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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
Okay, this little idea popped into my head and since I didn't have time to write it alone, I drafted some friends to help me. Fortunately or unfortunately, the little idea has turned into what will be an epic by the time it's done. So we decided to post this first part now. Be warned that there are spoilers for virtually everything involving Mr. Lyle since his debut, and basically for all four seasons of the show. For those who haven't seen it yet, this picks up directly from the last scene of Mr. Lyle and Parker together in "Agent of the Year Zero"
Renwal Wing is a group of authors :Niceole, Trish, Shannon, Paula and Nicolette.
This little piece is dedicated to Lois for her utter devotion to "The Pretender" overall, and to Mr. Lyle in particular.
The Road Taken
part 1
by Renewal Wing
"You're insane."
Lyle watched as Parker finished speaking, her eyes taking in the smile he had plastered on his face. Then, almost shivering, she turned and walked out of the room.
His smile fell instantly. Moving quickly toward his desk, he picked up the phone and dialed in a pager number. Following the succession of beeps, he entered the 3-digit code 999 - it meant only one thing to its recipient - I need to talk now.
Lyle returned the Chinese food container to the refrigerator, grabbed his suit jacket and then pulled on the expensive piece of craftsmanship. He paused in front of the mirror to make certain his usual cold Mr. Lyle face was in place. Then he turned and exited the office.
***
Corinna St. John strolled through the parking garage toward the elevator that would take her to the condominium she purchased for when business brought her to Blue Cove. Fortunately, that wasn't often. Her life and her career were in Washington, but there were times when her presence here was required.
The elevator ride was a brief one and soon the doors opened on the fifth floor of the Franklin Regency Towers. She walked to her front door, fumbling momentarily with the keys. Then she opened the door and entered her darkened temporary home.
He was sitting in a chair that stood next to her fireplace. The only light in the room came from the slats in the patio door blinds, and they cast strange thin shadows on his face. She saw that his fingers were crossed, forming a kind of steeple as the tips rested against his chin.
Corinna took her time removing her coat and gloves, then she crossed to the sofa. She did not turn on the light. That he had not done so himself was an indication of how troubled he was, and she felt it best to let him set the tone for their talk.
They sat that way, together in the dark, for a long while, and then finally, Lyle lowered his hands and began to speak.
"She's terrified of me."
"I thought that's what you wanted. That was the goal, wasn't it?"
"She tries to cover it, to pretend that she isn't afraid, but I saw it in her eyes today. She really believes..."
His voice trailed off, and Corinna shifted her position so she could lean closer to him. The sun was moving, and the shadows that had given her some view of his face were disappearing, yet she felt a need to keep direct eye contact with him.
"Lyle, isn't that what you wanted? Parker can't be allowed to become an obstacle, we're agreed on this."
"I know that. I haven't forgotten what I'm trying to accomplish."
"Then what's the problem?"
"When it's over, what if it's too late?"
To Corinna, business had always been strictly business. Lyle had changed that. Their collaboration often left her feeling more emotional, more vulnerable than anything else in her life. She knew all too well the demons that had driven Lyle onto his current course, and despite her best efforts to stay distanced from him, she could never shake the emptiness she detected inside of him during these talks.
"It's never too late for the truth, Lyle. Never."
***
It was late when Lyle finally left Corinna's, and instead of heading upstairs to his own home, he went down to his car and drove off into the night. After a series of twists and turns, he was on the road to the coast, the moon illuminating his way down the winding drive along the ocean's shore.
This was not what he'd envisioned for himself all those years ago when he'd been walking across the Bowman farm and seen his father waving him over to meet the man from the "adoption agency." Back then he had planned to follow in his father's footsteps, maybe expand the farm into horse breeding. But meeting William Raines had changed all that.
>From that first day Raines had begun to work on him, striving to program him to be a tool of the Centre. Raines's aim was simple - Lyle was meant to be an assassin, and he'd had every intention of turning the boy into one. The old bastard had even had a master plan to perfect Lyle's killing techniques, one that had begun with the murder of the teen's best friend.
Lyle still remembered with horror the sound of the shovel crashing into the boy's skull. He'd turned around to see his friend falling and Raines standing there with a near maniacal look on his face. Shocked, his stomach knotting with fear, Lyle had tried to turn away, but Raines had called out to him.
"No. It's time for you to move on. You need to finish this to prove to me that you are ready."
Then the ghastly creature held out the shovel to Lyle. When Lyle had hesitated, Raines narrowed his eyes, fixing his most terrifying glare on the boy.
"Now, Bobby. I've done the hard part. Now, you dispose of the body."
Back in the present, Lyle shook his head, trying to push away the memories of that terrible day. It was true that it had been his choice to frame Lyle Bowman for the murder, he who had cut off the boy's head and hidden the body away until it had decomposed enough to prevent identification by anything other than the tattered remnant of clothing found on the body, but still, Lyle knew that Raines had set him on a path that day that almost nothing could have ever saved him from.
Nothing but the truth.
Funny how the truth finds you. When he'd enrolled at the University of Virginia under his alias Jan Hooper, it had been under Raines' strict instructions. Business courses were enrolled to help develop his abilities to handle the complex negotiations of the Centre's multinational enterprises, ROTC to teach him strategy and leadership.
At the time, Lyle simply did as he was told, not knowing the future his "mentor" had planned for him, only that it was easier and far less painful to cooperate than it was to question.
Neither could have known that his placement at the University was the one decision that would give him the secret key to finding who he really was.
Lyle had been sitting on campus, just three days past his 20th birthday when the man had approached him. Lyle had looked up from his book when
he noticed that whomever had stopped in front of him had no intention of moving.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"Mr. Hooper?"
"Yes. Can I help you?"
"I have some interesting ideas for your future, Mr. Hooper, or should I call you Mr. Bowman?"
Lyle had almost panicked. This man knew who he really was? Why? Raines had promised no one would ever find him. As if the man were reading Lyle's thoughts, he gave the answers the younger man had so desperately needed.
"Not to worry, your ability to become someone completely new is exactly why we're interested in you. Come here, tomorrow at 10 a.m."
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. Lyle nervously took it and read the name C. Carver. That was all it said on the front. On the back was an address. 5570 Westchester Way.
By the time Lyle looked back up from the card, the man had vanished. He had looked and looked, trying to find some trace of him, but Lyle soon realized that the only way he'd see the man again would be to show at the appointed meeting place the next day.
That infamous next day had come in what seemed minutes, and Lyle found himself at 5570 Westchester Way. It was an unassuming home in the suburbs, and he had almost turned around and left until he saw the man from campus in the window watching him. For some reason, Lyle began walking toward the door. It opened before he could knock. The man stood in the doorway.
"Welcome. I'm glad you could come. Now that you're here, we can get started."
Lyle looked into the living room and saw a young woman about his same age sitting on the couch. She had dark hair and brown eyes, and she looked as nervous as he felt. The man indicated that Lyle should sit next to the girl, and so he did so.
"Mr. Bowman," the man saw Lyle begin to protest, and he raised his hand to stop him, "no pretenses here, Mr. Bowman. I'd like you to meet Corinna Scott. The two of you are being given a remarkable opportunity here today."
"To do what?" It was the woman, Corinna, who spoke, and Lyle looked anxiously from her to the man again, waiting for an answer.
"Let's begin again. My name is C. Carver, and I work for the CIA."
***
Carter was still giving them his "wonderful opportunity" speech when he suddenly favored them with a congenially arrogant smile and compliments for "having keen minds -- company assets."
"We need intelligent people like the two of you," he continued, a smile on his face, a shade more bored than was necessary. "It's your wits that got you through life, Mr. Bowman, Miss Scott, no matter how its packaged, its raw intelligence that counts. I must say I'm pleased by the way the two of you have turned out."
"So, the reason that we are here, sir," Corinna asked, in a low voice.
"Opportunity knocks, you answer it, don't you?"
"Are you challenging us, sir?" Lyle said evenly.
"In a sense, I suppose I am, Mr. Bowman," the smile faded and was replaced with tight lips.
***
Pulling the car into the parking lot, Lyle looked out at the ocean view, the city lights that twinkled like crystals in the distance, and leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. In hindsight, that first day was nothing, yet it had been full of omens and the phone call that he received later that day was the first of them.
The metallic shrill of the phone had interrupted his studies and he reached out his hand for the ivory receiver. He propped it between shoulder and ear.
"Hello?"
"Jan?" the voice on the other end replied, "Congratulations are in order, my boy. You did it, and sooner than I expected." There was silence for a long moment, and then Lyle spoke his first words in to the receiver.
"Go to hell," he said, bitterly as he recognized the voice.
The recipient on the other end did not seem disconcerted in the slightest. Instead he said nothing; merely waited for the young man to gather his wits about him. And gather them, he did.
"Well, sir, it seems that the opportunity presented itself, and I seized it. It is what you wanted, isn't it? My life has been in your hands since the beginning. It's not something I asked for. To be relieved of the responsibility. . . .to be normal. . ." Lyle let go a deep sigh, and there was the slightest tremble in his words, "it would almost be a blessing."
"It is irrelevant to discuss that as an option, Bobby," the voice responded coolly, "It simply isn't done that way, being relieved of one's duty to the Centre is ending up in a pine box. This is what I've trained you to be -- a mole in the most important agency in the federal government."
"You mean a pawn, sir."
***
Forcing his memories away, Lyle placed his hand against the car window, palm flat, and was struck by how cold the pane of glass was. He started to feel his blood boil thinking back to the scene in his office, earlier. How dare she judge him. . .if only she knew the entire story. He opened the car door and stepped out, breathing in the salt-scented air, then he looked up at the stars, seeking the one that he always looked for when he called out for his mother's help.
"When this all over can she accept me for me, not the persona I've become through manipulation, incrimination and necessity, Mom?" He watched as one star in particular twinkled in response to his question. "Once the layers are peeled away, can she look at me with out revulsion in her eyes. Can I?"
***
Corinna paced the living room, a gamut of emotions from fury to concern coursing through her body. As she paced across the plush beige carpet, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Upset was an understatement. She was so inflamed that it took her several moments to regain her composure and to articulate her thoughts. He did this to her every time part of his past was discovered by his sister, each part a little more sordid than the last. She wondered if this was the straw that would break the camel's back. . . this latest revelation was to say the least repulsive.
She remembered the first time she had met Lyle. It was when both had been recruited by the Agency. He'd entered the living room that morning uncertain of what the meeting would mean to him. The pretty speech that Carter had given them was seen for what it was -- a pretty speech. Still, both were soon accepting the opportunity given to them. The reason she had was because it was what she had wanted. Spending years alone in boarding schools, passed from one relative to another over the summer holidays, treated like an outcast by her fellow classmates, it had all led to this. Corinna spent hours on end studying and preparing for someone to see the potential for greatness she knew lived inside of her, for this very opportunity. One that came sooner than she anticipated, but was welcomed.
Her partnership with Lyle was not something she foresaw. He was a tricky devil, very resourceful, sneaky and also charming, when the need arose, but inside was a man who was ruled by his rage. She told him once that she firmly believed that his rage fueled his need to survive. He had actually laughed at that and told her that there was more to life than survival, one had to believe in oneself; otherwise how could one accomplish one's goals.
Sighing, Corinna walked into her bedroom, shrugged out of her travel clothes and into a deep forest green sweat suit. She sat down on the edge of the bed and tied her Nike sneakers, then left the room. She was on edge. He did this to her every time, so she knew that sleep would not come easy. Picking up her keys from the desk that was next to the front door, she exited the condo and made a beeline for the stairs. She took them two at a time, hoping to expend some of the tension he had instilled in her. She entered the floor above her's, and located the door quickly and knocked thrice. Upon receiving no answer, she let herself in. She had a key and it was only to be used in an emergency. She felt that this time it was.
"Lyle?" she called out, heading in the direction of the bedroom. She noticed that it had not changed much since her last visit. He was still taken with the Orient and who could blame him, really. She understood where that came from. A tribute to the Fong sisters, for they had introduced him to a whole intriguing culture at college.
For a moment, Corinna considered checking another location for her missing partner, but decided against it. He wouldn't be there, not yet. She left and reentered the stairwell and jogged down the stairs into the main lobby. Stuart, the gatekeeper of the condo complex, greeted her.
"Miss St.John, what are you doing up this late?" he grinned as he opened the gate.
"Couldn't sleep, Stuart."
"That's what Mr. Lyle told me a few hours ago when he asked me to get his car for him. Must be something in the air."
"Thought that I would go for a run," she returned the grin. So, Lyle went for a drive. That in itself was a good sign. He'd done something else instead of chaining himself up and letting the demons haunt him.
This latest revelation was the hardest one to stomach and she wasn't being funny. The past that the agency had established for Lyle was emerging, and he was beginning to doubt who he really was. She hoped that this wouldn't be a problem. She would hate to see all the hard work that they put into this evaporate. Perhaps it was time to remind him why he was doing this and for who.
"You be careful, Miss St. John."
"Sorry, did you say something, Stuart?"
"Be careful, Miss St. John."
"I will Stuart."
Corinna smiled at the man, and started down the sidewalk for a quick run to clear her head. This habit had started almost fifteen years ago, that fateful day that she met Mr. Carter at the University of Virginia, who in turn introduced her to Bobby Bowman, aka Mr. Lyle. Under Carter's instructions, they spent the summer months at Quantico, training, however Carter explained that they would be returning to classes in the fall. Although they didn't dorm together at Quantico, every spare moment they had was spent together, and when they returned to the campus, they had orders to have at least three classes together.
It was during this time that he met the Fong sisters in his Asian Studies course. It was one of the few classes that they didn't take together. When Corinna asked him why he was taking it, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something about it being necessary. Granted, she had enrolled in Foreign and Domestic Policies of the 20th Century, but that had been under orders from Carter. He had told her that there would be certain courses that each would need to take separately, so she made the presumption that this was one of those times. Lyle had introduced her to Cindy and Sue, one afternoon, just before they had a scheduled meeting with Carter. She remembered it like it was yesterday, as she started to run a little faster, staring into the velvet night sky.
It had been a cool autumn day, the majestic trees had begun to lose their leaves and the skyline was punctuated with the ruby reds and golden yellows of fall. She had told Lyle that she would meet him in front of the student union at 12:30. Both could grab a bit to eat on the way to the meeting and then make it back for their 2:00 class. He was waiting for her, but wasn't alone. Two very pretty girls were standing with him, both giggling and smiling at something he must have said. As she approached them, he caught sight of her and introduced her as his study partner for Genetics with Professor Campbell.
"Ewwwww," Sue said, smiling, "I took that last semester, managed a B average. It's where I met. . . ."
"Don't think about it, Sue," Cindy replied, placing a protective arm around her sister, feeling Sue shudder.
"Is he still causing trouble?" Jan asked, concerned. The two girls nodded.
"What's the problem?" she had asked.
"My ex-boyfriend just can't seem to get the picture that we are through. Jan was nice enough to tell him to knock it off or he'd report him to the campus police, but it won't do any good."
"We did tell them. Unless he physically hurts her, there's nothing they can do."
"Jan, I hate to . . .but we have that meeting and if we don't move it..."
"Rinna, loosen up. We have time." He flashed that smile of his then turned to the girls. "I'll stop over later tonight, okay? I'm still confused about the different dynasties, so maybe you two will be so kind as to explain them to me, again."
"Around 9:30. I don't get home from class till 8:45 and Cindy works till 8:30," Sue replied, and smiled at him shyly, lowering her eyes as well.
"9:30, it is then." The two sisters left them and they headed for the parking lot, realizing that they no longer had time to eat. Walking toward the car, it was she who had broken the silence.
"She has a crush on you, you know."
"Are you jealous, Rinna?"
"No, it's just that starting a relationship could hamper our training and mission."
"If I didn't know better...I still think that you're jealous. What mission?"
"Drop it, Bobby. That's what the meeting is about today."
"Hey, you aren't suppose to do that. If anyone heard you..."
"Then drop it, okay."
"Consider it dropped."
Corinna turned the corner and bent at the waist, placing her hands on her thighs, stretching. She almost wished she could turn off the images that started to filter into her brain but it was too late for that. She remembered when he had called her to tell her that Parker had learned about the murders and that he had been considered a suspect. It had been almost a year ago and they had been locked up in a trailer courtesy of Jarod. In fact it was Jarod that had left the newspapers for Parker to find.
Once he and Parker had returned from Texas, missing the pretender again, he had tried so hard not to call her. Luckily for him, she had just gotten into town that afternoon for one of their scheduled meetings the next morning. Insomnia had set in and she decided to meet him that night. She found him locked in that damned shed, handcuffed to the bed, rambling. The same ramblings that she heard that night when he called her, telling her that the Fong sisters had been brutally murdered.
She remembered that night as vividly as her meeting with the girls. Lyle had called, and after hanging up the phone she had tossed on a sweat suit and headed over to the address she had finally managed to coax out of him. She found the place swarming not only with the campus police but with the Fairfax County Police as well. He was standing behind a squad car, pale, visible shaken and retching. Death was not something that he handled well. Even now it rattled him. She only hoped that he would find a way to deal with his growing emotional turmoil - one healthier than a return visit to the shed.
****
The CIA, like most federal agencies, has a number of business jets at their disposal. C. Carter preferred the Silver Ghost for long trips because of its size and the fact that a small office was set up for him in the back. There was a partition in front of it so he also had some privacy. He was traveling with only his secretary.
"C, the president is on the blue phone. He wants to talk to you."
"This is Mr. Carver," he said, as he picked up the receiver.
"One moment, please, sir," the switchboard answered. A moment later the voice was that even a grade school student could identify came on the line.
"Hi there, Cyrus. How are you today?"
"Fine, Mr. President. What can I do for you?'
"I want some answers, Cyrus," said William Jefferson Clinton, President of the United States. "I'm sitting here with the vice president and Madeline Albright. You do know them, don't you? And we are trying to understand how it is a man capable of such atrocities against humanity was allowed into this country. So, Cyrus, care to enlighten us?"
"I can, Mr. President. As complicated as it sounds we had plans for this man that fell through. We needed to terminate him and this was the most expeditious way to do it. I'm sure you all understand."
"Of course we do, Cyrus."
"My man in charge believes that the Delaware company is becoming more sinister than originally thought, sir. It was a working partnership with the wicked at one time, Mr. President, but now they seem to be closing ranks and cleaning house. My agent tells me that when following the serpent you have to slither in the dirt sometimes, to achieve the goal necessary."
"I understand, you tell your agent in charge to just keep the operation going the way it is then. Slither if you have to. Don't back off, but don't provoke them, either. You're on the same page as I am on this, right, Cyrus?"
"Yes, Mr. President. I understand."
"That's great. Now y'all have a great day, Cyrus, and keep up the terrific work."
"Melody, can you locate Lyle for me, it's important, and then try and contact Corinna. She went to Blue Cove. Thon's appearance and subsequent death has escalated this project. It's time to step it up another notch."
"And will you meet them at the usual place?"
"The house in Virginia. Tell the pilot to head home, as well." C. Carter leaned back in his leather chair, closing his emerald eyes. He hoped that Lyle could hold out a little longer. Things sure had changed from when they originally recruited the young man. He went from Centre mole for William Raines to agent with an agenda once he discovered the truth, an agenda that he had sanctioned, wholeheartedly.
Cyrus Carter hated it when his schedule was thrown off. From September until May, he reserved Friday mornings for visiting his daughter Devin in California. She attended the University of Southern Cal, and this was their time together. He had become both father and mother to his little girl when his wife, Clare, had died from ovarian cancer fifteen years ago.
However on this Friday, he had had to attend a Board of Directors meeting for CDC Industries, one of the three he sat on since taking over his wife's duties. Although being a board member gave him a more than comfortable living, he only stayed on because his daughter would eventually take his place, and he in good conscience could not give up his position at the company. Now his time with Devin would have to be postponed indefinitely. The President wanted action and results regarding Thon and the Centre. In other words, this was the number one priority at the moment. The American people wanted answers on how a murderer from another country almost made a mockery of the United States and all it stood for by nearly becoming a citizen.
"Melody, this coffee tastes like mud," he said. "No. It's worse than that." He placed his cup on the desk, pushed it away, and lit his pipe.
"Sorry, C," she said as she brought the cell phone over to him, "Lyle's on the line."
"Lyle, it's Cyrus. I want to tell you that everyone, and I mean everyone, including the guy in Oval Office himself, thinks you're doing a great job with a lousy situation."
"Cyrus, let's cut the crap. Things suck and they're only going to get worse. A lot worse."
"Why do you say that?"
"I'm the one buried in this up to my ass and the deeper I get the more I forget just who the hell I am. My God, I've gone from wife killer to cannibal in my sister's eyes. The fear in her eyes. . . she tries to hide it but it flickers to the surface for mere moments before she can bury it under her tough as nails exterior. What juicy revelation is Jarod going to find now to give her, that I molest children? I have a son to think about when this is over."
Cyrus propped his elbows up on his ebony desk, and signaled for Melody to leave him alone with the phone. He hadn't forgotten about the little infant that was ensconced in the Centre's nursery. When Lyle had come to him and told him what the old man wanted him to do, it nearly curled his toes and he was a hard man to repulse.
"I realize that Lyle, and don't worry about it. He's going to eventually understand why you did this just like your sister will?"
"And Jarod, what about him? Will he understand? I killed his brother. He doesn't forgive let alone forget."
"Kyle was a threat, a loose cannon, and it was an accident.'
"That's right I was only suppose to wound him so that your boys in dark suits could come and get him," his voice was bitter. "Yet another plan involving me that went a little off course." He paused. "Let me know what you plan for me next."
"We need to meet; tomorrow night; the usual place."
"I live to serve." Lyle cut the connection.
Cyrus closed his cell phone. Lyle was on the edge but he was also an asset, and possibly the cleverest operative they'd ever had. His biggest weakness was overcompensation for the feelings of worthlessness that Raines, that bastard, had instilled in him. Lyle's original goal had been to take down The Centre at any cost. Now that was tempered by a need to protect his newfound sister, and somewhat unexpected son. The family connection was a nuisance, but the man had deserved some truth.
His entire existence was based on Centre lies.
The agency had made mistakes with Lyle. Revealing his parentage, or at least the timing of that revelation, was one of the worst. The CIA could not save him from Yakuza punishment, and admitting CIA involvement would have been disaster. Lyle had realized he was out there on his own. Cyrus had not understood how fragile Lyle was afterward. Corinna had some idea; she had wanted Lyle to have a six-month forced medical leave with counseling. The staff shrink determined that Lyle was fit for restricted duty.
Lyle was assigned to set up a Las Vegas sting operation. He was given a new name, a new persona, and a new mail-order bride. The "wife," Che Ling, was a Chinese intelligence agent assigned to work with the CIA. She and Lyle had an excellent rapport that Cyrus suspected went deeper than their working relationship. The assignment progressed smoothly.
Then Cyrus made a tactical error. Lyle's infiltration was key to bringing down The Centre; they did not have another agent capable of taking over. The committee suggested acquiring Jarod - that would have been a feat - or trying to turn Miss Parker. Cyrus set up a meeting with Lyle to discuss options, and Lyle shot down every one. He wanted another chance at the assignment. Cyrus promised it to him when his current assignment was completed.
As part of the promise, Cyrus gave Lyle the CIA's sketchy information on The Centre's genetic experimentation, and told him that accessing more in-depth information would definitely get Lyle back into The Centre. Lyle was blasé about the genome project; he had peripheral knowledge of Raines' cloning experiments but was never involved.
Lyle's disinterest hit a raw nerve with Cyrus. Looking back, he knew it stemmed from memories of Clare's suffering and death. As another example of poor timing, Cyrus had scheduled the meeting on his late wife's birthday. Cyrus's outrage at The Centre's attitude toward human life and suffering got the better of his judgment. All the problems The Centre could put their genius and wealth to work on, all the cancers and genetic diseases they could have cured, and they decide to build the perfect brain. How God-like of them, how inhuman. His feelings had distracted him, made him careless. Cyrus handed Lyle the information on his genetic background. The Red File Program made everything personal.
Finding out he was a Parker had not had a desirable effect on Lyle. The quest for the genetic key to The Centre became an instant obsession. Two weeks later, he disappeared. His next stop was a Centre facility in Hartford, Conn. Lyle had gone over the edge. If his return to power at The Centre involved deaths, so be it. Raines' training had finally proved successful; Lyle had innocent blood on his hands.
The Vegas Project was compromised and collapsed. It was an embarrassment to the CIA and Chinese intelligence, and a major mess to clean up afterward. By the time Lyle resurfaced back in Vegas it was all over. He asked about Che Ling, but he was persona non grata, and got no answers. He disappeared again. The committee felt Lyle was irretrievable. Corinna disagreed with their decision. Cyrus hoped they were wrong, that Lyle would nurse his wounds and pull himself together. Via Corinna, he dropped Lyle the information that Kyle was still alive. Who better to catch one Centre trained CIA operative than another?
Lyle and Kyle, Cyrus wondered if that was Raines' little joke. Of course, Lyle had chosen that name himself. He called it a tribute to his adoptive father, the man who had forced Bobby to call him "Mister Lyle," and who had helped Raines warp Bobby into the tool The Centre wanted. Kyle was an inside Centre project of Raines' manufacture. Anything Raines touched became damaged goods. Recruiting Kyle had been an error in judgment. Cyrus had hoped for another CIA operative in The Centre, but Kyle was Centre controlled, and could not be turned. Still, he had been useful, and the main goal of the Red Rock Retrieval was to capture him, or at least injure him enough to be captured. Cyrus had not known that Lyle had drawn Jarod into the mix, and that Jarod brought in Lyle's sister.
Lyle and Jarod were another conundrum. Lyle had respect for Jarod's intelligence, something Jarod did not appear to return. He seemed jealous of Jarod's closeness to Miss Parker (a hell of a way to address your own sister) and Sydney. Jarod's black and white vision of the world would only allow him to see Lyle as an enemy. For the most part, they acted like playground rivals, jockeying for king of the mountain on a very adult and dangerous jungle gym. That turned out to be the reason for Jarod's presence at the Retrieval. Lyle, in his temporary insanity, saw Jarod as the way back to The Centre. He also saw the taking of Jarod's thumb as retribution for loosing his own. Blame, juvenile in two such intelligent men, but there you have it. Cyrus shook his head.
Jarod was a variable who both helped and hindered their projects. In the case of Thon, Jarod had ruined the CIA's original plan. Lyle had brought Ki Mok, Colonel Chen Thon, to Patriotic Hall on the pretense of arranging citizenship and a cushy job. Corinna had brought the blind woman, Kim Che, there to implicate Thon. The CIA was supposed to swoop in and "save" Thon from justice, then use him to get deeper into both the Oriental and Venezuelan undergrounds. Jarod had thrown in the monkey wrench; Lyle had attempted to repair the damage, with little success; the project had been scrapped. The backup plan had been simple, elimination of embarrassment. A good move, considering the President's reaction to the debacle. Lyle was the only one left hanging...again.
Lyle had worked on this project since college. The Oriental studies demanded by both the CIA and The Centre were no coincidence. The agendas of the two organizations ran parallel at times; it was their final destinations that caused the roads to diverge.
****
"I live to serve." Lyle said it to C. Carver and repeated it to himself. Yes, that was the purpose for which he was bred and trained. Raines had beaten that into his head, with the help of his father, rather the man he knew as father for the first years of his life. His biological father had supposedly thought him dead, ordered his death, and then brought him under his wing. Lyle slipped the cell phone into his pocket, and tried to put those thoughts aside. Some scars were not visible, some were. He rubbed at the ache in his phantom thumb, while he watched the pre-dawn light creeping over the edge of the Atlantic.
Another sleepless night, like so many before, it got harder to sleep every day. Jarod slept fitfully; that made Lyle smile. Jarod should sleep like a baby after all the rescues and good deeds he performed, including the cure of Kim Che and the saving of Emma Barrett from the Yakuza. The only problem was that Jarod's successes regularly screwed Lyle's plans.
Jarod had reason to hate him. He had assisted Mr. Raines in several experiments on the pretender and others. Lyle felt some shame for his actions, but they had been necessary to cement his position in The Centre. The end justified the means. Somehow, that seemed less valid when he woke in a cold sweat at 2:00 in the morning, or spent the night wondering if he could build a life after he completed his mission. Grudgingly, Lyle admitted that, in some small corner of his mind, he had enjoyed torturing Jarod into submission after capturing him at the airport. That Jarod had faked his surrender was mild irony. Lyle's entire life was a ruse.
Lyle wanted to grab his son and run, but he knew that was not possible. The child was the next generation of Red Files, far too valuable for The Centre to just release, and Lyle would not risk his life. Instead he got back into his car and drove home.
He could not remember the drive or walking into his home. When he came back to himself he was standing in the shed shaking violently. Thoughts streamed through his head. Thoughts of claiming the murdered prostitute's body from the Bangkok morgue; paying off the attendant; and what he had to do to her cold, lifeless body. He threw himself through the closet door and ripped off his clothes on the way to the shower. He stood under the steaming water until his skin was bright red and his breathing had calm. He had enough trouble differentiating between reality and his constructed persona. Then Jarod dredged up another episode from his deliberately checkered past, and he found himself in the shed reliving his nightmares. Damn him, the judgmental
SOB! Why does he have to hang around Blue Cove and The Centre? Why does he have to throw my past in Parker's face? Why can't he just go away?
Lyle turned off the water and stood for a time with his face against the cool tile. He got out of the shower and toweled off, scrubbing absently at the tattoo on his arm. He noticed his actions and stopped. The oureboros, symbol of eternity and life from death, twisted by Colonel Thon until it became the Cambodian symbol for cannibalism -- It was etched into his skin just as the memories of what Thon taught him were etched into his mind. It had taken fancy footwork and quick thinking to avoid putting Thon's teaching to use. Lyle felt the bile rise in his throat and gagged. He brushed his teeth till his gums bled.
Reaching into the closet for clothes he could feel the shed call to him, telling him it was dark and quiet, he could sleep and be safe. He put on his Lyle persona with his suit. He adjusted his objets d'art until they were properly aligned. Picking up a small china bowl he remembered the woman who gave it to him, Mai Lin. Lyle knew that was not her real name; he did not want to know her real name. It was better this way; anonymity was safer for CIA operatives. May Lin was the name she chose for the part of a waitress at The Hidden Truth, the part of a serial killer's victim. So much blood was on his hands; it was hard to tell the difference at times, but it made a difference to him. Her death was not real, she was safe, or at least alive and elsewhere on another assignment. He hoped she was safe; she had reminded him so much of Che Ling, the last woman he would allow himself to love.
Lyle exited his condo and headed back to the parking garage he'd left what seemed like only moments before. He was late for the Centre. Not that it mattered. Mr. Parker was away on business again and it wasn't as if his sister would be waiting to greet him with a loving smile. God, he wondered as he hit the highway in his Mercedes, what would it be like to have her smile at me as if she were really glad to see me? He'd seen that smile on her face when she didn't think he was looking. When she was grateful to Sydney for some help he'd given her or when Broots said something to make her laugh. They were both good men, and he was glad she had them, but Lyle was fully aware of how much he envied both. They got the part of her that should have belonged to him.
What was meant to be a quick stop in his office turned into a 2-hour marathon of paperwork - a task that fell heavy on him while the Chairman was away. Lyle rarely even looked at what he was signing anymore. They were orders to do terrible things to more people, some innocent some not so, but still, what was the point of caring anymore? He had to do these things to accomplish his goal. That brought a small smile to his face, and made him think of someone he wanted to see. Standing, he left his office and wandered down the hallway to the office that now served as a nursery for his "baby brother."
Lyle pushed open the door and found the nurse sitting at her desk working on reports. She did not question his appearance. Both he and Parker as well as Sydney and Raines had blanket access to this room. He hated that Raines was allowed anywhere near his son, but his arguments about trust had fallen on deaf ears. Mr. Parker believed he could control Raines. Foolish, foolish, man, Lyle thought. If you could really control him, my life wouldn't be the hell it was...that it is.
He gazed down at the baby who lay inside his crib happily playing with a set of soft fabric blocks Lyle knew had been a gift from Parker. The baby boy smiled up at him, and Lyle felt a catch in his throat. He didn't do this often. Coming near the baby usually only reminded him of how much he had to lose, but somehow today he needed this. Needed to see his son and remember that there was a chance for a future when this was over. Then he did something he never did. He reached out to touch his son. His hand was about to grasp that of his son when he heard her voice from behind him.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Lyle heard the combination of anger and fear in Parker's voice and he took a deep breath before turning around. It was like a knife in his heart to know that she feared he would hurt the baby. As his eyes fell on her, as he took in the fury in her ice blue eyes, part of him wanted to grab her and shake her and say, "Don't you understand? He's my son! You're my sister! I love you both! Don't you understand?"
But he couldn't do that, and he knew it. At least, he couldn't do it yet. Instead he reminded himself to focus in on what was good about the look in her eyes. Parker would never, never let Raines or anyone else hurt his son. Lyle knew that in the deepest part of his heart, and it was sometimes all that kept him going. Still, he had to deal with the situation at hand. He took another deep breath and pulled his Mr. Lyle cloak more tightly around himself.
"I was visiting the baby. Do you have a problem with that?"
Parker narrowed her eyes and stepped forward. Clearly, despite the fear she'd felt surge up yesterday after confronting him about his past, Parker was still willing to challenge him when she felt it necessary. She kept moving closer until she was standing directly in front of him, arms crossed in front of her.
"The baby is off limits to you."
"Says who?"
"Says me. You are not going to rub your disgusting, pathetic habits off on this child, do you understand me, Lyle?"
"Gee, Parker, that biological clock's wound a little tight, don't you think? Besides, Dad doesn't have a problem with me coming here. I do have permission, you know."
"I don't care." She spoke the words slowly, accentuating each and every word. Her gaze was so intense that Lyle felt himself step back from her, then he cleared his throat and headed for the door as she continued speaking.
"I ever catch you or Raines playing any of your sick little games with this baby and you'll both wish to God that you'd never been born."
Lyle turned around again, his best grin on his face. God, she was magnificent. A mother bear ready to strike down any threat to her young. He had meant it when he told her how beautiful she was when she was angry. She dropped her mask then. No more Miss Parker the uncaring - instead she was fierce and amazing. Still, he knew that "Mr. Lyle" couldn't think those thoughts. He had to be angry with her for what she'd said. He had to wound her to keep the façade in place. And so Lyle swallowed hard and opened his mouth and added another mark to the column of reasons why Parker should hate him.
"Quite the little mother, Sis. Too bad you've never managed to bring Jarod back. Then you could be off raising a litter with the carpenter - well, if he were still alive."
Lyle saw the pain that rushed through Parker's body at the mention of Thomas and his murder. He turned quickly, moving to the door because he knew that's what she expected him to do. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her step toward the crib and pick up the baby.
He headed back to his office to gather up some work then left for the day. He needed to get on the road if he were going to make it to Virginia in time for the meeting with Carver. It was only after he was on the highway, speeding more than 100 mph down the road that he let himself feel sorry for what he'd said to his sister. He felt an overwhelming urge to cry, suddenly, but he fought it off. He didn't do that - couldn't do that. Once he started crying, Lyle was afraid with all he had to cry for he would never stop.
Okay, this little idea popped into my head and since I didn't have time to write it alone, I drafted some friends to help me. Fortunately or unfortunately, the little idea has turned into what will be an epic by the time it's done. So we decided to post this first part now. Be warned that there are spoilers for virtually everything involving Mr. Lyle since his debut, and basically for all four seasons of the show. For those who haven't seen it yet, this picks up directly from the last scene of Mr. Lyle and Parker together in "Agent of the Year Zero"
Renwal Wing is a group of authors :Niceole, Trish, Shannon, Paula and Nicolette.
The Road Taken
part 1
by Renewal Wing
"You're insane."
Lyle watched as Parker finished speaking, her eyes taking in the smile he had plastered on his face. Then, almost shivering, she turned and walked out of the room.
His smile fell instantly. Moving quickly toward his desk, he picked up the phone and dialed in a pager number. Following the succession of beeps, he entered the 3-digit code 999 - it meant only one thing to its recipient - I need to talk now.
Lyle returned the Chinese food container to the refrigerator, grabbed his suit jacket and then pulled on the expensive piece of craftsmanship. He paused in front of the mirror to make certain his usual cold Mr. Lyle face was in place. Then he turned and exited the office.
***
Corinna St. John strolled through the parking garage toward the elevator that would take her to the condominium she purchased for when business brought her to Blue Cove. Fortunately, that wasn't often. Her life and her career were in Washington, but there were times when her presence here was required.
The elevator ride was a brief one and soon the doors opened on the fifth floor of the Franklin Regency Towers. She walked to her front door, fumbling momentarily with the keys. Then she opened the door and entered her darkened temporary home.
He was sitting in a chair that stood next to her fireplace. The only light in the room came from the slats in the patio door blinds, and they cast strange thin shadows on his face. She saw that his fingers were crossed, forming a kind of steeple as the tips rested against his chin.
Corinna took her time removing her coat and gloves, then she crossed to the sofa. She did not turn on the light. That he had not done so himself was an indication of how troubled he was, and she felt it best to let him set the tone for their talk.
They sat that way, together in the dark, for a long while, and then finally, Lyle lowered his hands and began to speak.
"She's terrified of me."
"I thought that's what you wanted. That was the goal, wasn't it?"
"She tries to cover it, to pretend that she isn't afraid, but I saw it in her eyes today. She really believes..."
His voice trailed off, and Corinna shifted her position so she could lean closer to him. The sun was moving, and the shadows that had given her some view of his face were disappearing, yet she felt a need to keep direct eye contact with him.
"Lyle, isn't that what you wanted? Parker can't be allowed to become an obstacle, we're agreed on this."
"I know that. I haven't forgotten what I'm trying to accomplish."
"Then what's the problem?"
"When it's over, what if it's too late?"
To Corinna, business had always been strictly business. Lyle had changed that. Their collaboration often left her feeling more emotional, more vulnerable than anything else in her life. She knew all too well the demons that had driven Lyle onto his current course, and despite her best efforts to stay distanced from him, she could never shake the emptiness she detected inside of him during these talks.
"It's never too late for the truth, Lyle. Never."
***
It was late when Lyle finally left Corinna's, and instead of heading upstairs to his own home, he went down to his car and drove off into the night. After a series of twists and turns, he was on the road to the coast, the moon illuminating his way down the winding drive along the ocean's shore.
This was not what he'd envisioned for himself all those years ago when he'd been walking across the Bowman farm and seen his father waving him over to meet the man from the "adoption agency." Back then he had planned to follow in his father's footsteps, maybe expand the farm into horse breeding. But meeting William Raines had changed all that.
>From that first day Raines had begun to work on him, striving to program him to be a tool of the Centre. Raines's aim was simple - Lyle was meant to be an assassin, and he'd had every intention of turning the boy into one. The old bastard had even had a master plan to perfect Lyle's killing techniques, one that had begun with the murder of the teen's best friend.
Lyle still remembered with horror the sound of the shovel crashing into the boy's skull. He'd turned around to see his friend falling and Raines standing there with a near maniacal look on his face. Shocked, his stomach knotting with fear, Lyle had tried to turn away, but Raines had called out to him.
"No. It's time for you to move on. You need to finish this to prove to me that you are ready."
Then the ghastly creature held out the shovel to Lyle. When Lyle had hesitated, Raines narrowed his eyes, fixing his most terrifying glare on the boy.
"Now, Bobby. I've done the hard part. Now, you dispose of the body."
Back in the present, Lyle shook his head, trying to push away the memories of that terrible day. It was true that it had been his choice to frame Lyle Bowman for the murder, he who had cut off the boy's head and hidden the body away until it had decomposed enough to prevent identification by anything other than the tattered remnant of clothing found on the body, but still, Lyle knew that Raines had set him on a path that day that almost nothing could have ever saved him from.
Nothing but the truth.
Funny how the truth finds you. When he'd enrolled at the University of Virginia under his alias Jan Hooper, it had been under Raines' strict instructions. Business courses were enrolled to help develop his abilities to handle the complex negotiations of the Centre's multinational enterprises, ROTC to teach him strategy and leadership.
At the time, Lyle simply did as he was told, not knowing the future his "mentor" had planned for him, only that it was easier and far less painful to cooperate than it was to question.
Neither could have known that his placement at the University was the one decision that would give him the secret key to finding who he really was.
Lyle had been sitting on campus, just three days past his 20th birthday when the man had approached him. Lyle had looked up from his book when
he noticed that whomever had stopped in front of him had no intention of moving.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"Mr. Hooper?"
"Yes. Can I help you?"
"I have some interesting ideas for your future, Mr. Hooper, or should I call you Mr. Bowman?"
Lyle had almost panicked. This man knew who he really was? Why? Raines had promised no one would ever find him. As if the man were reading Lyle's thoughts, he gave the answers the younger man had so desperately needed.
"Not to worry, your ability to become someone completely new is exactly why we're interested in you. Come here, tomorrow at 10 a.m."
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. Lyle nervously took it and read the name C. Carver. That was all it said on the front. On the back was an address. 5570 Westchester Way.
By the time Lyle looked back up from the card, the man had vanished. He had looked and looked, trying to find some trace of him, but Lyle soon realized that the only way he'd see the man again would be to show at the appointed meeting place the next day.
That infamous next day had come in what seemed minutes, and Lyle found himself at 5570 Westchester Way. It was an unassuming home in the suburbs, and he had almost turned around and left until he saw the man from campus in the window watching him. For some reason, Lyle began walking toward the door. It opened before he could knock. The man stood in the doorway.
"Welcome. I'm glad you could come. Now that you're here, we can get started."
Lyle looked into the living room and saw a young woman about his same age sitting on the couch. She had dark hair and brown eyes, and she looked as nervous as he felt. The man indicated that Lyle should sit next to the girl, and so he did so.
"Mr. Bowman," the man saw Lyle begin to protest, and he raised his hand to stop him, "no pretenses here, Mr. Bowman. I'd like you to meet Corinna Scott. The two of you are being given a remarkable opportunity here today."
"To do what?" It was the woman, Corinna, who spoke, and Lyle looked anxiously from her to the man again, waiting for an answer.
"Let's begin again. My name is C. Carver, and I work for the CIA."
***
Carter was still giving them his "wonderful opportunity" speech when he suddenly favored them with a congenially arrogant smile and compliments for "having keen minds -- company assets."
"We need intelligent people like the two of you," he continued, a smile on his face, a shade more bored than was necessary. "It's your wits that got you through life, Mr. Bowman, Miss Scott, no matter how its packaged, its raw intelligence that counts. I must say I'm pleased by the way the two of you have turned out."
"So, the reason that we are here, sir," Corinna asked, in a low voice.
"Opportunity knocks, you answer it, don't you?"
"Are you challenging us, sir?" Lyle said evenly.
"In a sense, I suppose I am, Mr. Bowman," the smile faded and was replaced with tight lips.
***
Pulling the car into the parking lot, Lyle looked out at the ocean view, the city lights that twinkled like crystals in the distance, and leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. In hindsight, that first day was nothing, yet it had been full of omens and the phone call that he received later that day was the first of them.
The metallic shrill of the phone had interrupted his studies and he reached out his hand for the ivory receiver. He propped it between shoulder and ear.
"Hello?"
"Jan?" the voice on the other end replied, "Congratulations are in order, my boy. You did it, and sooner than I expected." There was silence for a long moment, and then Lyle spoke his first words in to the receiver.
"Go to hell," he said, bitterly as he recognized the voice.
The recipient on the other end did not seem disconcerted in the slightest. Instead he said nothing; merely waited for the young man to gather his wits about him. And gather them, he did.
"Well, sir, it seems that the opportunity presented itself, and I seized it. It is what you wanted, isn't it? My life has been in your hands since the beginning. It's not something I asked for. To be relieved of the responsibility. . . .to be normal. . ." Lyle let go a deep sigh, and there was the slightest tremble in his words, "it would almost be a blessing."
"It is irrelevant to discuss that as an option, Bobby," the voice responded coolly, "It simply isn't done that way, being relieved of one's duty to the Centre is ending up in a pine box. This is what I've trained you to be -- a mole in the most important agency in the federal government."
"You mean a pawn, sir."
***
Forcing his memories away, Lyle placed his hand against the car window, palm flat, and was struck by how cold the pane of glass was. He started to feel his blood boil thinking back to the scene in his office, earlier. How dare she judge him. . .if only she knew the entire story. He opened the car door and stepped out, breathing in the salt-scented air, then he looked up at the stars, seeking the one that he always looked for when he called out for his mother's help.
"When this all over can she accept me for me, not the persona I've become through manipulation, incrimination and necessity, Mom?" He watched as one star in particular twinkled in response to his question. "Once the layers are peeled away, can she look at me with out revulsion in her eyes. Can I?"
***
Corinna paced the living room, a gamut of emotions from fury to concern coursing through her body. As she paced across the plush beige carpet, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Upset was an understatement. She was so inflamed that it took her several moments to regain her composure and to articulate her thoughts. He did this to her every time part of his past was discovered by his sister, each part a little more sordid than the last. She wondered if this was the straw that would break the camel's back. . . this latest revelation was to say the least repulsive.
She remembered the first time she had met Lyle. It was when both had been recruited by the Agency. He'd entered the living room that morning uncertain of what the meeting would mean to him. The pretty speech that Carter had given them was seen for what it was -- a pretty speech. Still, both were soon accepting the opportunity given to them. The reason she had was because it was what she had wanted. Spending years alone in boarding schools, passed from one relative to another over the summer holidays, treated like an outcast by her fellow classmates, it had all led to this. Corinna spent hours on end studying and preparing for someone to see the potential for greatness she knew lived inside of her, for this very opportunity. One that came sooner than she anticipated, but was welcomed.
Her partnership with Lyle was not something she foresaw. He was a tricky devil, very resourceful, sneaky and also charming, when the need arose, but inside was a man who was ruled by his rage. She told him once that she firmly believed that his rage fueled his need to survive. He had actually laughed at that and told her that there was more to life than survival, one had to believe in oneself; otherwise how could one accomplish one's goals.
Sighing, Corinna walked into her bedroom, shrugged out of her travel clothes and into a deep forest green sweat suit. She sat down on the edge of the bed and tied her Nike sneakers, then left the room. She was on edge. He did this to her every time, so she knew that sleep would not come easy. Picking up her keys from the desk that was next to the front door, she exited the condo and made a beeline for the stairs. She took them two at a time, hoping to expend some of the tension he had instilled in her. She entered the floor above her's, and located the door quickly and knocked thrice. Upon receiving no answer, she let herself in. She had a key and it was only to be used in an emergency. She felt that this time it was.
"Lyle?" she called out, heading in the direction of the bedroom. She noticed that it had not changed much since her last visit. He was still taken with the Orient and who could blame him, really. She understood where that came from. A tribute to the Fong sisters, for they had introduced him to a whole intriguing culture at college.
For a moment, Corinna considered checking another location for her missing partner, but decided against it. He wouldn't be there, not yet. She left and reentered the stairwell and jogged down the stairs into the main lobby. Stuart, the gatekeeper of the condo complex, greeted her.
"Miss St.John, what are you doing up this late?" he grinned as he opened the gate.
"Couldn't sleep, Stuart."
"That's what Mr. Lyle told me a few hours ago when he asked me to get his car for him. Must be something in the air."
"Thought that I would go for a run," she returned the grin. So, Lyle went for a drive. That in itself was a good sign. He'd done something else instead of chaining himself up and letting the demons haunt him.
This latest revelation was the hardest one to stomach and she wasn't being funny. The past that the agency had established for Lyle was emerging, and he was beginning to doubt who he really was. She hoped that this wouldn't be a problem. She would hate to see all the hard work that they put into this evaporate. Perhaps it was time to remind him why he was doing this and for who.
"You be careful, Miss St. John."
"Sorry, did you say something, Stuart?"
"Be careful, Miss St. John."
"I will Stuart."
Corinna smiled at the man, and started down the sidewalk for a quick run to clear her head. This habit had started almost fifteen years ago, that fateful day that she met Mr. Carter at the University of Virginia, who in turn introduced her to Bobby Bowman, aka Mr. Lyle. Under Carter's instructions, they spent the summer months at Quantico, training, however Carter explained that they would be returning to classes in the fall. Although they didn't dorm together at Quantico, every spare moment they had was spent together, and when they returned to the campus, they had orders to have at least three classes together.
It was during this time that he met the Fong sisters in his Asian Studies course. It was one of the few classes that they didn't take together. When Corinna asked him why he was taking it, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something about it being necessary. Granted, she had enrolled in Foreign and Domestic Policies of the 20th Century, but that had been under orders from Carter. He had told her that there would be certain courses that each would need to take separately, so she made the presumption that this was one of those times. Lyle had introduced her to Cindy and Sue, one afternoon, just before they had a scheduled meeting with Carter. She remembered it like it was yesterday, as she started to run a little faster, staring into the velvet night sky.
It had been a cool autumn day, the majestic trees had begun to lose their leaves and the skyline was punctuated with the ruby reds and golden yellows of fall. She had told Lyle that she would meet him in front of the student union at 12:30. Both could grab a bit to eat on the way to the meeting and then make it back for their 2:00 class. He was waiting for her, but wasn't alone. Two very pretty girls were standing with him, both giggling and smiling at something he must have said. As she approached them, he caught sight of her and introduced her as his study partner for Genetics with Professor Campbell.
"Ewwwww," Sue said, smiling, "I took that last semester, managed a B average. It's where I met. . . ."
"Don't think about it, Sue," Cindy replied, placing a protective arm around her sister, feeling Sue shudder.
"Is he still causing trouble?" Jan asked, concerned. The two girls nodded.
"What's the problem?" she had asked.
"My ex-boyfriend just can't seem to get the picture that we are through. Jan was nice enough to tell him to knock it off or he'd report him to the campus police, but it won't do any good."
"We did tell them. Unless he physically hurts her, there's nothing they can do."
"Jan, I hate to . . .but we have that meeting and if we don't move it..."
"Rinna, loosen up. We have time." He flashed that smile of his then turned to the girls. "I'll stop over later tonight, okay? I'm still confused about the different dynasties, so maybe you two will be so kind as to explain them to me, again."
"Around 9:30. I don't get home from class till 8:45 and Cindy works till 8:30," Sue replied, and smiled at him shyly, lowering her eyes as well.
"9:30, it is then." The two sisters left them and they headed for the parking lot, realizing that they no longer had time to eat. Walking toward the car, it was she who had broken the silence.
"She has a crush on you, you know."
"Are you jealous, Rinna?"
"No, it's just that starting a relationship could hamper our training and mission."
"If I didn't know better...I still think that you're jealous. What mission?"
"Drop it, Bobby. That's what the meeting is about today."
"Hey, you aren't suppose to do that. If anyone heard you..."
"Then drop it, okay."
"Consider it dropped."
Corinna turned the corner and bent at the waist, placing her hands on her thighs, stretching. She almost wished she could turn off the images that started to filter into her brain but it was too late for that. She remembered when he had called her to tell her that Parker had learned about the murders and that he had been considered a suspect. It had been almost a year ago and they had been locked up in a trailer courtesy of Jarod. In fact it was Jarod that had left the newspapers for Parker to find.
Once he and Parker had returned from Texas, missing the pretender again, he had tried so hard not to call her. Luckily for him, she had just gotten into town that afternoon for one of their scheduled meetings the next morning. Insomnia had set in and she decided to meet him that night. She found him locked in that damned shed, handcuffed to the bed, rambling. The same ramblings that she heard that night when he called her, telling her that the Fong sisters had been brutally murdered.
She remembered that night as vividly as her meeting with the girls. Lyle had called, and after hanging up the phone she had tossed on a sweat suit and headed over to the address she had finally managed to coax out of him. She found the place swarming not only with the campus police but with the Fairfax County Police as well. He was standing behind a squad car, pale, visible shaken and retching. Death was not something that he handled well. Even now it rattled him. She only hoped that he would find a way to deal with his growing emotional turmoil - one healthier than a return visit to the shed.
****
The CIA, like most federal agencies, has a number of business jets at their disposal. C. Carter preferred the Silver Ghost for long trips because of its size and the fact that a small office was set up for him in the back. There was a partition in front of it so he also had some privacy. He was traveling with only his secretary.
"C, the president is on the blue phone. He wants to talk to you."
"This is Mr. Carver," he said, as he picked up the receiver.
"One moment, please, sir," the switchboard answered. A moment later the voice was that even a grade school student could identify came on the line.
"Hi there, Cyrus. How are you today?"
"Fine, Mr. President. What can I do for you?'
"I want some answers, Cyrus," said William Jefferson Clinton, President of the United States. "I'm sitting here with the vice president and Madeline Albright. You do know them, don't you? And we are trying to understand how it is a man capable of such atrocities against humanity was allowed into this country. So, Cyrus, care to enlighten us?"
"I can, Mr. President. As complicated as it sounds we had plans for this man that fell through. We needed to terminate him and this was the most expeditious way to do it. I'm sure you all understand."
"Of course we do, Cyrus."
"My man in charge believes that the Delaware company is becoming more sinister than originally thought, sir. It was a working partnership with the wicked at one time, Mr. President, but now they seem to be closing ranks and cleaning house. My agent tells me that when following the serpent you have to slither in the dirt sometimes, to achieve the goal necessary."
"I understand, you tell your agent in charge to just keep the operation going the way it is then. Slither if you have to. Don't back off, but don't provoke them, either. You're on the same page as I am on this, right, Cyrus?"
"Yes, Mr. President. I understand."
"That's great. Now y'all have a great day, Cyrus, and keep up the terrific work."
"Melody, can you locate Lyle for me, it's important, and then try and contact Corinna. She went to Blue Cove. Thon's appearance and subsequent death has escalated this project. It's time to step it up another notch."
"And will you meet them at the usual place?"
"The house in Virginia. Tell the pilot to head home, as well." C. Carter leaned back in his leather chair, closing his emerald eyes. He hoped that Lyle could hold out a little longer. Things sure had changed from when they originally recruited the young man. He went from Centre mole for William Raines to agent with an agenda once he discovered the truth, an agenda that he had sanctioned, wholeheartedly.
Cyrus Carter hated it when his schedule was thrown off. From September until May, he reserved Friday mornings for visiting his daughter Devin in California. She attended the University of Southern Cal, and this was their time together. He had become both father and mother to his little girl when his wife, Clare, had died from ovarian cancer fifteen years ago.
However on this Friday, he had had to attend a Board of Directors meeting for CDC Industries, one of the three he sat on since taking over his wife's duties. Although being a board member gave him a more than comfortable living, he only stayed on because his daughter would eventually take his place, and he in good conscience could not give up his position at the company. Now his time with Devin would have to be postponed indefinitely. The President wanted action and results regarding Thon and the Centre. In other words, this was the number one priority at the moment. The American people wanted answers on how a murderer from another country almost made a mockery of the United States and all it stood for by nearly becoming a citizen.
"Melody, this coffee tastes like mud," he said. "No. It's worse than that." He placed his cup on the desk, pushed it away, and lit his pipe.
"Sorry, C," she said as she brought the cell phone over to him, "Lyle's on the line."
"Lyle, it's Cyrus. I want to tell you that everyone, and I mean everyone, including the guy in Oval Office himself, thinks you're doing a great job with a lousy situation."
"Cyrus, let's cut the crap. Things suck and they're only going to get worse. A lot worse."
"Why do you say that?"
"I'm the one buried in this up to my ass and the deeper I get the more I forget just who the hell I am. My God, I've gone from wife killer to cannibal in my sister's eyes. The fear in her eyes. . . she tries to hide it but it flickers to the surface for mere moments before she can bury it under her tough as nails exterior. What juicy revelation is Jarod going to find now to give her, that I molest children? I have a son to think about when this is over."
Cyrus propped his elbows up on his ebony desk, and signaled for Melody to leave him alone with the phone. He hadn't forgotten about the little infant that was ensconced in the Centre's nursery. When Lyle had come to him and told him what the old man wanted him to do, it nearly curled his toes and he was a hard man to repulse.
"I realize that Lyle, and don't worry about it. He's going to eventually understand why you did this just like your sister will?"
"And Jarod, what about him? Will he understand? I killed his brother. He doesn't forgive let alone forget."
"Kyle was a threat, a loose cannon, and it was an accident.'
"That's right I was only suppose to wound him so that your boys in dark suits could come and get him," his voice was bitter. "Yet another plan involving me that went a little off course." He paused. "Let me know what you plan for me next."
"We need to meet; tomorrow night; the usual place."
"I live to serve." Lyle cut the connection.
Cyrus closed his cell phone. Lyle was on the edge but he was also an asset, and possibly the cleverest operative they'd ever had. His biggest weakness was overcompensation for the feelings of worthlessness that Raines, that bastard, had instilled in him. Lyle's original goal had been to take down The Centre at any cost. Now that was tempered by a need to protect his newfound sister, and somewhat unexpected son. The family connection was a nuisance, but the man had deserved some truth.
His entire existence was based on Centre lies.
The agency had made mistakes with Lyle. Revealing his parentage, or at least the timing of that revelation, was one of the worst. The CIA could not save him from Yakuza punishment, and admitting CIA involvement would have been disaster. Lyle had realized he was out there on his own. Cyrus had not understood how fragile Lyle was afterward. Corinna had some idea; she had wanted Lyle to have a six-month forced medical leave with counseling. The staff shrink determined that Lyle was fit for restricted duty.
Lyle was assigned to set up a Las Vegas sting operation. He was given a new name, a new persona, and a new mail-order bride. The "wife," Che Ling, was a Chinese intelligence agent assigned to work with the CIA. She and Lyle had an excellent rapport that Cyrus suspected went deeper than their working relationship. The assignment progressed smoothly.
Then Cyrus made a tactical error. Lyle's infiltration was key to bringing down The Centre; they did not have another agent capable of taking over. The committee suggested acquiring Jarod - that would have been a feat - or trying to turn Miss Parker. Cyrus set up a meeting with Lyle to discuss options, and Lyle shot down every one. He wanted another chance at the assignment. Cyrus promised it to him when his current assignment was completed.
As part of the promise, Cyrus gave Lyle the CIA's sketchy information on The Centre's genetic experimentation, and told him that accessing more in-depth information would definitely get Lyle back into The Centre. Lyle was blasé about the genome project; he had peripheral knowledge of Raines' cloning experiments but was never involved.
Lyle's disinterest hit a raw nerve with Cyrus. Looking back, he knew it stemmed from memories of Clare's suffering and death. As another example of poor timing, Cyrus had scheduled the meeting on his late wife's birthday. Cyrus's outrage at The Centre's attitude toward human life and suffering got the better of his judgment. All the problems The Centre could put their genius and wealth to work on, all the cancers and genetic diseases they could have cured, and they decide to build the perfect brain. How God-like of them, how inhuman. His feelings had distracted him, made him careless. Cyrus handed Lyle the information on his genetic background. The Red File Program made everything personal.
Finding out he was a Parker had not had a desirable effect on Lyle. The quest for the genetic key to The Centre became an instant obsession. Two weeks later, he disappeared. His next stop was a Centre facility in Hartford, Conn. Lyle had gone over the edge. If his return to power at The Centre involved deaths, so be it. Raines' training had finally proved successful; Lyle had innocent blood on his hands.
The Vegas Project was compromised and collapsed. It was an embarrassment to the CIA and Chinese intelligence, and a major mess to clean up afterward. By the time Lyle resurfaced back in Vegas it was all over. He asked about Che Ling, but he was persona non grata, and got no answers. He disappeared again. The committee felt Lyle was irretrievable. Corinna disagreed with their decision. Cyrus hoped they were wrong, that Lyle would nurse his wounds and pull himself together. Via Corinna, he dropped Lyle the information that Kyle was still alive. Who better to catch one Centre trained CIA operative than another?
Lyle and Kyle, Cyrus wondered if that was Raines' little joke. Of course, Lyle had chosen that name himself. He called it a tribute to his adoptive father, the man who had forced Bobby to call him "Mister Lyle," and who had helped Raines warp Bobby into the tool The Centre wanted. Kyle was an inside Centre project of Raines' manufacture. Anything Raines touched became damaged goods. Recruiting Kyle had been an error in judgment. Cyrus had hoped for another CIA operative in The Centre, but Kyle was Centre controlled, and could not be turned. Still, he had been useful, and the main goal of the Red Rock Retrieval was to capture him, or at least injure him enough to be captured. Cyrus had not known that Lyle had drawn Jarod into the mix, and that Jarod brought in Lyle's sister.
Lyle and Jarod were another conundrum. Lyle had respect for Jarod's intelligence, something Jarod did not appear to return. He seemed jealous of Jarod's closeness to Miss Parker (a hell of a way to address your own sister) and Sydney. Jarod's black and white vision of the world would only allow him to see Lyle as an enemy. For the most part, they acted like playground rivals, jockeying for king of the mountain on a very adult and dangerous jungle gym. That turned out to be the reason for Jarod's presence at the Retrieval. Lyle, in his temporary insanity, saw Jarod as the way back to The Centre. He also saw the taking of Jarod's thumb as retribution for loosing his own. Blame, juvenile in two such intelligent men, but there you have it. Cyrus shook his head.
Jarod was a variable who both helped and hindered their projects. In the case of Thon, Jarod had ruined the CIA's original plan. Lyle had brought Ki Mok, Colonel Chen Thon, to Patriotic Hall on the pretense of arranging citizenship and a cushy job. Corinna had brought the blind woman, Kim Che, there to implicate Thon. The CIA was supposed to swoop in and "save" Thon from justice, then use him to get deeper into both the Oriental and Venezuelan undergrounds. Jarod had thrown in the monkey wrench; Lyle had attempted to repair the damage, with little success; the project had been scrapped. The backup plan had been simple, elimination of embarrassment. A good move, considering the President's reaction to the debacle. Lyle was the only one left hanging...again.
Lyle had worked on this project since college. The Oriental studies demanded by both the CIA and The Centre were no coincidence. The agendas of the two organizations ran parallel at times; it was their final destinations that caused the roads to diverge.
****
"I live to serve." Lyle said it to C. Carver and repeated it to himself. Yes, that was the purpose for which he was bred and trained. Raines had beaten that into his head, with the help of his father, rather the man he knew as father for the first years of his life. His biological father had supposedly thought him dead, ordered his death, and then brought him under his wing. Lyle slipped the cell phone into his pocket, and tried to put those thoughts aside. Some scars were not visible, some were. He rubbed at the ache in his phantom thumb, while he watched the pre-dawn light creeping over the edge of the Atlantic.
Another sleepless night, like so many before, it got harder to sleep every day. Jarod slept fitfully; that made Lyle smile. Jarod should sleep like a baby after all the rescues and good deeds he performed, including the cure of Kim Che and the saving of Emma Barrett from the Yakuza. The only problem was that Jarod's successes regularly screwed Lyle's plans.
Jarod had reason to hate him. He had assisted Mr. Raines in several experiments on the pretender and others. Lyle felt some shame for his actions, but they had been necessary to cement his position in The Centre. The end justified the means. Somehow, that seemed less valid when he woke in a cold sweat at 2:00 in the morning, or spent the night wondering if he could build a life after he completed his mission. Grudgingly, Lyle admitted that, in some small corner of his mind, he had enjoyed torturing Jarod into submission after capturing him at the airport. That Jarod had faked his surrender was mild irony. Lyle's entire life was a ruse.
Lyle wanted to grab his son and run, but he knew that was not possible. The child was the next generation of Red Files, far too valuable for The Centre to just release, and Lyle would not risk his life. Instead he got back into his car and drove home.
He could not remember the drive or walking into his home. When he came back to himself he was standing in the shed shaking violently. Thoughts streamed through his head. Thoughts of claiming the murdered prostitute's body from the Bangkok morgue; paying off the attendant; and what he had to do to her cold, lifeless body. He threw himself through the closet door and ripped off his clothes on the way to the shower. He stood under the steaming water until his skin was bright red and his breathing had calm. He had enough trouble differentiating between reality and his constructed persona. Then Jarod dredged up another episode from his deliberately checkered past, and he found himself in the shed reliving his nightmares. Damn him, the judgmental
SOB! Why does he have to hang around Blue Cove and The Centre? Why does he have to throw my past in Parker's face? Why can't he just go away?
Lyle turned off the water and stood for a time with his face against the cool tile. He got out of the shower and toweled off, scrubbing absently at the tattoo on his arm. He noticed his actions and stopped. The oureboros, symbol of eternity and life from death, twisted by Colonel Thon until it became the Cambodian symbol for cannibalism -- It was etched into his skin just as the memories of what Thon taught him were etched into his mind. It had taken fancy footwork and quick thinking to avoid putting Thon's teaching to use. Lyle felt the bile rise in his throat and gagged. He brushed his teeth till his gums bled.
Reaching into the closet for clothes he could feel the shed call to him, telling him it was dark and quiet, he could sleep and be safe. He put on his Lyle persona with his suit. He adjusted his objets d'art until they were properly aligned. Picking up a small china bowl he remembered the woman who gave it to him, Mai Lin. Lyle knew that was not her real name; he did not want to know her real name. It was better this way; anonymity was safer for CIA operatives. May Lin was the name she chose for the part of a waitress at The Hidden Truth, the part of a serial killer's victim. So much blood was on his hands; it was hard to tell the difference at times, but it made a difference to him. Her death was not real, she was safe, or at least alive and elsewhere on another assignment. He hoped she was safe; she had reminded him so much of Che Ling, the last woman he would allow himself to love.
Lyle exited his condo and headed back to the parking garage he'd left what seemed like only moments before. He was late for the Centre. Not that it mattered. Mr. Parker was away on business again and it wasn't as if his sister would be waiting to greet him with a loving smile. God, he wondered as he hit the highway in his Mercedes, what would it be like to have her smile at me as if she were really glad to see me? He'd seen that smile on her face when she didn't think he was looking. When she was grateful to Sydney for some help he'd given her or when Broots said something to make her laugh. They were both good men, and he was glad she had them, but Lyle was fully aware of how much he envied both. They got the part of her that should have belonged to him.
What was meant to be a quick stop in his office turned into a 2-hour marathon of paperwork - a task that fell heavy on him while the Chairman was away. Lyle rarely even looked at what he was signing anymore. They were orders to do terrible things to more people, some innocent some not so, but still, what was the point of caring anymore? He had to do these things to accomplish his goal. That brought a small smile to his face, and made him think of someone he wanted to see. Standing, he left his office and wandered down the hallway to the office that now served as a nursery for his "baby brother."
Lyle pushed open the door and found the nurse sitting at her desk working on reports. She did not question his appearance. Both he and Parker as well as Sydney and Raines had blanket access to this room. He hated that Raines was allowed anywhere near his son, but his arguments about trust had fallen on deaf ears. Mr. Parker believed he could control Raines. Foolish, foolish, man, Lyle thought. If you could really control him, my life wouldn't be the hell it was...that it is.
He gazed down at the baby who lay inside his crib happily playing with a set of soft fabric blocks Lyle knew had been a gift from Parker. The baby boy smiled up at him, and Lyle felt a catch in his throat. He didn't do this often. Coming near the baby usually only reminded him of how much he had to lose, but somehow today he needed this. Needed to see his son and remember that there was a chance for a future when this was over. Then he did something he never did. He reached out to touch his son. His hand was about to grasp that of his son when he heard her voice from behind him.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Lyle heard the combination of anger and fear in Parker's voice and he took a deep breath before turning around. It was like a knife in his heart to know that she feared he would hurt the baby. As his eyes fell on her, as he took in the fury in her ice blue eyes, part of him wanted to grab her and shake her and say, "Don't you understand? He's my son! You're my sister! I love you both! Don't you understand?"
But he couldn't do that, and he knew it. At least, he couldn't do it yet. Instead he reminded himself to focus in on what was good about the look in her eyes. Parker would never, never let Raines or anyone else hurt his son. Lyle knew that in the deepest part of his heart, and it was sometimes all that kept him going. Still, he had to deal with the situation at hand. He took another deep breath and pulled his Mr. Lyle cloak more tightly around himself.
"I was visiting the baby. Do you have a problem with that?"
Parker narrowed her eyes and stepped forward. Clearly, despite the fear she'd felt surge up yesterday after confronting him about his past, Parker was still willing to challenge him when she felt it necessary. She kept moving closer until she was standing directly in front of him, arms crossed in front of her.
"The baby is off limits to you."
"Says who?"
"Says me. You are not going to rub your disgusting, pathetic habits off on this child, do you understand me, Lyle?"
"Gee, Parker, that biological clock's wound a little tight, don't you think? Besides, Dad doesn't have a problem with me coming here. I do have permission, you know."
"I don't care." She spoke the words slowly, accentuating each and every word. Her gaze was so intense that Lyle felt himself step back from her, then he cleared his throat and headed for the door as she continued speaking.
"I ever catch you or Raines playing any of your sick little games with this baby and you'll both wish to God that you'd never been born."
Lyle turned around again, his best grin on his face. God, she was magnificent. A mother bear ready to strike down any threat to her young. He had meant it when he told her how beautiful she was when she was angry. She dropped her mask then. No more Miss Parker the uncaring - instead she was fierce and amazing. Still, he knew that "Mr. Lyle" couldn't think those thoughts. He had to be angry with her for what she'd said. He had to wound her to keep the façade in place. And so Lyle swallowed hard and opened his mouth and added another mark to the column of reasons why Parker should hate him.
"Quite the little mother, Sis. Too bad you've never managed to bring Jarod back. Then you could be off raising a litter with the carpenter - well, if he were still alive."
Lyle saw the pain that rushed through Parker's body at the mention of Thomas and his murder. He turned quickly, moving to the door because he knew that's what she expected him to do. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her step toward the crib and pick up the baby.
He headed back to his office to gather up some work then left for the day. He needed to get on the road if he were going to make it to Virginia in time for the meeting with Carver. It was only after he was on the highway, speeding more than 100 mph down the road that he let himself feel sorry for what he'd said to his sister. He felt an overwhelming urge to cry, suddenly, but he fought it off. He didn't do that - couldn't do that. Once he started crying, Lyle was afraid with all he had to cry for he would never stop.
