same day that Parker had fallen through the ice. The room was dark and empty for several minutes before the door suddenly swung open and Jarod was shoved roughly inside.
Jarod looked ragged and wrinkled. He was wearing regular street clothes that looked as though they were still wet. Dried blood was visible on one side of his face, though an attempt to clean most of it away seemed to have been made. An adhesive bandage was pasted on his forehead, holding together a nasty cut yellow with iodine.
Jarod's face was pale and he was shivering. His teeth chattered with cold. Parker tried to suppress a shudder and pulled her warm cup closer to her chest. She pitied Jarod, though she knew that the image she watched was more than a month old. Parker had been rushed to a hospital that day. Suffering from hypothermia, Parker had been stripped of her icy wet clothes and an entire medical team had worked to warm her.
It looked as though Jarod hadn't been given so much as a dry towel.
Upon entering the tiny room, Jarod surveyed his surroundings with a glance. The contents were sparse. The only furnishings in the space were a cot and a small end table. Jarod looked at the table curiously for a moment. Parker smirked as she realized he was thinking of ways to use it as a means of escape.
Jarod then went quickly to the cot. The bare mattress was thin and worn so rather than lying on top of it, Jarod lifted the mattress, wrapped it around his body and lay down on the bare springs of the cot. Using the mattress as a blanket, Jarod curled into a tight ball in an effort to create some warmth. Within moments, the weary pretender had fallen into a shivering and fitful sleep.
The next several hours' worth of recordings went by uneventfully. As a result, Parker forwarded through it quickly. After more than a day had passed, Raines and Lyle finally made an appearance along with the same two burly sweepers Parker had seen this afternoon. Jarod sprang from the bed as they entered and watched warily from the other side of the room.
Raines studied Jarod intently then, turning to the sweepers he gasped, "Do it." Turning slowly, Raines left the room.
Jarod valiantly took a swing at one of the larger men as they closed in on him. But the guards quickly over powered the smaller man. Parker watched in guilty fascination as Jarod's clothes were removed from his lean body. Lyle tossed the nude pretender a pile of institutional gray colored cotton.
"Put these on." Lyle said.
"No." Jarod growled.
Lyle crouched down in front of Jarod and grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Get dressed or stay naked," Lyle purred. "Makes no difference to me. You are the one who will be cold. No one else is going to see you."
Jarod pulled away from Lyle contemptuously. "Your sister might." Jarod said. "She has a way of showing up in places she is not supposed to be."
Lyle's eyebrow's shot up his forehead. "Didn't anyone tell you?" He asked.
"Tell me what?" Jarod frowned.
A cruel smile broke out on Lyle's face. "She went into shock on the way to the hospital." Lyle said. "She died in the ambulance."
Jarod gasped. Looking up at Lyle from his position on the floor, Jarod slowly shook his head. "You're lying." He whispered.
Lyle shrugged. "I don't care if you believe me, Jarod. It is really none of your damned business." After a quick motion to the sweepers, the two guards plucked Jarod from the ground and dragged him to the cot. Pinning him to the mattress, one sweeper held Jarod's arm while Lyle prepared a syringe.
When Jarod noticed the needle and the clear fluid within, he began to fight with renewed energy. But even kicking and screaming, Jarod couldn't prevent Lyle from giving him the injection. The narcotic began taking effect almost immediately. Jarod rolled away from the guards as they released their hold on his arms. Staggering and stumbling, Jarod tried to get as far away from the other men as possible.
Jarod's eyes were rolling around in his head when Lyle leaned toward him. "You'll have to tell me what you think of our newest invention." Lyle cooed. "We haven't got a street name for it yet, but it's sure to be quite a nice little revenue generator. Do you like it?"
Jarod gasped in response and huddled naked in the corner of the room as the drug took over his mind.
Lyle chuckled triumphantly and left the room with the sweepers.
According to the images on the DSA disks, the next several days passed with a ghastly routine. At regular intervals, Lyle would appear in the room with the two sweepers. The guards would hold Jarod down while Lyle forced the syringe into the helpless man's arm. Dumping Jarod in a corner, the other men would then leave until it was time for another injection.
Just as the drug began to wear off and Jarod started to show signs of coherence, Lyle would return with another shot. No food or water was brought to the room for days. By the end of the week, Jarod's struggling was markedly less forceful.
One day, about a week into Jarod's captivity, the routine abruptly changed. Jarod roused from his drug-induced stupor. Starved and neglected, it was obvious that Jarod had lost weight. For a time, he seemed disoriented, as though he had forgotten where he was. As the next several hours slipped by, Jarod began to exhibit anxious behavior. Even as weak as he was, he paced the length of the room like a caged animal.
Parker recognized the signs of withdrawal and was stunned at the speed with which the pretender had become addicted. "Bastards." She whispered to herself. "They've created a highly- addictive designer drug to sell on the streets."
What better way to ensure a steady stream of repeat customers? Get some poor sap hooked after just a few days and he'll sell his soul for his next fix.
As Parker watched the DSA, she could see that Jarod was in need of a fix himself and he knew it. His hands shook uncontrollably so Jarod tucked them under his arms in an effort to control the trembling. Perspiration broke out on his brow. Jarod sat on the cot and tried some deep breathing and relaxation techniques. But as time wore on, it became apparent that his body had come to depend upon the medication.
For a while, Jarod simply sat on the cot and rocked back and forth. When he curled into a tight ball, Parker realized that Jarod was in physical pain and suffering badly. As hours went by with no sign of Lyle, Jarod's condition worsened until he had been reduced to a trembling, sweaty creature huddled on the floor in the corner of his cell.
When Lyle did finally show up, he came into the room alone, carrying a meal on a tray. Dressed entirely in black, Lyle grinned at Jarod like an evil maitre d'.
"Good evening, Jarod." Lyle chirped, setting the tray down on the cot.
Jarod glared at Lyle. "Where have you been?" Jarod growled. He winced as the question fell from his lips. Jarod hadn't wanted Lyle to know how badly he was hurting.
Lyle shrugged. "I was at the funeral." He said. "There were so few mourners present. It would have been inappropriate for me to leave before the service ended. She was my sister after all."
Jarod's entire body stilled as though he'd been frozen in time. Parker could see the doubt run across Jarod's face as he struggled with what Lyle was telling him.
Lyle crouched on his haunches in front of Jarod and gazed at the pretender thoughtfully. Cocking his head curiously to one side, Lyle said, "Miss Parker was one of the many things that you and I have in common. Do you realize that, Jarod?"
Jarod closed his eyes and sighed. "What do you mean?" He asked, obviously wary of Lyle's answer.
"Well," Lyle said. "She hated us. She hated us both in a very unique and special way. Didn't she?"
Jarod nodded slowly in response.
Lyle grinned crookedly. "I know how much she hated me." Lyle said. "But she was still my big sister. She protected me in her own strange way, you know." Lyle leaned toward Jarod meaningfully. "Much the same way that she sometimes protected you."
Jarod's deep brown eyes stared forlornly at Lyle across the space that separated them. He said nothing.
"And we both loved to torment her!" Lyle chuckled, slapping one knee ruefully. "She was beautiful when she was angry." Lyle added with a sigh.
Jarod's lower lip began to quiver and he bit down on it hard, worrying the flesh between his teeth.
"It is ironic." Lyle said after a momentary pause. "She always used to say that you would be the death of her someday. I guess she was right." Puffing out a lungful of air, Lyle sighed heavily. "Enough reminiscing, what's done is done."
Lyle fumbled in his pocket and brought forth a syringe, holding it up so Jarod could see it. Rather than struggle against the injection, Jarod sat motionless while Lyle gave him the shot.
"Now wasn't that easy?" Lyle cooed as he stood. Retrieving the tray from where he had left it, Lyle placed the metal platter on the floor next to Jarod, nodded pleasantly at the pretender and then left the room.
Staring at the tray with eyes that were quickly glazing over, Jarod frowned at the goop that Lyle was trying to pass off as food. Moving slowly, Jarod carefully lifted a cup of water to his lips and drank it contents in long swallows. When he'd finished, he pressing the cup against his forehead, sighing at the coolness.
Jarod's eyes drifted shut and he began to tremble again. He talked to himself in a broken sigh. "It's not true, not true." Jarod whispered. "Keep it together, Jarod. Stay focused, try to stay focused."
He swallowed hard. "Not true, not true." Jarod mumbled again. "You would know. Somehow you would know." He shook his head woefully. "She can't be dead." He moaned.
Jarod lifted the metal tray from the floor and set it despondently in his lap. For a moment, all he did was stare at its vulgar contents. With a wail of rage, he suddenly threw the tray across the small room where it clattered loudly against the concrete wall. Sobbing brokenly, Jarod slid down the metal bars to lie on the floor. Hugging his knees to his chest, Jarod curled into a ball of misery and wept.
Parker heaved a sigh as she fought back tears. It pained her to know that Jarod might be blaming himself for her death. Without thinking, Parker placed her fingertips on the view screen and caressed the image of Jarod's face. "I'm here." She whispered. Parker abruptly dropped her hand to her lap as she realized that the recording she was watching had been made almost three weeks ago.
Stealing her emotions for what was to come, Parker forwarded the disk.
Jarod's next several days were punctuated by violent visits from Mr. Lyle and settings abruptly changed as Jarod was moved to another room. Harsh beatings and other torture preceded each injection for the next week. Lyle made no further mention of Miss Parker's supposed demise, nor did Jarod ask about it.
Jarod spent most of the time passed out or in a drug-induced stupor. Meals were brought to him with some regularity. Desperate for nourishment, Jarod had eventually been forced to eat the optimized nutritional supplement brought in on the trays.
Parker was well into the second disk when she saw something that shocked her into a senseless fury. The date on the screen indicated that the recording had been made just ten days ago. Jarod was dozing in his cell. He was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the bars. His legs were pulled near his body and his forearms rested on his upright knees. Jarod's head hung forlornly, his chin nearly to his chest, as he slept.
The room itself was a much larger space, pitch dark near the edges. Four walls of metal bars formed an enclosed cell in the center of the room. This cell was empty aside from the solitary captive within. Parker could hear a heavy clanking sound from the darkness and footsteps echoed toward the illuminated center of the room.
Two figures stopped just at the edges of the screen. Hidden by shadow with their backs to the camera, Parker could not identify the men at first.
"Remember our deal." Lyle's voice whispered from one of the black figures.
"I remember." A familiar accented voice replied.
"I mean it, Sydney." Lyle hissed. "You corroborate whatever I say or I swear you will watch Jarod suffer for your actions."
Parker could see the second figure nod curtly. The men walked closer to the cell and into the lighted portion of the room.
"Look who has come to visit, Jarod." Lyle said loudly.
Jarod woke with a start and jerked his head around to stare mutely at the visitors for a moment. Bleary-eyed and dopey from the drugs at first, Jarod blinked up at the men in confusion. Then with a gasp, he dragged himself up to stand pressed against the steel.
"Sydney!" Jarod cried, reaching out to his old mentor through the bars.
"Jarod!" Sydney grasped the younger man's hand with both of his own and gazed at him with concern.
Jarod closed his eyes and gasped, his lips trembling as he asked quietly, "How is Miss Parker?"
Sydney frowned and started to speak but Lyle cut him off.
"Now is not a good time to discuss it, Jarod." Lyle said in a clipped tone. "Sydney has spent the day going through the things in her office. It's been a difficult time for him." Lyle voice took on a smooth condescending tone. "After all, Sydney knew her longer than any of us. Didn't you Sydney?" Lyle asked as he cast a pointed look at the older man.
Sydney stared at Lyle wide-eyed, mouth agape. He was obviously stunned by the magnitude of the lie he had already promised to support. Lyle glanced at him expectantly and frowned.
Sydney sighed sadly. "Yes." He whispered.". I. I did."
Jarod flinched as if he'd been struck. "She's dead?" Jarod asked in a coarse whisper.
"I'm sorry, Jarod." Sydney whispered.
Parker's jaw clenched as she watched. It was glaringly obvious that Sydney's words were chosen specifically for the way that Jarod would interpret them. Though the psychiatrist had not really lied, he had essentially supported Lyle's version of events. Jarod clearly believed that Parker was dead.
Backing away across the cell, Jarod stared at the two men in wide-eyed shock. His eye's filled with tears as he slowly shook his head back and forth in denial. "No." he whispered.
"I tried to tell you." Lyle said with a shrug.
"Sydney," Jarod voice broke. "Tell me it not true."
Sydney shook his head. "I'm so sorry."
Jarod backed up until his back struck the opposite wall. With nowhere else to go, Jarod began to tremble. He looked around the space like a lost child. Shuddering with each breath as though the act itself caused him pain, Jarod gasped and sank to his knees. "No." He moaned. Tears began to flow down his cheeks when he looked up at Sydney and whispered mournfully. "I didn't mean it. I didn't."
Sydney quickly moved to the other side of the cell where Jarod lay. Reaching past the bars Sydney placed a hand gently on Jarod's shoulder. "She wouldn't want us to grieve for her." The older man said softly.
"We had no one to grieve for us, Sydney. We only ever had each other." Jarod whispered dejectedly. "If I don't grieve for her, then who else will?" With that the pretender began to sob in deep hiccupping gasps. Curling into a tight ball of abject misery, Jarod wept.
"Jarod." Sydney said firmly, shaking Jarod's shoulder. "Don't do this to yourself. You didn't kill her."
Jerking his body away from Sydney's touch, Jarod wailed, "Leave me alone! Please, I want to be alone."
Grinning triumphantly, Lyle took Sydney by the arm and dragged him out of the room.
Once the other two men had left, Jarod rolled onto his back on the floor. Arms flung wide, he stared up at the ceiling while tears ran unchecked down the sides of his face. "I'm sorry." He whispered to the fixtures above.
Parker watched the screen helplessly as Jarod continued to mourn for her. He was obviously shattered, weeping uncontrollably for hours. Moisture built in her own eyes as she realized the irony of it all. The one person she had been trained to hunt down and destroy was grieving for her as no other soul could.
Her pain transformed suddenly into an anger that surged violently through Parker's body. Lyle's lies were one thing. He was a deceitful two-faced whoremonger, never to be trusted. Jarod had known better than to believe anything Lyle said. But the one person Jarod trusted most had helped Lyle in this betrayal.
Parker tossed aside the blanket covering her and stormed through the house to get some shoes. She didn't care that it was after midnight. Parker's fury was like a live thing churning through her body. She would seek retribution tonight. Sydney was going to pay for his part in this treachery. Parker tossed on a jacket, grabbed up her keys and slammed out of the house.
Parker didn't stop to wonder why she was so upset. It never occurred to her that Jarod's anguish should not affect her this way. She knew only that the pretender was hurting and if Parker could not stop the pain for him, the least she could do was to make someone pay.
Tires squealed as Parker recklessly maneuvered the car onto the street and headed for Sydney's.
