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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer in part 1
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 2
by Renewal Wing
It was the incessant beep beep of the alarm that woke her from her slumber. When she glanced at the red digital numbers, she cursed. The jog through the park had exhausted her, something she had prayed for after last night's meeting with Lyle, however, the morning seemed to have gotten away from her. Corinna pushed back the forest green bed sheets and stretched her lithe, slim body. Then rising slowly out of her bed, she figured it was time to face the day and its problems.
She headed into the kitchen, her body calling for a hot cup of coffee to get her moving. The aroma of roasted coffee hung in the air as she entered the kitchen's doorway. Well, at least the coffee machine was working. Perhaps today would be a good day. As she reached for the coffee mug, which held a double cup -- a gift from Lyle -- a smile started to form. She poured the hot black liquid nearly to the brim and inhaled deeply, then padded over toward the phone to check her messages. The small red light on the answering machine just stared back at her, unblinking.
Lyle had probably left for the Centre and another day in hell, at least as far as he was concerned. What he needed was some downtime. She would talk to Cyrus and arrange it. A few days to gather his wits - her cabin at Dream Lake seemed to be calling.
Her train of thought was interrupted by the shrill of her telephone. Reaching for the receiver, she pulled it off the cradle, expectantly.
"Lyle?"
"No, Corinna, it's Melody. Cyrus wishes to speak with you."
"Put him on," she replied, a sense of foreboding hitting her.
"Good morning, Corinna. You are a hard woman to track down," he said lightheartedly, and yet a sense of urgency was laced within.
"You could have paged me."
"I did, twice. You ought to check your pager."
Damn, she thought, in the whirlwind of last night's turmoil with Lyle, she had forgotten to check her pager when she had gotten in from her run. She had headed into the shower and then crawled into bed, sleep had conquered her almost immediately.
"My fault, Cyrus. Lyle had an identity crisis last night. I warned you, even recommended six months forced sick leave with scheduled visits to the Agency shrink. He managed to convince you and the shrink he was fine. Now he goes along the dark road, whence they say no one returns."
"I didn't know you read Odes, Corinna?" Cyrus responded dryly.
"Devin recommended it to me." she said," It's the truth, Cyrus. He's so tightly wound...he's going to snap again. I just hope that no one dies, this time. He still has vivid nightmares regarding the deaths of the people he killed at the Centre's Hartford office."
"That's one of the reasons behind the call. He's on his way to the house for a meeting. You too. I'll arrive around 6:00. I want to see him, talk to him before we step this operation up a notch. The President himself wants this to continue on the course it's on."
"Damn it, Cyrus! He doesn't need anymore bullshit from the agency. He could use a break. Some downtime."
"I understand, Rinna, I do, but..." he said her name softly, "Jarod's interference, it screwed up everything. I need to know that this isn't going to affect him. He needs to see this mission through to the end. The agency cannot have another fiasco like Vegas. Once I have his reassurance, then a few days off won't hurt."
"My, aren't you generous, Cyrus?" Her voice was sharp as she spoke.
"Six o'clock, Corinna."
"I'll be there. I just hope that you know what you are doing." She returned the phone to its cradle and headed for the bathroom.
Cyrus stared at the phone. He gathered his wits, cleared his throat and waited for Melody to poke her head into the office.
"How long before we land?" he asked, his hand reaching for the phone.
"About two hours, sir."
Cyrus picked up for the phone and dialed. He listened to the rings. The call was picked up in the third ring, as usual.
"It's Carter, here. Put me through to Channing, Teresa."
"Of course, Mr. Carter. One moment."
"Hello, Cy." The voice had quietness to it, but one could detect an edge of authority, too.
"Tucker, I need to know where Jarod is?"
"You could say hello first, Cyrus. I am still your superior." Her laugh echoed over the line, clear as crystal. "Lyle in rough shape?"
"Son of a bitch. You have got to stop doing that," he responded. "It's unnatural."
"Cyrus, you only inquire about Jarod's whereabouts when he's messed something up regarding Lyle and Corinna. And with the headlines screaming about Thon's death, I figured it would only be a matter of time before you called. You need him out of the way for a while, I take it?"
"That's why you're the boss, Tucker."
"Can it, Cy, just keep me informed regarding the Centre and Lyle. You know that you have carte blanche regarding this mission, but if Lyle goes off half-cocked again, he's finished, done. Nothing will save him. Understand?"
"Loud and clear, Tucker."
"As for the genius, there's always some individual that needs help somewhere. Will do what's necessary on this end regarding him."
Lyle pulled the car into the driveway and exited the vehicle, taking his briefcase into the house. He was the first one to arrive. Typical. Cyrus had been in the air when he called to inform him of the meeting here. Corinna was probably on her way. Stuart had told him this morning that she'd been out late running. So he had gotten to her again. He didn't mean to, but she understood him as well as Che Ling had.
Che Ling, he hadn't thought about her in such a long time, but something about Kim Che remind him of her. Entering the house, he made his way to the living room, and found himself sinking into the armchair. He snapped open his briefcase and was removing some of the unfinished paperwork from earlier this morning when his eyes caught sight of a photograph buried underneath the folders.
Taking hold of the photo, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Che Ling. A beautiful woman -- delicate, small and exquisite. Her face looked as though it had been carved of the finest ivory, her eyes were dark onyx, and her scent - lotus flowers. She'd been brilliant, speaking English, French, Japanese and, of course, Chinese. Her knowledge of world affairs put his to shame.
Lyle wondered just how much Cyrus had known about their relationship. That he had wanted to marry her had nearly bowled him over. That she reciprocated the feelings astounded him. For once something good came to him.
When he had asked her to be his wife, she tried to make light of the situation, but both realized how serious that moment had been for them. They talked about everything at great length -- what it meant to their lives, their careers and about their future. Then his world crashed and burned, and it was the truth regarding his parentage that caused the fiery inferno. He became obsessed, out of control, and when he returned to his senses, things would never be the same again.
Innocent people had lost their lives and his career with the agency almost hit rock bottom, but Corinna spoke up for him. The worst part was that the Vegas operation crumbled because of his temporary insanity and his beloved was lost to him.
He had so wanted to leave Che Ling out of Centre affairs, but leave it to Jarod. Che Ling's memory was besmirched and his twisted. The truth was buried and replaced with a warped version to fit his persona. He should have been used to being viewed as a killer by then, but somehow, seeing that identity of him burning in Parker's eyes...that had been so much worse than anything he'd ever seen before.
Tucker Channing leaned her head back in the leather chair, a small flicker of a smile on her features. She had been expecting Cyrus's call the moment that Teresa had brought the faxed article from the AP into her office. Thon's demise was naturally a blow to the agency, but one they could recover from.
She had warned Cyrus that Jarod had been keeping rather close tabs on Mr. Lyle, and now her help was needed. She had been in this business as long as Cyrus, in fact the two of them had been recruited their second year of college, in very much the same fashion as he had recruited Lyle and Corinna. Lyle had been a coup for Cyrus and the Agency. If it hadn't been for Claire's death, fifteen years ago, it would be Cyrus sitting in this chair and not her.
Reaching for the telephone, she quickly dialed the number that she needed and waited impatiently.
"Hello," the male voice answered on the other end.
"Hello, A?"
"Boss Lady, good to hear from you. How are you this fine day?"
"If I were in a good mood, I wouldn't be calling A. You know that. Where's our boy?"
"J-man's roaming around the Grand Canyon. Why?"
"He involved in anything at the moment, A?"
"Nah, just seems to be relaxing. Anything I can do for you, Boss Lady?
"Yes, there is, A. I need to keep him out of Agency, as well as Centre affairs for a while. He walked in on a rather sensitive case and well, suffice it to say, the whole operation went south. Anything happening that might get his attention?"
"Funny that you should call, there's a young woman that was just found in the park high as a kite on heroin. Seems that she was suppose to show up in court regarding custody of her son. Instead she nose-dived into a little bag of white powder. Right now she's in rehab at Vista House."
"And you think that might interest our boy, how?"
"Name's Jill Arnold, Boss Lady. I do my homework. Her dad used to work at the Centre. He supposedly died in a drowning accident about twenty years ago. I figure that J-man will check it out."
"Fine, you do what you have to do to interest him in this Jill Arnold, and you stay out of it this time, but keep me informed. You do understand, don't you?"
"Yes, Boss Lady. Get J-man's focus off the Centre for a while."
"Thanks, A. Have a good day, and give Dog a hello from me."
"We'll do, Boss Lady. I'll call you only if it doesn't work out."
Tucker terminated the phone call and knew that she didn't have to worry. Her operative may look like the biggest fool in the whole world, but the saying looks can be deceiving certainly rang true with him. If anyone could get Jarod's attention away from the Centre, it was Argyle. She'd let Cyrus know that Jarod was in Arizona and that her operative had the situation under control, for the time being.
Corinna glanced at the dashboard clock. 4:00. She had made better time than she thought, yet she hated these emergency meetings. She had been trying to reach Lyle's cell phone for the last thirty minutes and got the damned answering service. He was probably at the house. If there was one foible about Lyle, it was his concept regarding punctuality - never late, not after the deaths of Cindy and Sue. He never forgave himself for that. He'd been ten minutes late that night. He always believed that if he had been on time, he could have prevented the tragedy. She wondered what woul
d have happened if he had prevented the ex-boyfriend from killing the girls, for it was their deaths that became an important building block in establishing "Mr. Lyle's" dossier.
She turned the blue Lexus on to the tree-lined street. The neighborhood was peacefully quiet. A few families were exiting their homes, some children were being ushered into the front doors for dinner, and a few dogs barked at the cars that cruised the street.
She pulled the car into the driveway and parked it next to Lyle's. Her hunch had been right on the money, already here. Exiting the car, she singled out the key to the front door and entered the house. The aroma of food permeated the house, and her stomach rumbled with the first pangs of hunger.
"Lyle?"
"In the kitchen, Rinna," he called out, so she made her way through the living room and caught sight of his briefcase on the floor. She deposited her blazer across the back of the armchair before entering the kitchen, pushing up the sleeves of her navy silk blouse, and offered to help by setting the table.
"What smells so good?" she said, as she looked at the man that had been so depressed only last night.
"Your favorite, smoked tomato and shiitake mushroom risotto. So, I hope you're hungry," he turned and grinned.
"Famished. You realize that Cyrus hates vegetarian."
"I made him risotto with prosciutto." He turned back to his work, chuckling.
"You seem to be in a better mood." Corinna walked to the cupboard that housed the dishes and took out three plates, then pulled open the drawer below removing the necessary silverware.
"Cooking is a wonderful way to relax, and with Cyrus on his way to evaluate my mental stability after this debacle with Thon, I figured the easiest way to bribe my partner was through her stomach. I have a feeling that Cyrus is pretty upset over this and that my neck is on the line. Then again, when hasn't it been? Since this started, something or someone always seem to screw it up."
"You don't need to bribe me Lyle, but you do need to talk about things more often. You know that a couple of sessions with the Agency shrink won't hurt. Helps clear the head. Especially after being kidnapped by Jarod this time." She watched his shoulders tighten at the mention of the pretender's name.
"You know what would clear my head, a few days away at Dream Lake."
"Well, the cabin's always available. You know that."
It was the roar of an engine that halted the conversation from the two in the kitchen. Corinna finished setting the table, while Lyle removed three crystal long-stemmed glasses from the overhead rack, along with the chilled bottle of wine from the fridge. They were in their seats when Cyrus appeared in the doorway.
"Good, you're both here. Let's get down to business."
He took his seat across from his two agents, his eyes never leaving Lyle'
s.
"I can not believe he said what he said." Lyle paced, frustrated, in front of the table. "He can't be serious about this!"
"Calm down please." Corinna started to move toward him, but stopped.
"Calm down? Corinna, didn't you understand what he said?" Lyle's hand pointed towards Cyrus' now vacant seat. "He expects me to...oh no, I can't even think about this --" he interrupted himself, shaking his head in misery.
Not knowing what to do, Corinna picked up her glass of wine and took a small sip of the now warm liquid. He had every right to be upset. Of all of them, he had made the biggest sacrifices and all they did was ask more. The prospect of having a family afterwards had kept him up and going - a sister and a son who both loved him. Now he was looking at the ashes of his dreams, of his life.
Almost if he had read her thoughts he turned on his heels and looked her in the eyes. "Call me Phoenix."
With this he was gone.
***
"What do you want to do?" Sydney asked in a low, calm voice, closely observing the young woman in front of him. She reminded him of a tiger worried about one of her cubs. During the last thirty minutes she had developed and dismissed more plans to keep Lyle away from her baby brother than he would have believed possible. He had not seen her so upset since, well, since longer than he cared to remember.
A frustrated expression washed over Miss Parker's face, and she leaned over Sydney's desk. "If I had the slightest idea how to keep that psycho's slimy fingers off the baby, would I be here asking you?" she replied in an accusing tone. She hated feeling weak. Even before she walked into the doctor's office she had been sure that he had no solution; all she needed was to talk to somebody who would listen so she could feel safe to reveal her feelings.
This was a kind of private game -- she pretended not to need him and he pretended not to know. This silent agreement gave her the security she needed. The knowledge that she did not fool him made it easier for her to keep up her facade. He read between the lines. He always had been able to do that.
Sydney leaned back into his chair, turning a pencil in his hands whilehe kept eye contact with his colleague. After she lost Thomas he had missed the fire in her eyes; the man's death had killed a part of her as well. She had looked like the little girl that lost her mother. Sydney had feared they finally succeed in breaking her, but now he could see the fire burning again. She was ready to fight. She was alive. Unconsciously, he started to smile.
"What is so funny, Dr Frankenstein?" Miss Parker asked in a harsh tone, but his smile was so warm and infectious that she had a hard time notsmiling back.
Sydney brought his face back under control in a split-second "Sorry, I was just thinking," he replied.
"Well, while you are deep in pleasant thoughts, I will do somethinguseful." Miss Parker pushed herself away from Sydney's desk and walkedtoward the door.
"What do you intend to do?" Sydney asked, alarmed.
"Don't worry, Mom," she answered without looking back, "I just want to make sure Lyle does not touch my brother again."
She hesitated a second, then turned around and gave him one of her rare real smiles. It made him want to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be all right.
"And it is time for my little brother's bottle."
Before Sydney could react, the doors closed behind her. Leaning further back, he closed his eyes and brought her smiling face to his inner eye. She was more like her mother than she ever dared to hope. She had the same spirit, but one advantage -- unlike her mother she was trained to survive.
Jarod paced in his small lair; he was irritated. Irritated? That was the understatement of the year. He was used to knowing the way another person thought, but he was failing with Lyle. He had failed with Miss Parker at times as well, but that never really bothered him, maybe because he was used to it. She had fooled him more than once when they where children, and that made it fun to play with her.
Since he had escaped they played a very adult version of the hide and seek they once played in the Centre's dark tunnels. More than once she had done things that had surprised him, but this made things interesting. Sending her a new hint was like playing with fire. One day she might figure things out too soon, and he would get burned.
Well, Jarod thought with huge smile, she would not do so as long she worked with Sydney and Broots. She always relied too much on them instead of trusting her instinct and judgment. On the other hand, he was never sure what she was really doing or thinking. Sometimes he was not sure if he was still free because of himself, or just because....
He shook his head vehemently. This was a trail of thought he had no time to follow. Later maybe, much later. It could mean finding out things he was not sure he really wanted to know; it also required dealing with his feelings and memories, something he was not ready to do. Instead, he turned his attention back to the problem of Mr. Lyle.
Jarod had told Parker that somebody had to stop Lyle before it was too late. Since then he had kept a close eye on him, but Lyle was smart. He had been able to escape his observation several times. Damn! Argyle had chosen just the wrong moment to ask him to save a family on the brink of loosing everything. The pretend had taken only two days but in the mean time, he had lost track of Lyle again. That made him worry.
Every shred of information he uncovered about his nemesis made him more concerned for the people in Blue Cove he cared about, and yes, though he didn't want to let his thoughts wander back there, that list included Miss Parker. If Lyle could do the things to strangers that he did, people who had done nothing to him, what would he do to Sydney or Miss Parker if they got in his way once to often?
Now in the middle of one of the most tense and important times at the Centre in recent history, Lyle seemed to have dropped off the radar. The reappearance of Edna Raines had been both unexpected and a little frightening for Jarod. He knew that she could be the key to unlocking the secrets of the Centre, but he couldn't fight off the sense that whatever it was Edna wanted to tell Miss Parker would unlock a Pandora's box from which none of them might escape.
It was time for him to pay Edna a visit. He'd tracked her down to a halfway house in Harlem, and before he sent Miss Parker down the path to find her, he wanted to try and get the woman to open up to him. Once he got settled again, he would search the new government files he'd hacked into recently and see if there was any information there on his "friend" Mr. Lyle.
****
The gentle waves from the lake reached shore and worked to calm Lyle a bit, and he realized that the days he'd spent here had been good for him, even they hadn't solved his problems. God, how could Cyrus expect him to do this? It was simply not possible; he would loose everything. None of his sacrifices would have done any good; nothing would bring him a little peace. No, this would destroy it all. If his sister ever got even a piece of this information, he was sure the next thing he would get from her was a bullet in his head.
Knowing Jarod, it would not take him long to "discover" this, and there was no way he would not tell her about it. Damn it, life was complicated enough; with Jarod around it was even harder. Jarod was so smug, he was the knight in the shining amour and all the others were stupid little kids, waiting for him to tell them the truth. Damn him for all those games he had played with his sister. He could break every bone in Jarod's body...helping her, sure, helping her.
The short period of time Jarod had been back in the Centre and under Lyle's control had been a relief of sorts. Jarod was unable to complicate the CIA's plans, and Lyle had an excuse to get rid of some of his hard feelings for the Pretender. It shamed him to admit it, even to himself, but God, he had enjoyed torturing Jarod. He shook his head and the memory away.
He turned to Corinna's lovely cabin behind him. Here it was perfect, a perfect space, and a place out of time and reality. Looking around, Lyle realized there was only one possibility. He needed to get his sonand his sister before he lost them both forever. It would not be easy, that was sure, but the only chance he had was to reach them before Jarod could reach his sister and tell the latest dark secret he found. If he were too late he would never have a chance to come close enough to get them.
While driving back to Blue Cove, a plan formed in Lyle's mind. Thoughts of kidnapping his own son were unpleasant, but he knew as soon as he had the baby in his arms his sister would follow like a lamb. He could only hope she would give him time to explain everything, and even more that she would believe him. No matter what, his life was over.
It had all begun to unravel in the most unexpected manner a few days ago. Mr. Parker had summoned him - he couldn't manage to think of him as his father anymore, not since what had happened with Brigitte and the baby - and they'd discussed what seemed to Lyle to be fairly unimportant matters. Then the Chairman had stood up and started pacing behind his desk.
"You know, son, there are a lot of things I would like to accomplish here, plans I've made I'd like to set in motion."
"Dad," he had nearly choked on the word, but managed to get it out without showing his revulsion, "you know that I will do anything to help you."
Mr. Parker had stopped walking then, stopping so he could stare Lyle in the eye.
"And what makes you think I'd trust you with something so important?"
The statement had taken Lyle aback. After everything he had done to prove himself to this man, including setting his own sister up for failure, endangering her life time and time again, still this man could question his loyalty?
"Dad, I know that things haven't always gone as we've planned..."
"As we've planned? You mean that you've consistently failed me. I've come to expect that from your - from others around here, but I expect better from my son. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Lyle opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. Parker turned his back, and the younger man had been around the Centre long enough to know a dismissal when he saw one. Swallowing his pride, Lyle turned and exited the room and headed toward his own office.
On the way, he'd passed by his sister's office, and it was one of those rare occasions where the door stood open. He glanced inside and he saw Parker at her desk, Broots and Sydney flanking her. The three of them were laughing about something, and he saw that smile she reserved for so few people. Someday, he'd thought, someday that smile will be for me.
Lyle knew that he was not a good man. He had enjoyed too many of the tasks given him by both of his masters, and he had taken life without provocation. There had been days when he had almost been too far down the road to turn back. That was when Catherine Parker would come into his thoughts, a picture of her visible in his mind as clearly as if he'd actually seen her once in his lifetime. Could her child really be unsalvageable?
Now, driving down the twisting highway that led home, it seemed that the someday he had dreamed of hung by a tenuous thread, and the only way to secure it was to do the impossible - he had to make Parker trust him.
Damn it, it was his own fault. He'd headed back to the office that day and beeped Cyrus. They met later that day, and he'd told his boss about the scene with Mr. Parker. Cyrus was clearly disappointed that the Centre chairman was so unwilling to trust his operative, and he knew that something was going to have to happen to change things.
Lyle understood the thinking when he stopped being angry. If his father wouldn't trust him, then he had to believe he could control his son. What Lyle hadn't expected was for Cyrus to use something that was tied to the most painful part of his past.
He remembered bitterly the months following Che Ling's disappearance, and the aimless, vengeful fog he had lived in. Then he had found new purpose in his life, and he set out to accomplish two goals. He would save his sister, and he would save the life of the one other person on earth Che Ling had loved.
He'd disappeared again, dropping out of the agency's radar and heading for the streets of Bangkok. That was where his search for redemption had to begin. And his first step was a girl named Li Nam.
A horn blared, ripping Lyle's thoughts back to the present. Startled, he looked up and realized he had drifted across the divider of the roadway. He jerked the wheel, moving back to his own side, his eyes blinking wildly.
Sleep deprivation. He'd suffered from it enough to know the signs, and he knew he shouldn't be driving, but Lyle was a man with a mission, one as strong and driving as those he'd undertaken years ago when the CIA had asked him to return to the Centre.
He reached down and hit the switch on his CD player, and soon the wonderful sounds of Kaiko Matsui filled the Mercedes. The music calmed his nerves, and he used an old meditation trick to focus his thoughts again by concentrating on a particular selection of beats. Corinna had actually taught him the technique, and again he had something to thank her for.
The rest of his drive proved uneventful, and he arrived home shortly after 2:00 a.m. He immediately went upstairs and opened his email. Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned back in his desk chair. The program he'd installed to trace Parker's email showed nothing from Jarod, so for now, he still had time to put his plan in motion, but there was no telling how long that would last. It was time to get to work. A sly smile crossed his face as Lyle realized he had a golden opportunity to gain an extra benefit from his latest scheme - he would make Jarod sorry he had ever made him look bad in his sister's eyes.
Lyle lay back on the cushions of his couch, exhausted. The sleeplessness was definitely beginning to get to him, and he doubted that he could get any shuteye with his ideas about Parker and the baby whirling around in his mind, but he had to try. After half an hour of fighting to keep his eyes shut, he moved to the bedroom, but not before lighting some incense to try and help him relax.
Finally, his mind began to let go of the plans it had to make and the obstacles it had to overcome, and as his eyes drifted closed, Lyle's internal vision filled with an image of a smiling 11-year-old girl with black eyes and a smile that hid all of the horror she had endured in her short lifetime. He held on to that picture as he finally surrendered to sleep. If he could save Li Nam, he could save his own family. He had to.
Two days later, Lyle returned to the Centre. He was ready to begin the most important task of his life, and he could not envision anything that would get in the way. Hell, not even Jarod could ruin things this time as long as he implemented things today.
Then he walked in his office, and he felt his gut drop to the floor.
Mr. Parker was waiting for him. He had a file in his hands marked "INTERPOL - CONFIDENTIAL." Lyle knew what it was without needing to have it opened.
"Son, I think we need to have a talk."
Lyle nodded and closed the door. He moved to his desk, and sat on the edge as Mr. Parker moved closer, throwing the file on the desk.
"I think you know what's inside that, yes?"
"Sir, I am not involved any longer -"
"I should be completely disgusted by what I read in that file. That any child of mine would be involved in - the only reason I'm willing to give you any kind of chance to redeem yourself is because you are my son.
"The fact is, as I told you, I have plans. They begin with a task that I am going to assign to you. Complete it, and you will be given the ultimate prize - control of the Centre, at least, control under a Triumvirate run by me, of course."
The Chairman reached out and picked up a large envelope from the corner of Lyle's desk. Only then did Lyle realize he hadn't noticed it though it had been there all along. His father extended the packet towards him, and Lyle took it in his good hand.
"Read this. It'll get you up to speed. You'll find instructions on your assignment in there as well."
With that, Mr. Parker headed toward the door. Just as his hand reached out to push it open, he turned back to face his son.
"And be sure to take Willie and Covington with you. I want confirmation that the task has been completed. Otherwise, the FBI might just find the man they're looking for - only he might be missing a lot more than a thumb by then, hmm?"
An hour later, Lyle pulled his car over to the side of the road about seven miles away from the Centre. He barely made it out of the car before his stomach lurched and emptied its contents onto the dirt beneath him.
His mother - his poor mother. Lyle closed his eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to break free for the second time in so many weeks. He fought until the moisture dissipated, and he felt he had control again. Mirage - what a horribly ironic and evil name for the project that had robbed Parker of the mother he'd already lost so many years earlier than his sister had. If she found out about this -- Lyle felt his fists clench at the thought. Nothing could destroy Parker like this information could, and he had no choice but to go along with the twisted plot their father had put into play if he had any hope of keeping the CIA off his back long enough to get her and the baby out of the Centre.
And now a new person to find, this Ethan - this child his mother had died for. Damn Raines. Damn him straight to hell for what he'd done to their family.
Breathing deeply, he stood and climbed back into the car, then he reached over and picked up the envelope that held all the damning secrets of his family. He flipped through the pages, forcing his eyes away from the photos of his mother lying dead, her beautiful face torn away by Raines' gun, and he found what he was searching for. 56772 Lexington Ave., Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. That's where his "task" was waiting, a task he had no desire to undertake. The thought of taking another innocent life, even this one - he just didn't know how he was going to do it, and he didn't know how he could avoid it.
He sat there for hours, his mind whirling as he tried to think up a way out of the situation he was now in. Finding none, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.
"Willie, get Covington and meet me at the airfield. We have a job to do."
He hung up and closed his eyes again as he flipped the phone over onto the passenger seat. Then he reached out and gripped the wheel, and he let a few heartfelt words slip from his lips as he started the car.
"Please, Mom, please help me."
Just thinking of his mother made the images from the file photographs flash through his mind again, and Lyle felt a scream rising up inside his throat. Damn them. Damn them all - Mr. Parker, Raines, and even Cyrus. That made Lyle realize he had one other call he had to make before he left to meet Willie. He snatched the phone back up from where it had landed and dialed in another familiar number. After just one ring, Cyrus' strong, low voice responded from the other end of the line.
"Hello?"
"Did you know?"
"Know what, Lyle?"
"Did you know about what they did to my mother? Did you know about Mirage?"
"What the hell are you talking about? Your mother was murdered at the Centre two decades ago, I thought we'd established that."
"Cyrus, if I find out you know about -"
"Watch yourself. You don't have that many favors left with me."
Those words made Lyle stop before he said another word. He had been lied to so many times by so many people, he just didn't know how much more he could take. Still, there was a chance Cyrus hadn't known about this, and Lyle realized it had been foolish to attack him without finding out first.
"Cyrus, I just need to know."
"I told you what I knew." Cyrus felt Lyle evaluating him during the silence that followed his statement. He knew he deserved that scrutiny. It had been him, after all, that had kept the truth of Lyle's parentage a secret for years.
"My mother didn't die in that elevator."
For the next five minutes, Cyrus listened as Lyle recounted to him the sickening story revealed in the file Mr. Parker had so callously handed to the younger man earlier in the day. He also listened as Lyle revealed his assignment to eliminate Emily Russell.
"I know you'll do what's best when it comes to the Russell girl. Call m
e when you get back."
There was a pause, and Lyle was about to hang up when he suddenly heard C
yrus' voice again.
"I didn't know, Lyle, and I'm sorry you do."
Cyrus disconnected the line then and sank deeper into his chair. He'd meant what he said. No child should have to know that his mother had suffered the fate Catherine Parker had. It had been bad enough when Lyle had believed the story of her murder in the Centre by the mysterious dark-suited man who had most probably been William Raines, but this - Raines had truly proven himself to be the most heartless creature Cyrus had ever seen in his 40 some odd years with the CIA. The bastard had whatever was coming to him.
***
Miss Parker was struggling to stay upright as she walked down the hallway that led toward the baby's nursery. Last night had been - what words could she use to describe it? Last night she had dug up her mother's grave. She didn't know what kind of person that made her, only that thinking about it made the bucket of scotch she'd consumed last night slosh around in her stomach. Finally, she thought, the Centre had made her a ghoul just like all the rest of them. And yet, what if she had not done it? She would still be in the dark, still believe that her mother...
She couldn't even bring herself to finish that thought. It was more important to focus in on the why of the grave being empty than the possibilities opened up by its state of disuse.
Slowing, Parker reached the nursery. Normally she would have strolled in and picked the beautiful little boy up in her arms, and on any other day, that would have worked miracles on her disposition, but today she didn't want to touch him. Somehow she felt dirty and she didn't want to be responsible for putting Centre filth on the little boy any more than she wanted Lyle doing it. So today she just stood at the door, looking in as he worked at standing up in his crib, his little fists tight around the railings of his crib.
Parker shook her head, forcing herself to move away from the nursery and complete the journey she'd begun this morning. She was going to find her father, and she was going to get some answers. Instead, she found Lyle. He was sitting behind their father's desk. Seeing him there suddenly made all of her anger rise to the surface
"Well, it's about time you got back, Lyle. So, what's the flavor of the day, little brother, Mail-order Mama's from Malaysia, or Cannibal Quiche from the Kalahari?"
Lyle had looked up when she'd opened the door, and it had torn him away from thoughts of what had happened in Philadelphia earlier this morning. That in itself was reason to be happy to see her, not that he could show it. The flaming arrow she'd shot his way was easy enough for him to deflect, and he pasted on his best Mr. Lyle grin, but it was clear something was bothering her, and he was curious about what it was. He mentioned that their father was gone, and she'd gone for his throat. That's when Lyle smelled the scotch reeking off of her, and it when his stomach twisted into a knot -- what in the world had happened?
Then, the unthinkable happened - she apologized to him. That set Lyle's alarms off at full tilt. Parker never apologized to him.
"Okay, now I know you're sloshed. What's going on, Parker?"
She'd started to tell him. For one moment, Lyle had actually thought that she was going to trust him. She'd begun to explain what was wrong, something about their mother not "being there." Then her eyes caught something on the desk, and she froze up.
"You wouldn't understand anyway."
She stood and walked shakily across the room, her inebriation stopping her from stalking out the way she wanted to. Lyle watched her go, his heart warring between the need to know what had happened to his sister, and the fear of what he suspected it might be.
"But I want to know."
"I'll bet you do."
With that she was gone, and Lyle turned around and moved back toward the desk. Her words rang in his ears. "She's not there." And though he wanted to do nothing more than deny it, he knew that he had failed to protect her from even this most horrible revelation. His phantom thumb began to throb the way it always did when he was wound so tight emotionally, and he angrily tore off his glove as he dialed the number of someone who needed to know that Mirage might be in trouble.
"It's me. I've got a bad feeling Miss Parker knows about Catherine's empty grave."
He disconnected the line and continued to rub his thumb. Cyrus would call as soon as he got the message, and until then, there was nothing he could do.
The morning talk with Dad had been less than comforting. After finding out that Parker was on the track to finding out they had a brother, Mr. Parker's comment was "I don't want her knowing, for her own good. Hell, if she knew the truth she'd only wish she didn't." Lyle knew that was true, he wished he didn't know the reality of his mother's death, and suspect the truths behind it. Lyle promised his father and himself, to keep Parker "way behind the curve." He set up a surveillance, which his sister promptly circumvented. Another failure to protect the people he loved.
His father had said that Raines would be a blip on their radar if everything went well with Mirage. Mirage was such a wonderfully impersonal name for a person, dehumanizing, then again, The Centre liked to dehumanize everything and everyone, always for some ethereal greater good. Lyle did not have to fake enthusiasm for that part of the project. Getting Raines in his sights seemed a wonderful idea, and getting Mirage - Ethan - away from that bastard was even better.
Lyle spent the morning waiting for information and pretending business as usual. Willie waylaid him at the elevator with a newspaper headline that Emily was still alive. Lyle found his reply, "You try to kill with kindness," sadly amusing. He had done that. His actual orders had been to use the silencer and silence her. Willie came to help him and, Lyle was sure, to witness Emily's murder. He had to do something or Willie would. Emily backed away from them toward the window. Lyle tried to calculate the odds of surviving a two-story fall versus a bullet. The night janitor ended his reverie and forced his hand. Lyle turned and aimed at the startled man, who turned and ran without seeing the sweepers. Then Lyle grabbed Emily and threw her out the window, blocking thoughts and the image of her terror from his mind with action.
The return trip to Philly was tense and silent. Lyle found himself hoping for once, that Jarod got there first. He had, but Lyle's father did not share his relief, "It's your fault that she was still alive."
Yes, it was, thank God. His father inquired about Mirage then said something that chilled Lyle, "My daughter's searching for a ghost. My son's searching for a monster. Last one alive wins...hmm?" Was Ethan a monster? Time would tell. Was this supposed to be a contest to the death? Not if Lyle could help it, he had to get his sister out of The Centre.
***
Jarod was also neck-to-neck with him in the pursuit of Ethan. He found Campbell's home shortly after Raines' sweepers had killed them and shortly before Lyle's sweepers got there. The sweepers saw Jarod leaving the house but the police presence had prevented them from closing in on him. Cox's news that someone had hacked into the NuGenesis records for information on Ethan's father had made things worse. It did not seem possible to keep his sister safely out of this operation. The only hope was to get Jarod off the trail, and Cox found a way, Zoe.
Zoe's capture was simple and uneventful. She was clueless, foolish of Jarod to keep her that way. From bitter experience, Lyle knew that it was safer not to involve yourself with anyone who could be used against you. Taunting Jarod had been pleasant enough. Major Charles rescue had been a surprise. Lyle had not known about the father-son reunion. Unfortunate. He would have to be sure Cox took the blame for that one.
Willie's afternoon surprise, Raines' intercepted communiquE9 to the Triumvirate, was salvation. Lyle enjoyed setting up Raines' fall from power down to SL-25, where he belonged. He remembered telling the bastard that he thought he was his "only special project on the outside." He wished that he had been. He had a half-brother out there that Raines had damaged, a brother he still had to find. Raines had believed Lyle's offer to share power with him, and Mr. Parker had approved Lyle's fawning revelation of the plan. Lyle meant what he said about Raines' Holly Roller gag; praise was from one consummate actor to another. It was inspired but it did not save him in the end. Seeing the look on his face when he discovered the set up was priceless. Looking at his body after Mr. Parker finished the job was not nearly as satisfying.
Back in his apartment that night Lyle reflected that the coup put him back in his father's good graces, and in power, as planned. But Raines had managed to send Parker after Ethan and directly into the path of 7677. She almost died.
Lyle's heart sank at the thought. How Jarod had managed to save her, and Ethan he assumed, was a mystery. The sweepers, seconds late as usual, found only Miss Parker in a puddle in a side passage. There was no sign of Jarod or Ethan. The police investigation produced no bodies so far, and the sweepers were still searching.
Jarod had a throbbing headache, a consequence of proximity to a C4 explosion. Survival was an unexpected outcome. Jarod was amazed that his worst injury was the burn where his FBI identification card had partially melted into his skin. It was good he wore leather.
Ethan had sprung into motion as they jumped from the subway car. He ran, shouting at the voices that drove him, directly into a side tunnel under repair. There was a leaking water pipe and a braced wall, the crumbling infrastructure common to large cities. Once in the tunnel, Ethan again collapsed, Miss Parker went to him and Jarod threw himself over both of them. He heard Miss Parker's beginning protest, immediately drowned out by the concussion of the blast. The tunnel wall behind them disintegrated, partially sealing the passage and pelting them with rubble. The water pipe burst, showering them. Then came the heat that seemed to last forever.
Jarod suspected he had lost consciousness sometime during the ordeal; he remembered the surreal silence afterward. He realized they were lying in a shallow pool and the water flow was slowing. Jarod heard Ethan moaning but Parker was silent. His heart stopped as he looked at her. The majority of Parker's body was submerged in the puddle; her face at it's edge. He gently turned her over and checked for a pulse; it was strong. She moaned, all things considered, a good sign.
Jarod turned his attention to Ethan. His brother was trying to move from under a wood beam that had fallen over his shoulder. Jarod got to his feet, checking bones and joints as he rose. Nothing broken; everything bruised. Jarod lifted the beam enough for Ethan to slide from under it. Ethan screamed. Jarod dropped to his knees to examine Ethan's shoulder and arm. He held them oddly, and blisters were forming on his face. Jarod was torn between getting Ethan away before anyone came, and staying with Parker. He heard yelling at a distance. The authorities could not have responded that quickly; it had to be The Centre. Jarod managed to get Ethan to his feet and they struggled away.
Now Ethan was hospitalized under a false name. He had a fractured shoulder, a concussion, and second-degree burns on his face and hand. Jarod had crashed and set fire to his car as a cover for Ethan's injuries. He refused treatment for his own, allowing only a bit of ointment on the back of his neck and hands when a concerned nurse insisted. Jarod refused to leave Ethan. He would not be late to save his family again. Jarod put the time to use checking the new government files he'd found before this fiasco started. He wanted to check for information on Mr. Lyle.
Lyle was drowning. He struggled to the surface but the water washed over him. Washed. A vision of Raines washing someone's feet, a woman he could not see, flashed through his mind. Raines turned to him and smiled. Lyle heard him say, "Wash away your sins with the water of Salvation." Lyle wanted to scream "You're dead!" but his mouth filled with water. Mr. Parker's voice said, "If it gets deep enough it'll drown you." Water under the bridge. Something ahead... Lyle searched for a hold as the water swept him on but there was nothing to hold to. Salvation would never be his. He looked up at the bridge as he passed beneath, and saw his mother and Ethan watching him. Catherine put out her hand; Lyle reached for it but she was too far away. Catherine withdrew her hand. Water clouded his vision and when he blinked Catherine became his sister. Miss Parker turned away from him and embraced Ethan.
As the torrent pulled him under, Lyle heard a baby crying. He knew that cry. He surfaced. He could hear his son but not see him. Desperate, he grabbed at a tree root and hauled himself out of the river. He saw his father on the far bank, carrying the baby. His son reached for him. He heard his father's voice over the rushing water, "...it's for a cause bigger than both of us ... I don't expect you to understand, but in the end it does all add up." Mr. Parker held up the baby with both hands and dropped him into the river. As the writhing child hit the water Lyle looked at his father's face, and saw himself. He screamed, "No...!" and dove into the river. He almost caught the baby's hand but they were swept apart. Somehow, he found him again and grabbed him, but he knew his son was lifeless in his arms. He held him to his heart and allowed the water to take them into the darkness.
Lyle woke coughing and gagging. He was lying on his own couch, soaked with sweat. Lyle scrubbed at his face then reached for the beeping cellular phone that had rescued him from his nightmare.
Jarod glanced at his sleeping brother. Ethan was doing well and would be discharged in a day or so. He looked back to the screen of his laptop, on the table in front of him. He had discovered something that made him sick beyond belief. He stared at the information till his eyes burned, not really seeing anything anymore. Blinking to focus, he realized that he cried silent tears, tears for the innocent victims who could not defend themselves, not then and some never again. He had to tell Miss Parker about the monster that was her twin brother. He pulled out his cellular phone.
***
Miss Parker came through the ordeal with singed hair, a mild concussion, bruises, and a bad attitude. She was annoyed at Jarod for leaving her unconscious and soaked while he ran off. She was almost frantic with worry about Ethan... and him. Now she was trapped at home and Broots refused to feed her information on anything. She had coerced the Centre doctor into allowing her to return to work tomorrow. She would get updated then or someone would be sorry.
The phone rang. Parker grabbed it, glad for any break in the boredom, "What?"
"Miss Parker, I'm sorry to disturb you."
Jarod apologetic? Something was wrong. "It never stopped you before." Fear crept into her voice, "Is Ethan dead?"
"No, he was injured but our brother will survive. I'm calling about your other brothers."
"Lyle and the baby? What about them?"
"The baby is fine but you have to get him away from Mr. Lyle."
"Why the sudden concern for the baby. You've never shown more interest in him than his father."
"I can't tell you over the phone. Check your secure email when you get back to work. I'll leave you more information than you want to know. More than I want to tell you..."
"More than you want to tell me? Jarod, you have dug up all my family's dirty secrets. What could you not want to tell me?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Parker, just read. I have to go, this line is not secure." Jarod cut the connection.
"Jarod? Jarod!" Miss Parker slammed down the receiver. Damn him. Parker groaned her way out of bed and into clothes. If the answer was at The Centre then that's where she needed to be.
Lyle picked the cellular up from where it lay on his jacket, draped across the back of the couch.
"Yes?" Better to keep his side of the conversation short until he was sure of the caller and his voice.
"Lyle? What the hell happened today?"
"Cyrus. Glad you could finally return my call."
"You are not my only operative, Lyle."
"No? I thought I was you only project, aside from Corinna of course, just like I thought I was Raines'. Unfortunately my mother and Ethan both preceded me."
"Lyle."
"Back to the point, Emily survived her little accident. Her brother came to the rescue and saved her from the evil twin. It appears that she is safe with her family. So is Jarod's latest fling, a woman by the name of Zoe."
"Zoe?"
"She's of no particular importance at the moment. I had her and the good Major took her back. They ran away together, probably off to see the wizard or the clone."
"The Major is back in the picture?"
"Not at the moment, at least I hope not, that's all I need right now," Lyle rubbed at his face distractedly.
"And your sister?"
"She found out about Catherine's use as an incubator for our Father's little project, or more correctly our brother, Ethan. I'm sure she wishes our family tree had a lot fewer branches."
"Have you tracked Ethan?"
Lyle laughed shortly, "Heard from the DC Metro lately?"
"The Centre was behind that?" Cyrus was surprised but not shocked. "There are at least five terrorist groups claiming responsibility for the explosion."
"Doesn't matter. One of them would have taken the blame anyway. It was a
failed operation, missed the target, so we won't get paid."
"Care to tell me the real target? Or should I guess, the hotel at Freedom
Station?"
"Good guessing; that's why you get paid the big bucks."
"Your excellent mood has a better reason than loss of payment. They haven't found any bodies."
"I don't think they will. Parker was there and she survived. She's not badly injured in case you care."
Cyrus did care, but decided not to feed Lyle's bad mood. "She didn't set the bomb. I assume it was Ethan. Where is he?"
"I don't know, missing along with his half-brother. Jarod to the rescue again. He whisked Ethan safely away from The Centre's clutches. I'm sure he'll gather Emily onto his white charger and join good old Dad at the family castle."
"It might not be a bad thing if Jarod is preoccupied. He may stay out of Centre business." Cyrus knew that sentence was a mistake the second he uttered it.
"A, Jarod is never too busy to put his nose in Centre business. B, Ethan is my brother too. And C, I have a slightly bruised sister who just found and lost a brother, all in one day. She's already told me to stay the hell away from the baby; this will make her worse."
"You've handled her before. How will all this affect the project?"
"Oh the project is moving along swimmingly" Lyle smiled as he pulled at the front of his sweat-soaked shirt. Swimming, just like in the dream. Now if he just didn't have to sacrifice his son for the greater good. "I am back in my father's good graces and I expect to have the power to go with it. Oh, and by the way, Raines is dead."
"You?"
"No, no murders today. There's always tomorrow though."
Cyrus sighed silently. One of these days Lyle was liable to climb a clock tower with a semiautomatic and a good scope. He wondered how far down the victim list his name would be. "Lyle, you know the next steps in our plan. If you need any help, contact Corinna or myself," he paused, "and I'm glad your sister is all right."
"Yes, of course, thanks."
Cyrus cut the connection; Lyle followed suite. He could not tell Cyrus that he had added a step to their plan, a small one involving a small boy. Lyle got up and headed for the shower. He needed to change and get moving. Miss Parker was due back at The Centre tomorrow. The kidnapping had to happen tonight.
***
The tunnel was probably the dirtiest in all of the Centre and Lyle had to fight feelings of revulsion and disgust as he made his way through the maze. The air was stale, and cobwebs that were as thick as cotton impeded him. The fine dust that made a cloud that, as he maneuvered his way to the control box, tickled his nostril hairs, making him sneeze and cough, harshly.
He wanted a safe nest in which to raise his son, he thought, as his hands forced back the panel door on the control box. He leaned back, momentarily, until his shoulders touched the wall, closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath of the dry, musty air and let his thoughts wander. He, his son and perhaps his sister and brother. . . .what a dream.
Crackle---he swung around. A noise in the tunnel. Looking around there was no place to hide. His heart beat rapidly against his ribcage. Still alone. Turning back to the task at hand, he pulled out a small palm-sized computer unit, attached it to the wiring inside and turned it on. The only sounds to be heard were the soft whirrs of the computer system at work.
Within moments, the unit began to flash, and the numbers on the control panel recalibrated themselves to those he had programmed in their stead. He resisted the urge to pat himself on the back, mostly because this was the first stage of getting his son out of this hellhole, and there was still a great deal to be done.
She'd been in a bad mood all day, until Jarod's phone call. Now she had a reason to be here, and for the first time since the explosion, Parker felt a smile break out on her face--any chance to give Lyle a bad moment. Knowing Jarod this had to be worth all the pain that she endured just to get here. There was a certain beauty in imaging Lyle's simpering face once she relegated him to the position of caretaker of the Centre's refuse department. She lowered herself into the black leather chair, stabbed at her computer's activation button with a manicured finger, and impatiently waited for her mail screen to open. Scrolling quickly through the garbage that had accumulated in her absence, she found what had motivated her out of a warm bed at this ungodly hour. Until she knew what Jarod had unearthed regarding her demented twin, Sydney and Broots would remain in the dark. They were on a need to know basis, so when they needed to know, she'd tell them.
The Centre's silence was disrupted by the shrill of its' smoke alarms and within seconds of the clamor, the sprinkler system engaged itself. For those few moments, when water sprinkled down, most of the night-shift staff were to stunned to react.
Even though she was still bruised, battered and stiff from her recent encounter with an apron of concrete, her first thoughts were for her baby brother in the nursery located just down the hallway, and not for the email on the computer that literally went kaput the minute water cascaded down, frying the insides. Jarod's email would have to wait. Literally, flying out of her office, she navigated the long, curving corridor and abruptly stopped at the nursery doors. The doors were open; she could see there was no sign of water or smoke inside. She did however, fairly vibrate with outrage as she tried to find the proper words to express her fury and sense of betrayal at seeing him standing there comforting the baby. The emotions all came roiling to the surface. She reached behind her back, her fingers wrapping around the butt of her gun that she kept tucked there.
"I told you to stay away from the baby, Lyle," Parker said, her voice strong and clear, her gun in hand," Now put him down."
"Damn," he muttered under his breath, his mind quickly working through his timetable, if she didn't back down, in say ten minutes, then he'd have to hurt her. Not something that he really wanted to do, but he was going to win this one. For once in his life, he was going to accomplish his goal. His best course of action now was to take her with him. He had to pique her interest in why.
Lyle turned slowly, lowering the baby from his shoulder to rest in the crook of his left arm. The baby boy, was pale-skinned, and wide-eyed with tear tracks that had dried on his cheeks. Lyle was staring at her, and he wasn't smiling. It was the first time she'd ever seen him when he wasn't smiling. It froze the marrow in her bones.
"Put the baby down," she said. "Gently. Do it now."
Lyle stared at her.
"Do it, Lyle."
Very slowly, he began to crack a smile. He started to walk toward her, his right hand dipping into his jacket and coming out with his own gun.
"Going to shoot me, sis>" Lyle said softly. "Might hurt baby brother, here."
Parker released the safety of her Smith & Wesson with a flick of her thumb, readjusting her arm.
"Down! I mean it Lyle!" The baby whimpered.
"No!" It was barely a whisper. "You're scaring him."
He was close now, still holding the little boy in the crook of his left arm. He brought his gun up level with her forehead, cocking it slowly.
She was staring right at him, he wasn't more than two feet away, and she knew what would happen next. There was only one thing to do. Take him out, her mind screamed, but she couldn't risk endangering the baby. She'd be damned if she was going to let him grow up surrounded by monsters. She had promised his mother that her son would survive.
"Drop the gun, Parker. Then we are going to walk out of here. The three of us. There's a car with the keys already in the ignition, waiting in the parking lot. We're going for a drive." He started to jostle the baby gently, his gun still pointed directly at her forehead.
"This was your idea," she cocked her head toward the hallway, where the sprinklers were still spraying water, "why?"
"Ingenious, if not diabolical, wasn't it? Now stop stalling for backup, it won't work. I programmed the computer to simulate a fire on SL-16, and that, my dear sister, is on the other side of the Centre, so, most if not all of the staff are trying to figure out where. I am leaving and with Thane, so if you want answers, do yourself a favor, drop the god-damn gun and move."
Something brushed against her temple. She flinched and looked. The barrel of Lyle's gun. Sloppy, she chided herself, extremely foolish on her part. She had kept her eyes on the baby, who seemed content in his arms, and not on Lyle.
"Seconds matter, decide now!"
She turned to look her brother in the eyes as she slowly released the trigger of her gun, she knew this was a mistake on her part, but this wasn't typical Lyle behavior. Why wasn't she dead? Why did he want to take the baby? Slowly, she lowered her arm, the gun clattering to the floor.
"That's a good sister, now move."
Everything was different, the fight was different, Parker thought as the three of them made their way out to the car that Lyle had waiting in the Centre's parking lot. Lyle paused, momentarily as they reached the black sedan, the night sky starting to lighten with the dawning of a new day.
"Open the door, Parker. Now get in," he waved his gun at her, slightly. He watched as she slid in the driver's side of the car, past the steering wheel and stopped next to the infant carrier he had seat-belted to the front passenger side.
"Now, I'm going to sit and then hand you the baby, put him in the infant seat. Don't think of trying to play heroine, leave that for those better suited to the title," he said as he slid behind the wheel and then handed her the infant. Lyle slammed the door to the sedan and started the engine as Parker strapped the little boy into the seat next to her. She didn't like being caged in the front seat with Lyle mere inches from her. It not only reminded her of when they were locked in the tractor-trailer box but it also gave her a rather claustrophobic feeling; so she turned her attention to the little boy in the car seat instead.
Stony silence ruled the day until Lyle turned briefly to check on his passengers. Parker was staring out the front window, his son, oblivious to all this, was busy sucking his fist. A sure sign that he would want his breakfast, and soon, Lyle thought.
"Threats, theft, murder, and now kidnapping -- in the real world, Lyle, these are enough to condemn a man to prison or death," she said softly, her eyes still staring straight out the window.
"But in the Centre, Parker, they're a rite of passage," he replied, the corners of his lips turning upwards, "your point?"
It was a start, he thought to himself, as he felt his smile grow, and she had initiated it.
"Back there. . ." she started then stopped.
"Yes?" he glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the road.
"You said something, that has me a bit puzzled."
"And that would be?"
"You called our brother, Thane," she took her eyes off the road and looked at the man seated next to her, looked at him hard.
"He's a baby and should have a name, his own little identity. Master Parker is not a name. It's a label, impersonal to say the least, like Mr. Lyle or Mr. Parker."
Or Miss Parker, she thought, trying to figure out who this person in the car sitting next to her was. His reaction to her question had completely disarmed her. It was only the timbre of his voice that revealed that it was the same person, yet something about him had changed.
"You're speeding, you know. Nine miles over the speed limit," changing the subject.
"Don't see any cops, do you?" he said. "Since when have you been a stickler for the traffic laws, sis? I've seen you leave the cops in the dust."
"Since there's a baby in the car, Lyle," she replied, "so lets keep it under the speed limit, okay."
"Fine." He smiled and lifted his foot from the accelerator and carefully slowed down. "Get some rest, Parker, we have a long drive."
The last of the early morning mist vanished as the sun broke the horizon line. The landscape was covered with the green foliage of lush trees, the trill of birds echoed through the air and a baby's cry pierced it.
"He's hungry," Lyle said, softly. "There's a bottle in the bag in the back. You don't mind feeding him, do you?"
"No, I don't mind," she said softly, as she shifted around to reach the bag in the back of the car.
"Only a couple of hours to go," he said as he watched his sister feed his son.
The car turned up the long, curved pathway in the highlands adjacent to Dream Lake, and the sight literally took Parker's breath away. A sienna brown log cabin loomed out the front window like a photograph in one of those coffee table books. The cabin was surrounded by a copse of evergreens, a forest painted in variegated shades of springtime green, azaleas and rhododendrons bloomed across the front lawn, and were edged by platycodon and dogwood and a path wrapped around the house leading to the lake.
"Why are you . . . .?"
"Taking matters in to my own hands," he replied as the car stopped and Lyle shut off the engine. He exited the car and walked around the front, opening the passenger side door, "You really want to know?"
She watched as he unlatched the seat belt that restrained the infant seat that held their baby brother; then removed it from the car, talking to the infant as he did so.
"Yes," she replied, perplexed by his actions.
"Good, since, there's no where for you to go," his voice echoed back to her, as he entered the front door of the cabin with his son.
It was Parker's shriek that caused Lyle to react instinctively as he sprinted to his fallen sister's side.
"What happen?" he asked as he noticed that her left ankle was twisted at a rather odd angle under her.
"I slipped. You could have told me that the pathway was damp from the morning dew. Now help me up."
Sydney and Broots were in the office, grimly surveying the water damage caused from the fire sprinklers, when the phone rang.
"This is Sydney," the voice was fluid.
"Sydney?" the voice on the other end said, somewhat shocked, "Where's Miss Parker? I've tried her at home, and now you're answering her phone. What's going on?"
"Jarod, when's the last time you spoke to her?" he closed his eyes, hoping that the worst was behind them. No such luck.
"Early this morning," he replied," I sent her information on Lyle via secured email. Why?"
Renwal Wing is a group of authors :Niceole, Trish, Shannon, Paula and Nicolette.
The Road Taken
part 2
by Renewal Wing
It was the incessant beep beep of the alarm that woke her from her slumber. When she glanced at the red digital numbers, she cursed. The jog through the park had exhausted her, something she had prayed for after last night's meeting with Lyle, however, the morning seemed to have gotten away from her. Corinna pushed back the forest green bed sheets and stretched her lithe, slim body. Then rising slowly out of her bed, she figured it was time to face the day and its problems.
She headed into the kitchen, her body calling for a hot cup of coffee to get her moving. The aroma of roasted coffee hung in the air as she entered the kitchen's doorway. Well, at least the coffee machine was working. Perhaps today would be a good day. As she reached for the coffee mug, which held a double cup -- a gift from Lyle -- a smile started to form. She poured the hot black liquid nearly to the brim and inhaled deeply, then padded over toward the phone to check her messages. The small red light on the answering machine just stared back at her, unblinking.
Lyle had probably left for the Centre and another day in hell, at least as far as he was concerned. What he needed was some downtime. She would talk to Cyrus and arrange it. A few days to gather his wits - her cabin at Dream Lake seemed to be calling.
Her train of thought was interrupted by the shrill of her telephone. Reaching for the receiver, she pulled it off the cradle, expectantly.
"Lyle?"
"No, Corinna, it's Melody. Cyrus wishes to speak with you."
"Put him on," she replied, a sense of foreboding hitting her.
"Good morning, Corinna. You are a hard woman to track down," he said lightheartedly, and yet a sense of urgency was laced within.
"You could have paged me."
"I did, twice. You ought to check your pager."
Damn, she thought, in the whirlwind of last night's turmoil with Lyle, she had forgotten to check her pager when she had gotten in from her run. She had headed into the shower and then crawled into bed, sleep had conquered her almost immediately.
"My fault, Cyrus. Lyle had an identity crisis last night. I warned you, even recommended six months forced sick leave with scheduled visits to the Agency shrink. He managed to convince you and the shrink he was fine. Now he goes along the dark road, whence they say no one returns."
"I didn't know you read Odes, Corinna?" Cyrus responded dryly.
"Devin recommended it to me." she said," It's the truth, Cyrus. He's so tightly wound...he's going to snap again. I just hope that no one dies, this time. He still has vivid nightmares regarding the deaths of the people he killed at the Centre's Hartford office."
"That's one of the reasons behind the call. He's on his way to the house for a meeting. You too. I'll arrive around 6:00. I want to see him, talk to him before we step this operation up a notch. The President himself wants this to continue on the course it's on."
"Damn it, Cyrus! He doesn't need anymore bullshit from the agency. He could use a break. Some downtime."
"I understand, Rinna, I do, but..." he said her name softly, "Jarod's interference, it screwed up everything. I need to know that this isn't going to affect him. He needs to see this mission through to the end. The agency cannot have another fiasco like Vegas. Once I have his reassurance, then a few days off won't hurt."
"My, aren't you generous, Cyrus?" Her voice was sharp as she spoke.
"Six o'clock, Corinna."
"I'll be there. I just hope that you know what you are doing." She returned the phone to its cradle and headed for the bathroom.
Cyrus stared at the phone. He gathered his wits, cleared his throat and waited for Melody to poke her head into the office.
"How long before we land?" he asked, his hand reaching for the phone.
"About two hours, sir."
Cyrus picked up for the phone and dialed. He listened to the rings. The call was picked up in the third ring, as usual.
"It's Carter, here. Put me through to Channing, Teresa."
"Of course, Mr. Carter. One moment."
"Hello, Cy." The voice had quietness to it, but one could detect an edge of authority, too.
"Tucker, I need to know where Jarod is?"
"You could say hello first, Cyrus. I am still your superior." Her laugh echoed over the line, clear as crystal. "Lyle in rough shape?"
"Son of a bitch. You have got to stop doing that," he responded. "It's unnatural."
"Cyrus, you only inquire about Jarod's whereabouts when he's messed something up regarding Lyle and Corinna. And with the headlines screaming about Thon's death, I figured it would only be a matter of time before you called. You need him out of the way for a while, I take it?"
"That's why you're the boss, Tucker."
"Can it, Cy, just keep me informed regarding the Centre and Lyle. You know that you have carte blanche regarding this mission, but if Lyle goes off half-cocked again, he's finished, done. Nothing will save him. Understand?"
"Loud and clear, Tucker."
"As for the genius, there's always some individual that needs help somewhere. Will do what's necessary on this end regarding him."
Lyle pulled the car into the driveway and exited the vehicle, taking his briefcase into the house. He was the first one to arrive. Typical. Cyrus had been in the air when he called to inform him of the meeting here. Corinna was probably on her way. Stuart had told him this morning that she'd been out late running. So he had gotten to her again. He didn't mean to, but she understood him as well as Che Ling had.
Che Ling, he hadn't thought about her in such a long time, but something about Kim Che remind him of her. Entering the house, he made his way to the living room, and found himself sinking into the armchair. He snapped open his briefcase and was removing some of the unfinished paperwork from earlier this morning when his eyes caught sight of a photograph buried underneath the folders.
Taking hold of the photo, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Che Ling. A beautiful woman -- delicate, small and exquisite. Her face looked as though it had been carved of the finest ivory, her eyes were dark onyx, and her scent - lotus flowers. She'd been brilliant, speaking English, French, Japanese and, of course, Chinese. Her knowledge of world affairs put his to shame.
Lyle wondered just how much Cyrus had known about their relationship. That he had wanted to marry her had nearly bowled him over. That she reciprocated the feelings astounded him. For once something good came to him.
When he had asked her to be his wife, she tried to make light of the situation, but both realized how serious that moment had been for them. They talked about everything at great length -- what it meant to their lives, their careers and about their future. Then his world crashed and burned, and it was the truth regarding his parentage that caused the fiery inferno. He became obsessed, out of control, and when he returned to his senses, things would never be the same again.
Innocent people had lost their lives and his career with the agency almost hit rock bottom, but Corinna spoke up for him. The worst part was that the Vegas operation crumbled because of his temporary insanity and his beloved was lost to him.
He had so wanted to leave Che Ling out of Centre affairs, but leave it to Jarod. Che Ling's memory was besmirched and his twisted. The truth was buried and replaced with a warped version to fit his persona. He should have been used to being viewed as a killer by then, but somehow, seeing that identity of him burning in Parker's eyes...that had been so much worse than anything he'd ever seen before.
Tucker Channing leaned her head back in the leather chair, a small flicker of a smile on her features. She had been expecting Cyrus's call the moment that Teresa had brought the faxed article from the AP into her office. Thon's demise was naturally a blow to the agency, but one they could recover from.
She had warned Cyrus that Jarod had been keeping rather close tabs on Mr. Lyle, and now her help was needed. She had been in this business as long as Cyrus, in fact the two of them had been recruited their second year of college, in very much the same fashion as he had recruited Lyle and Corinna. Lyle had been a coup for Cyrus and the Agency. If it hadn't been for Claire's death, fifteen years ago, it would be Cyrus sitting in this chair and not her.
Reaching for the telephone, she quickly dialed the number that she needed and waited impatiently.
"Hello," the male voice answered on the other end.
"Hello, A?"
"Boss Lady, good to hear from you. How are you this fine day?"
"If I were in a good mood, I wouldn't be calling A. You know that. Where's our boy?"
"J-man's roaming around the Grand Canyon. Why?"
"He involved in anything at the moment, A?"
"Nah, just seems to be relaxing. Anything I can do for you, Boss Lady?
"Yes, there is, A. I need to keep him out of Agency, as well as Centre affairs for a while. He walked in on a rather sensitive case and well, suffice it to say, the whole operation went south. Anything happening that might get his attention?"
"Funny that you should call, there's a young woman that was just found in the park high as a kite on heroin. Seems that she was suppose to show up in court regarding custody of her son. Instead she nose-dived into a little bag of white powder. Right now she's in rehab at Vista House."
"And you think that might interest our boy, how?"
"Name's Jill Arnold, Boss Lady. I do my homework. Her dad used to work at the Centre. He supposedly died in a drowning accident about twenty years ago. I figure that J-man will check it out."
"Fine, you do what you have to do to interest him in this Jill Arnold, and you stay out of it this time, but keep me informed. You do understand, don't you?"
"Yes, Boss Lady. Get J-man's focus off the Centre for a while."
"Thanks, A. Have a good day, and give Dog a hello from me."
"We'll do, Boss Lady. I'll call you only if it doesn't work out."
Tucker terminated the phone call and knew that she didn't have to worry. Her operative may look like the biggest fool in the whole world, but the saying looks can be deceiving certainly rang true with him. If anyone could get Jarod's attention away from the Centre, it was Argyle. She'd let Cyrus know that Jarod was in Arizona and that her operative had the situation under control, for the time being.
Corinna glanced at the dashboard clock. 4:00. She had made better time than she thought, yet she hated these emergency meetings. She had been trying to reach Lyle's cell phone for the last thirty minutes and got the damned answering service. He was probably at the house. If there was one foible about Lyle, it was his concept regarding punctuality - never late, not after the deaths of Cindy and Sue. He never forgave himself for that. He'd been ten minutes late that night. He always believed that if he had been on time, he could have prevented the tragedy. She wondered what woul
d have happened if he had prevented the ex-boyfriend from killing the girls, for it was their deaths that became an important building block in establishing "Mr. Lyle's" dossier.
She turned the blue Lexus on to the tree-lined street. The neighborhood was peacefully quiet. A few families were exiting their homes, some children were being ushered into the front doors for dinner, and a few dogs barked at the cars that cruised the street.
She pulled the car into the driveway and parked it next to Lyle's. Her hunch had been right on the money, already here. Exiting the car, she singled out the key to the front door and entered the house. The aroma of food permeated the house, and her stomach rumbled with the first pangs of hunger.
"Lyle?"
"In the kitchen, Rinna," he called out, so she made her way through the living room and caught sight of his briefcase on the floor. She deposited her blazer across the back of the armchair before entering the kitchen, pushing up the sleeves of her navy silk blouse, and offered to help by setting the table.
"What smells so good?" she said, as she looked at the man that had been so depressed only last night.
"Your favorite, smoked tomato and shiitake mushroom risotto. So, I hope you're hungry," he turned and grinned.
"Famished. You realize that Cyrus hates vegetarian."
"I made him risotto with prosciutto." He turned back to his work, chuckling.
"You seem to be in a better mood." Corinna walked to the cupboard that housed the dishes and took out three plates, then pulled open the drawer below removing the necessary silverware.
"Cooking is a wonderful way to relax, and with Cyrus on his way to evaluate my mental stability after this debacle with Thon, I figured the easiest way to bribe my partner was through her stomach. I have a feeling that Cyrus is pretty upset over this and that my neck is on the line. Then again, when hasn't it been? Since this started, something or someone always seem to screw it up."
"You don't need to bribe me Lyle, but you do need to talk about things more often. You know that a couple of sessions with the Agency shrink won't hurt. Helps clear the head. Especially after being kidnapped by Jarod this time." She watched his shoulders tighten at the mention of the pretender's name.
"You know what would clear my head, a few days away at Dream Lake."
"Well, the cabin's always available. You know that."
It was the roar of an engine that halted the conversation from the two in the kitchen. Corinna finished setting the table, while Lyle removed three crystal long-stemmed glasses from the overhead rack, along with the chilled bottle of wine from the fridge. They were in their seats when Cyrus appeared in the doorway.
"Good, you're both here. Let's get down to business."
He took his seat across from his two agents, his eyes never leaving Lyle'
s.
"I can not believe he said what he said." Lyle paced, frustrated, in front of the table. "He can't be serious about this!"
"Calm down please." Corinna started to move toward him, but stopped.
"Calm down? Corinna, didn't you understand what he said?" Lyle's hand pointed towards Cyrus' now vacant seat. "He expects me to...oh no, I can't even think about this --" he interrupted himself, shaking his head in misery.
Not knowing what to do, Corinna picked up her glass of wine and took a small sip of the now warm liquid. He had every right to be upset. Of all of them, he had made the biggest sacrifices and all they did was ask more. The prospect of having a family afterwards had kept him up and going - a sister and a son who both loved him. Now he was looking at the ashes of his dreams, of his life.
Almost if he had read her thoughts he turned on his heels and looked her in the eyes. "Call me Phoenix."
With this he was gone.
***
"What do you want to do?" Sydney asked in a low, calm voice, closely observing the young woman in front of him. She reminded him of a tiger worried about one of her cubs. During the last thirty minutes she had developed and dismissed more plans to keep Lyle away from her baby brother than he would have believed possible. He had not seen her so upset since, well, since longer than he cared to remember.
A frustrated expression washed over Miss Parker's face, and she leaned over Sydney's desk. "If I had the slightest idea how to keep that psycho's slimy fingers off the baby, would I be here asking you?" she replied in an accusing tone. She hated feeling weak. Even before she walked into the doctor's office she had been sure that he had no solution; all she needed was to talk to somebody who would listen so she could feel safe to reveal her feelings.
This was a kind of private game -- she pretended not to need him and he pretended not to know. This silent agreement gave her the security she needed. The knowledge that she did not fool him made it easier for her to keep up her facade. He read between the lines. He always had been able to do that.
Sydney leaned back into his chair, turning a pencil in his hands whilehe kept eye contact with his colleague. After she lost Thomas he had missed the fire in her eyes; the man's death had killed a part of her as well. She had looked like the little girl that lost her mother. Sydney had feared they finally succeed in breaking her, but now he could see the fire burning again. She was ready to fight. She was alive. Unconsciously, he started to smile.
"What is so funny, Dr Frankenstein?" Miss Parker asked in a harsh tone, but his smile was so warm and infectious that she had a hard time notsmiling back.
Sydney brought his face back under control in a split-second "Sorry, I was just thinking," he replied.
"Well, while you are deep in pleasant thoughts, I will do somethinguseful." Miss Parker pushed herself away from Sydney's desk and walkedtoward the door.
"What do you intend to do?" Sydney asked, alarmed.
"Don't worry, Mom," she answered without looking back, "I just want to make sure Lyle does not touch my brother again."
She hesitated a second, then turned around and gave him one of her rare real smiles. It made him want to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be all right.
"And it is time for my little brother's bottle."
Before Sydney could react, the doors closed behind her. Leaning further back, he closed his eyes and brought her smiling face to his inner eye. She was more like her mother than she ever dared to hope. She had the same spirit, but one advantage -- unlike her mother she was trained to survive.
Jarod paced in his small lair; he was irritated. Irritated? That was the understatement of the year. He was used to knowing the way another person thought, but he was failing with Lyle. He had failed with Miss Parker at times as well, but that never really bothered him, maybe because he was used to it. She had fooled him more than once when they where children, and that made it fun to play with her.
Since he had escaped they played a very adult version of the hide and seek they once played in the Centre's dark tunnels. More than once she had done things that had surprised him, but this made things interesting. Sending her a new hint was like playing with fire. One day she might figure things out too soon, and he would get burned.
Well, Jarod thought with huge smile, she would not do so as long she worked with Sydney and Broots. She always relied too much on them instead of trusting her instinct and judgment. On the other hand, he was never sure what she was really doing or thinking. Sometimes he was not sure if he was still free because of himself, or just because....
He shook his head vehemently. This was a trail of thought he had no time to follow. Later maybe, much later. It could mean finding out things he was not sure he really wanted to know; it also required dealing with his feelings and memories, something he was not ready to do. Instead, he turned his attention back to the problem of Mr. Lyle.
Jarod had told Parker that somebody had to stop Lyle before it was too late. Since then he had kept a close eye on him, but Lyle was smart. He had been able to escape his observation several times. Damn! Argyle had chosen just the wrong moment to ask him to save a family on the brink of loosing everything. The pretend had taken only two days but in the mean time, he had lost track of Lyle again. That made him worry.
Every shred of information he uncovered about his nemesis made him more concerned for the people in Blue Cove he cared about, and yes, though he didn't want to let his thoughts wander back there, that list included Miss Parker. If Lyle could do the things to strangers that he did, people who had done nothing to him, what would he do to Sydney or Miss Parker if they got in his way once to often?
Now in the middle of one of the most tense and important times at the Centre in recent history, Lyle seemed to have dropped off the radar. The reappearance of Edna Raines had been both unexpected and a little frightening for Jarod. He knew that she could be the key to unlocking the secrets of the Centre, but he couldn't fight off the sense that whatever it was Edna wanted to tell Miss Parker would unlock a Pandora's box from which none of them might escape.
It was time for him to pay Edna a visit. He'd tracked her down to a halfway house in Harlem, and before he sent Miss Parker down the path to find her, he wanted to try and get the woman to open up to him. Once he got settled again, he would search the new government files he'd hacked into recently and see if there was any information there on his "friend" Mr. Lyle.
****
The gentle waves from the lake reached shore and worked to calm Lyle a bit, and he realized that the days he'd spent here had been good for him, even they hadn't solved his problems. God, how could Cyrus expect him to do this? It was simply not possible; he would loose everything. None of his sacrifices would have done any good; nothing would bring him a little peace. No, this would destroy it all. If his sister ever got even a piece of this information, he was sure the next thing he would get from her was a bullet in his head.
Knowing Jarod, it would not take him long to "discover" this, and there was no way he would not tell her about it. Damn it, life was complicated enough; with Jarod around it was even harder. Jarod was so smug, he was the knight in the shining amour and all the others were stupid little kids, waiting for him to tell them the truth. Damn him for all those games he had played with his sister. He could break every bone in Jarod's body...helping her, sure, helping her.
The short period of time Jarod had been back in the Centre and under Lyle's control had been a relief of sorts. Jarod was unable to complicate the CIA's plans, and Lyle had an excuse to get rid of some of his hard feelings for the Pretender. It shamed him to admit it, even to himself, but God, he had enjoyed torturing Jarod. He shook his head and the memory away.
He turned to Corinna's lovely cabin behind him. Here it was perfect, a perfect space, and a place out of time and reality. Looking around, Lyle realized there was only one possibility. He needed to get his sonand his sister before he lost them both forever. It would not be easy, that was sure, but the only chance he had was to reach them before Jarod could reach his sister and tell the latest dark secret he found. If he were too late he would never have a chance to come close enough to get them.
While driving back to Blue Cove, a plan formed in Lyle's mind. Thoughts of kidnapping his own son were unpleasant, but he knew as soon as he had the baby in his arms his sister would follow like a lamb. He could only hope she would give him time to explain everything, and even more that she would believe him. No matter what, his life was over.
It had all begun to unravel in the most unexpected manner a few days ago. Mr. Parker had summoned him - he couldn't manage to think of him as his father anymore, not since what had happened with Brigitte and the baby - and they'd discussed what seemed to Lyle to be fairly unimportant matters. Then the Chairman had stood up and started pacing behind his desk.
"You know, son, there are a lot of things I would like to accomplish here, plans I've made I'd like to set in motion."
"Dad," he had nearly choked on the word, but managed to get it out without showing his revulsion, "you know that I will do anything to help you."
Mr. Parker had stopped walking then, stopping so he could stare Lyle in the eye.
"And what makes you think I'd trust you with something so important?"
The statement had taken Lyle aback. After everything he had done to prove himself to this man, including setting his own sister up for failure, endangering her life time and time again, still this man could question his loyalty?
"Dad, I know that things haven't always gone as we've planned..."
"As we've planned? You mean that you've consistently failed me. I've come to expect that from your - from others around here, but I expect better from my son. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Lyle opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. Parker turned his back, and the younger man had been around the Centre long enough to know a dismissal when he saw one. Swallowing his pride, Lyle turned and exited the room and headed toward his own office.
On the way, he'd passed by his sister's office, and it was one of those rare occasions where the door stood open. He glanced inside and he saw Parker at her desk, Broots and Sydney flanking her. The three of them were laughing about something, and he saw that smile she reserved for so few people. Someday, he'd thought, someday that smile will be for me.
Lyle knew that he was not a good man. He had enjoyed too many of the tasks given him by both of his masters, and he had taken life without provocation. There had been days when he had almost been too far down the road to turn back. That was when Catherine Parker would come into his thoughts, a picture of her visible in his mind as clearly as if he'd actually seen her once in his lifetime. Could her child really be unsalvageable?
Now, driving down the twisting highway that led home, it seemed that the someday he had dreamed of hung by a tenuous thread, and the only way to secure it was to do the impossible - he had to make Parker trust him.
Damn it, it was his own fault. He'd headed back to the office that day and beeped Cyrus. They met later that day, and he'd told his boss about the scene with Mr. Parker. Cyrus was clearly disappointed that the Centre chairman was so unwilling to trust his operative, and he knew that something was going to have to happen to change things.
Lyle understood the thinking when he stopped being angry. If his father wouldn't trust him, then he had to believe he could control his son. What Lyle hadn't expected was for Cyrus to use something that was tied to the most painful part of his past.
He remembered bitterly the months following Che Ling's disappearance, and the aimless, vengeful fog he had lived in. Then he had found new purpose in his life, and he set out to accomplish two goals. He would save his sister, and he would save the life of the one other person on earth Che Ling had loved.
He'd disappeared again, dropping out of the agency's radar and heading for the streets of Bangkok. That was where his search for redemption had to begin. And his first step was a girl named Li Nam.
A horn blared, ripping Lyle's thoughts back to the present. Startled, he looked up and realized he had drifted across the divider of the roadway. He jerked the wheel, moving back to his own side, his eyes blinking wildly.
Sleep deprivation. He'd suffered from it enough to know the signs, and he knew he shouldn't be driving, but Lyle was a man with a mission, one as strong and driving as those he'd undertaken years ago when the CIA had asked him to return to the Centre.
He reached down and hit the switch on his CD player, and soon the wonderful sounds of Kaiko Matsui filled the Mercedes. The music calmed his nerves, and he used an old meditation trick to focus his thoughts again by concentrating on a particular selection of beats. Corinna had actually taught him the technique, and again he had something to thank her for.
The rest of his drive proved uneventful, and he arrived home shortly after 2:00 a.m. He immediately went upstairs and opened his email. Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned back in his desk chair. The program he'd installed to trace Parker's email showed nothing from Jarod, so for now, he still had time to put his plan in motion, but there was no telling how long that would last. It was time to get to work. A sly smile crossed his face as Lyle realized he had a golden opportunity to gain an extra benefit from his latest scheme - he would make Jarod sorry he had ever made him look bad in his sister's eyes.
Lyle lay back on the cushions of his couch, exhausted. The sleeplessness was definitely beginning to get to him, and he doubted that he could get any shuteye with his ideas about Parker and the baby whirling around in his mind, but he had to try. After half an hour of fighting to keep his eyes shut, he moved to the bedroom, but not before lighting some incense to try and help him relax.
Finally, his mind began to let go of the plans it had to make and the obstacles it had to overcome, and as his eyes drifted closed, Lyle's internal vision filled with an image of a smiling 11-year-old girl with black eyes and a smile that hid all of the horror she had endured in her short lifetime. He held on to that picture as he finally surrendered to sleep. If he could save Li Nam, he could save his own family. He had to.
Two days later, Lyle returned to the Centre. He was ready to begin the most important task of his life, and he could not envision anything that would get in the way. Hell, not even Jarod could ruin things this time as long as he implemented things today.
Then he walked in his office, and he felt his gut drop to the floor.
Mr. Parker was waiting for him. He had a file in his hands marked "INTERPOL - CONFIDENTIAL." Lyle knew what it was without needing to have it opened.
"Son, I think we need to have a talk."
Lyle nodded and closed the door. He moved to his desk, and sat on the edge as Mr. Parker moved closer, throwing the file on the desk.
"I think you know what's inside that, yes?"
"Sir, I am not involved any longer -"
"I should be completely disgusted by what I read in that file. That any child of mine would be involved in - the only reason I'm willing to give you any kind of chance to redeem yourself is because you are my son.
"The fact is, as I told you, I have plans. They begin with a task that I am going to assign to you. Complete it, and you will be given the ultimate prize - control of the Centre, at least, control under a Triumvirate run by me, of course."
The Chairman reached out and picked up a large envelope from the corner of Lyle's desk. Only then did Lyle realize he hadn't noticed it though it had been there all along. His father extended the packet towards him, and Lyle took it in his good hand.
"Read this. It'll get you up to speed. You'll find instructions on your assignment in there as well."
With that, Mr. Parker headed toward the door. Just as his hand reached out to push it open, he turned back to face his son.
"And be sure to take Willie and Covington with you. I want confirmation that the task has been completed. Otherwise, the FBI might just find the man they're looking for - only he might be missing a lot more than a thumb by then, hmm?"
An hour later, Lyle pulled his car over to the side of the road about seven miles away from the Centre. He barely made it out of the car before his stomach lurched and emptied its contents onto the dirt beneath him.
His mother - his poor mother. Lyle closed his eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to break free for the second time in so many weeks. He fought until the moisture dissipated, and he felt he had control again. Mirage - what a horribly ironic and evil name for the project that had robbed Parker of the mother he'd already lost so many years earlier than his sister had. If she found out about this -- Lyle felt his fists clench at the thought. Nothing could destroy Parker like this information could, and he had no choice but to go along with the twisted plot their father had put into play if he had any hope of keeping the CIA off his back long enough to get her and the baby out of the Centre.
And now a new person to find, this Ethan - this child his mother had died for. Damn Raines. Damn him straight to hell for what he'd done to their family.
Breathing deeply, he stood and climbed back into the car, then he reached over and picked up the envelope that held all the damning secrets of his family. He flipped through the pages, forcing his eyes away from the photos of his mother lying dead, her beautiful face torn away by Raines' gun, and he found what he was searching for. 56772 Lexington Ave., Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. That's where his "task" was waiting, a task he had no desire to undertake. The thought of taking another innocent life, even this one - he just didn't know how he was going to do it, and he didn't know how he could avoid it.
He sat there for hours, his mind whirling as he tried to think up a way out of the situation he was now in. Finding none, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.
"Willie, get Covington and meet me at the airfield. We have a job to do."
He hung up and closed his eyes again as he flipped the phone over onto the passenger seat. Then he reached out and gripped the wheel, and he let a few heartfelt words slip from his lips as he started the car.
"Please, Mom, please help me."
Just thinking of his mother made the images from the file photographs flash through his mind again, and Lyle felt a scream rising up inside his throat. Damn them. Damn them all - Mr. Parker, Raines, and even Cyrus. That made Lyle realize he had one other call he had to make before he left to meet Willie. He snatched the phone back up from where it had landed and dialed in another familiar number. After just one ring, Cyrus' strong, low voice responded from the other end of the line.
"Hello?"
"Did you know?"
"Know what, Lyle?"
"Did you know about what they did to my mother? Did you know about Mirage?"
"What the hell are you talking about? Your mother was murdered at the Centre two decades ago, I thought we'd established that."
"Cyrus, if I find out you know about -"
"Watch yourself. You don't have that many favors left with me."
Those words made Lyle stop before he said another word. He had been lied to so many times by so many people, he just didn't know how much more he could take. Still, there was a chance Cyrus hadn't known about this, and Lyle realized it had been foolish to attack him without finding out first.
"Cyrus, I just need to know."
"I told you what I knew." Cyrus felt Lyle evaluating him during the silence that followed his statement. He knew he deserved that scrutiny. It had been him, after all, that had kept the truth of Lyle's parentage a secret for years.
"My mother didn't die in that elevator."
For the next five minutes, Cyrus listened as Lyle recounted to him the sickening story revealed in the file Mr. Parker had so callously handed to the younger man earlier in the day. He also listened as Lyle revealed his assignment to eliminate Emily Russell.
"I know you'll do what's best when it comes to the Russell girl. Call m
e when you get back."
There was a pause, and Lyle was about to hang up when he suddenly heard C
yrus' voice again.
"I didn't know, Lyle, and I'm sorry you do."
Cyrus disconnected the line then and sank deeper into his chair. He'd meant what he said. No child should have to know that his mother had suffered the fate Catherine Parker had. It had been bad enough when Lyle had believed the story of her murder in the Centre by the mysterious dark-suited man who had most probably been William Raines, but this - Raines had truly proven himself to be the most heartless creature Cyrus had ever seen in his 40 some odd years with the CIA. The bastard had whatever was coming to him.
***
Miss Parker was struggling to stay upright as she walked down the hallway that led toward the baby's nursery. Last night had been - what words could she use to describe it? Last night she had dug up her mother's grave. She didn't know what kind of person that made her, only that thinking about it made the bucket of scotch she'd consumed last night slosh around in her stomach. Finally, she thought, the Centre had made her a ghoul just like all the rest of them. And yet, what if she had not done it? She would still be in the dark, still believe that her mother...
She couldn't even bring herself to finish that thought. It was more important to focus in on the why of the grave being empty than the possibilities opened up by its state of disuse.
Slowing, Parker reached the nursery. Normally she would have strolled in and picked the beautiful little boy up in her arms, and on any other day, that would have worked miracles on her disposition, but today she didn't want to touch him. Somehow she felt dirty and she didn't want to be responsible for putting Centre filth on the little boy any more than she wanted Lyle doing it. So today she just stood at the door, looking in as he worked at standing up in his crib, his little fists tight around the railings of his crib.
Parker shook her head, forcing herself to move away from the nursery and complete the journey she'd begun this morning. She was going to find her father, and she was going to get some answers. Instead, she found Lyle. He was sitting behind their father's desk. Seeing him there suddenly made all of her anger rise to the surface
"Well, it's about time you got back, Lyle. So, what's the flavor of the day, little brother, Mail-order Mama's from Malaysia, or Cannibal Quiche from the Kalahari?"
Lyle had looked up when she'd opened the door, and it had torn him away from thoughts of what had happened in Philadelphia earlier this morning. That in itself was reason to be happy to see her, not that he could show it. The flaming arrow she'd shot his way was easy enough for him to deflect, and he pasted on his best Mr. Lyle grin, but it was clear something was bothering her, and he was curious about what it was. He mentioned that their father was gone, and she'd gone for his throat. That's when Lyle smelled the scotch reeking off of her, and it when his stomach twisted into a knot -- what in the world had happened?
Then, the unthinkable happened - she apologized to him. That set Lyle's alarms off at full tilt. Parker never apologized to him.
"Okay, now I know you're sloshed. What's going on, Parker?"
She'd started to tell him. For one moment, Lyle had actually thought that she was going to trust him. She'd begun to explain what was wrong, something about their mother not "being there." Then her eyes caught something on the desk, and she froze up.
"You wouldn't understand anyway."
She stood and walked shakily across the room, her inebriation stopping her from stalking out the way she wanted to. Lyle watched her go, his heart warring between the need to know what had happened to his sister, and the fear of what he suspected it might be.
"But I want to know."
"I'll bet you do."
With that she was gone, and Lyle turned around and moved back toward the desk. Her words rang in his ears. "She's not there." And though he wanted to do nothing more than deny it, he knew that he had failed to protect her from even this most horrible revelation. His phantom thumb began to throb the way it always did when he was wound so tight emotionally, and he angrily tore off his glove as he dialed the number of someone who needed to know that Mirage might be in trouble.
"It's me. I've got a bad feeling Miss Parker knows about Catherine's empty grave."
He disconnected the line and continued to rub his thumb. Cyrus would call as soon as he got the message, and until then, there was nothing he could do.
The morning talk with Dad had been less than comforting. After finding out that Parker was on the track to finding out they had a brother, Mr. Parker's comment was "I don't want her knowing, for her own good. Hell, if she knew the truth she'd only wish she didn't." Lyle knew that was true, he wished he didn't know the reality of his mother's death, and suspect the truths behind it. Lyle promised his father and himself, to keep Parker "way behind the curve." He set up a surveillance, which his sister promptly circumvented. Another failure to protect the people he loved.
His father had said that Raines would be a blip on their radar if everything went well with Mirage. Mirage was such a wonderfully impersonal name for a person, dehumanizing, then again, The Centre liked to dehumanize everything and everyone, always for some ethereal greater good. Lyle did not have to fake enthusiasm for that part of the project. Getting Raines in his sights seemed a wonderful idea, and getting Mirage - Ethan - away from that bastard was even better.
Lyle spent the morning waiting for information and pretending business as usual. Willie waylaid him at the elevator with a newspaper headline that Emily was still alive. Lyle found his reply, "You try to kill with kindness," sadly amusing. He had done that. His actual orders had been to use the silencer and silence her. Willie came to help him and, Lyle was sure, to witness Emily's murder. He had to do something or Willie would. Emily backed away from them toward the window. Lyle tried to calculate the odds of surviving a two-story fall versus a bullet. The night janitor ended his reverie and forced his hand. Lyle turned and aimed at the startled man, who turned and ran without seeing the sweepers. Then Lyle grabbed Emily and threw her out the window, blocking thoughts and the image of her terror from his mind with action.
The return trip to Philly was tense and silent. Lyle found himself hoping for once, that Jarod got there first. He had, but Lyle's father did not share his relief, "It's your fault that she was still alive."
Yes, it was, thank God. His father inquired about Mirage then said something that chilled Lyle, "My daughter's searching for a ghost. My son's searching for a monster. Last one alive wins...hmm?" Was Ethan a monster? Time would tell. Was this supposed to be a contest to the death? Not if Lyle could help it, he had to get his sister out of The Centre.
***
Jarod was also neck-to-neck with him in the pursuit of Ethan. He found Campbell's home shortly after Raines' sweepers had killed them and shortly before Lyle's sweepers got there. The sweepers saw Jarod leaving the house but the police presence had prevented them from closing in on him. Cox's news that someone had hacked into the NuGenesis records for information on Ethan's father had made things worse. It did not seem possible to keep his sister safely out of this operation. The only hope was to get Jarod off the trail, and Cox found a way, Zoe.
Zoe's capture was simple and uneventful. She was clueless, foolish of Jarod to keep her that way. From bitter experience, Lyle knew that it was safer not to involve yourself with anyone who could be used against you. Taunting Jarod had been pleasant enough. Major Charles rescue had been a surprise. Lyle had not known about the father-son reunion. Unfortunate. He would have to be sure Cox took the blame for that one.
Willie's afternoon surprise, Raines' intercepted communiquE9 to the Triumvirate, was salvation. Lyle enjoyed setting up Raines' fall from power down to SL-25, where he belonged. He remembered telling the bastard that he thought he was his "only special project on the outside." He wished that he had been. He had a half-brother out there that Raines had damaged, a brother he still had to find. Raines had believed Lyle's offer to share power with him, and Mr. Parker had approved Lyle's fawning revelation of the plan. Lyle meant what he said about Raines' Holly Roller gag; praise was from one consummate actor to another. It was inspired but it did not save him in the end. Seeing the look on his face when he discovered the set up was priceless. Looking at his body after Mr. Parker finished the job was not nearly as satisfying.
Back in his apartment that night Lyle reflected that the coup put him back in his father's good graces, and in power, as planned. But Raines had managed to send Parker after Ethan and directly into the path of 7677. She almost died.
Lyle's heart sank at the thought. How Jarod had managed to save her, and Ethan he assumed, was a mystery. The sweepers, seconds late as usual, found only Miss Parker in a puddle in a side passage. There was no sign of Jarod or Ethan. The police investigation produced no bodies so far, and the sweepers were still searching.
Jarod had a throbbing headache, a consequence of proximity to a C4 explosion. Survival was an unexpected outcome. Jarod was amazed that his worst injury was the burn where his FBI identification card had partially melted into his skin. It was good he wore leather.
Ethan had sprung into motion as they jumped from the subway car. He ran, shouting at the voices that drove him, directly into a side tunnel under repair. There was a leaking water pipe and a braced wall, the crumbling infrastructure common to large cities. Once in the tunnel, Ethan again collapsed, Miss Parker went to him and Jarod threw himself over both of them. He heard Miss Parker's beginning protest, immediately drowned out by the concussion of the blast. The tunnel wall behind them disintegrated, partially sealing the passage and pelting them with rubble. The water pipe burst, showering them. Then came the heat that seemed to last forever.
Jarod suspected he had lost consciousness sometime during the ordeal; he remembered the surreal silence afterward. He realized they were lying in a shallow pool and the water flow was slowing. Jarod heard Ethan moaning but Parker was silent. His heart stopped as he looked at her. The majority of Parker's body was submerged in the puddle; her face at it's edge. He gently turned her over and checked for a pulse; it was strong. She moaned, all things considered, a good sign.
Jarod turned his attention to Ethan. His brother was trying to move from under a wood beam that had fallen over his shoulder. Jarod got to his feet, checking bones and joints as he rose. Nothing broken; everything bruised. Jarod lifted the beam enough for Ethan to slide from under it. Ethan screamed. Jarod dropped to his knees to examine Ethan's shoulder and arm. He held them oddly, and blisters were forming on his face. Jarod was torn between getting Ethan away before anyone came, and staying with Parker. He heard yelling at a distance. The authorities could not have responded that quickly; it had to be The Centre. Jarod managed to get Ethan to his feet and they struggled away.
Now Ethan was hospitalized under a false name. He had a fractured shoulder, a concussion, and second-degree burns on his face and hand. Jarod had crashed and set fire to his car as a cover for Ethan's injuries. He refused treatment for his own, allowing only a bit of ointment on the back of his neck and hands when a concerned nurse insisted. Jarod refused to leave Ethan. He would not be late to save his family again. Jarod put the time to use checking the new government files he'd found before this fiasco started. He wanted to check for information on Mr. Lyle.
Lyle was drowning. He struggled to the surface but the water washed over him. Washed. A vision of Raines washing someone's feet, a woman he could not see, flashed through his mind. Raines turned to him and smiled. Lyle heard him say, "Wash away your sins with the water of Salvation." Lyle wanted to scream "You're dead!" but his mouth filled with water. Mr. Parker's voice said, "If it gets deep enough it'll drown you." Water under the bridge. Something ahead... Lyle searched for a hold as the water swept him on but there was nothing to hold to. Salvation would never be his. He looked up at the bridge as he passed beneath, and saw his mother and Ethan watching him. Catherine put out her hand; Lyle reached for it but she was too far away. Catherine withdrew her hand. Water clouded his vision and when he blinked Catherine became his sister. Miss Parker turned away from him and embraced Ethan.
As the torrent pulled him under, Lyle heard a baby crying. He knew that cry. He surfaced. He could hear his son but not see him. Desperate, he grabbed at a tree root and hauled himself out of the river. He saw his father on the far bank, carrying the baby. His son reached for him. He heard his father's voice over the rushing water, "...it's for a cause bigger than both of us ... I don't expect you to understand, but in the end it does all add up." Mr. Parker held up the baby with both hands and dropped him into the river. As the writhing child hit the water Lyle looked at his father's face, and saw himself. He screamed, "No...!" and dove into the river. He almost caught the baby's hand but they were swept apart. Somehow, he found him again and grabbed him, but he knew his son was lifeless in his arms. He held him to his heart and allowed the water to take them into the darkness.
Lyle woke coughing and gagging. He was lying on his own couch, soaked with sweat. Lyle scrubbed at his face then reached for the beeping cellular phone that had rescued him from his nightmare.
Jarod glanced at his sleeping brother. Ethan was doing well and would be discharged in a day or so. He looked back to the screen of his laptop, on the table in front of him. He had discovered something that made him sick beyond belief. He stared at the information till his eyes burned, not really seeing anything anymore. Blinking to focus, he realized that he cried silent tears, tears for the innocent victims who could not defend themselves, not then and some never again. He had to tell Miss Parker about the monster that was her twin brother. He pulled out his cellular phone.
***
Miss Parker came through the ordeal with singed hair, a mild concussion, bruises, and a bad attitude. She was annoyed at Jarod for leaving her unconscious and soaked while he ran off. She was almost frantic with worry about Ethan... and him. Now she was trapped at home and Broots refused to feed her information on anything. She had coerced the Centre doctor into allowing her to return to work tomorrow. She would get updated then or someone would be sorry.
The phone rang. Parker grabbed it, glad for any break in the boredom, "What?"
"Miss Parker, I'm sorry to disturb you."
Jarod apologetic? Something was wrong. "It never stopped you before." Fear crept into her voice, "Is Ethan dead?"
"No, he was injured but our brother will survive. I'm calling about your other brothers."
"Lyle and the baby? What about them?"
"The baby is fine but you have to get him away from Mr. Lyle."
"Why the sudden concern for the baby. You've never shown more interest in him than his father."
"I can't tell you over the phone. Check your secure email when you get back to work. I'll leave you more information than you want to know. More than I want to tell you..."
"More than you want to tell me? Jarod, you have dug up all my family's dirty secrets. What could you not want to tell me?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Parker, just read. I have to go, this line is not secure." Jarod cut the connection.
"Jarod? Jarod!" Miss Parker slammed down the receiver. Damn him. Parker groaned her way out of bed and into clothes. If the answer was at The Centre then that's where she needed to be.
Lyle picked the cellular up from where it lay on his jacket, draped across the back of the couch.
"Yes?" Better to keep his side of the conversation short until he was sure of the caller and his voice.
"Lyle? What the hell happened today?"
"Cyrus. Glad you could finally return my call."
"You are not my only operative, Lyle."
"No? I thought I was you only project, aside from Corinna of course, just like I thought I was Raines'. Unfortunately my mother and Ethan both preceded me."
"Lyle."
"Back to the point, Emily survived her little accident. Her brother came to the rescue and saved her from the evil twin. It appears that she is safe with her family. So is Jarod's latest fling, a woman by the name of Zoe."
"Zoe?"
"She's of no particular importance at the moment. I had her and the good Major took her back. They ran away together, probably off to see the wizard or the clone."
"The Major is back in the picture?"
"Not at the moment, at least I hope not, that's all I need right now," Lyle rubbed at his face distractedly.
"And your sister?"
"She found out about Catherine's use as an incubator for our Father's little project, or more correctly our brother, Ethan. I'm sure she wishes our family tree had a lot fewer branches."
"Have you tracked Ethan?"
Lyle laughed shortly, "Heard from the DC Metro lately?"
"The Centre was behind that?" Cyrus was surprised but not shocked. "There are at least five terrorist groups claiming responsibility for the explosion."
"Doesn't matter. One of them would have taken the blame anyway. It was a
failed operation, missed the target, so we won't get paid."
"Care to tell me the real target? Or should I guess, the hotel at Freedom
Station?"
"Good guessing; that's why you get paid the big bucks."
"Your excellent mood has a better reason than loss of payment. They haven't found any bodies."
"I don't think they will. Parker was there and she survived. She's not badly injured in case you care."
Cyrus did care, but decided not to feed Lyle's bad mood. "She didn't set the bomb. I assume it was Ethan. Where is he?"
"I don't know, missing along with his half-brother. Jarod to the rescue again. He whisked Ethan safely away from The Centre's clutches. I'm sure he'll gather Emily onto his white charger and join good old Dad at the family castle."
"It might not be a bad thing if Jarod is preoccupied. He may stay out of Centre business." Cyrus knew that sentence was a mistake the second he uttered it.
"A, Jarod is never too busy to put his nose in Centre business. B, Ethan is my brother too. And C, I have a slightly bruised sister who just found and lost a brother, all in one day. She's already told me to stay the hell away from the baby; this will make her worse."
"You've handled her before. How will all this affect the project?"
"Oh the project is moving along swimmingly" Lyle smiled as he pulled at the front of his sweat-soaked shirt. Swimming, just like in the dream. Now if he just didn't have to sacrifice his son for the greater good. "I am back in my father's good graces and I expect to have the power to go with it. Oh, and by the way, Raines is dead."
"You?"
"No, no murders today. There's always tomorrow though."
Cyrus sighed silently. One of these days Lyle was liable to climb a clock tower with a semiautomatic and a good scope. He wondered how far down the victim list his name would be. "Lyle, you know the next steps in our plan. If you need any help, contact Corinna or myself," he paused, "and I'm glad your sister is all right."
"Yes, of course, thanks."
Cyrus cut the connection; Lyle followed suite. He could not tell Cyrus that he had added a step to their plan, a small one involving a small boy. Lyle got up and headed for the shower. He needed to change and get moving. Miss Parker was due back at The Centre tomorrow. The kidnapping had to happen tonight.
***
The tunnel was probably the dirtiest in all of the Centre and Lyle had to fight feelings of revulsion and disgust as he made his way through the maze. The air was stale, and cobwebs that were as thick as cotton impeded him. The fine dust that made a cloud that, as he maneuvered his way to the control box, tickled his nostril hairs, making him sneeze and cough, harshly.
He wanted a safe nest in which to raise his son, he thought, as his hands forced back the panel door on the control box. He leaned back, momentarily, until his shoulders touched the wall, closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath of the dry, musty air and let his thoughts wander. He, his son and perhaps his sister and brother. . . .what a dream.
Crackle---he swung around. A noise in the tunnel. Looking around there was no place to hide. His heart beat rapidly against his ribcage. Still alone. Turning back to the task at hand, he pulled out a small palm-sized computer unit, attached it to the wiring inside and turned it on. The only sounds to be heard were the soft whirrs of the computer system at work.
Within moments, the unit began to flash, and the numbers on the control panel recalibrated themselves to those he had programmed in their stead. He resisted the urge to pat himself on the back, mostly because this was the first stage of getting his son out of this hellhole, and there was still a great deal to be done.
She'd been in a bad mood all day, until Jarod's phone call. Now she had a reason to be here, and for the first time since the explosion, Parker felt a smile break out on her face--any chance to give Lyle a bad moment. Knowing Jarod this had to be worth all the pain that she endured just to get here. There was a certain beauty in imaging Lyle's simpering face once she relegated him to the position of caretaker of the Centre's refuse department. She lowered herself into the black leather chair, stabbed at her computer's activation button with a manicured finger, and impatiently waited for her mail screen to open. Scrolling quickly through the garbage that had accumulated in her absence, she found what had motivated her out of a warm bed at this ungodly hour. Until she knew what Jarod had unearthed regarding her demented twin, Sydney and Broots would remain in the dark. They were on a need to know basis, so when they needed to know, she'd tell them.
The Centre's silence was disrupted by the shrill of its' smoke alarms and within seconds of the clamor, the sprinkler system engaged itself. For those few moments, when water sprinkled down, most of the night-shift staff were to stunned to react.
Even though she was still bruised, battered and stiff from her recent encounter with an apron of concrete, her first thoughts were for her baby brother in the nursery located just down the hallway, and not for the email on the computer that literally went kaput the minute water cascaded down, frying the insides. Jarod's email would have to wait. Literally, flying out of her office, she navigated the long, curving corridor and abruptly stopped at the nursery doors. The doors were open; she could see there was no sign of water or smoke inside. She did however, fairly vibrate with outrage as she tried to find the proper words to express her fury and sense of betrayal at seeing him standing there comforting the baby. The emotions all came roiling to the surface. She reached behind her back, her fingers wrapping around the butt of her gun that she kept tucked there.
"I told you to stay away from the baby, Lyle," Parker said, her voice strong and clear, her gun in hand," Now put him down."
"Damn," he muttered under his breath, his mind quickly working through his timetable, if she didn't back down, in say ten minutes, then he'd have to hurt her. Not something that he really wanted to do, but he was going to win this one. For once in his life, he was going to accomplish his goal. His best course of action now was to take her with him. He had to pique her interest in why.
Lyle turned slowly, lowering the baby from his shoulder to rest in the crook of his left arm. The baby boy, was pale-skinned, and wide-eyed with tear tracks that had dried on his cheeks. Lyle was staring at her, and he wasn't smiling. It was the first time she'd ever seen him when he wasn't smiling. It froze the marrow in her bones.
"Put the baby down," she said. "Gently. Do it now."
Lyle stared at her.
"Do it, Lyle."
Very slowly, he began to crack a smile. He started to walk toward her, his right hand dipping into his jacket and coming out with his own gun.
"Going to shoot me, sis>" Lyle said softly. "Might hurt baby brother, here."
Parker released the safety of her Smith & Wesson with a flick of her thumb, readjusting her arm.
"Down! I mean it Lyle!" The baby whimpered.
"No!" It was barely a whisper. "You're scaring him."
He was close now, still holding the little boy in the crook of his left arm. He brought his gun up level with her forehead, cocking it slowly.
She was staring right at him, he wasn't more than two feet away, and she knew what would happen next. There was only one thing to do. Take him out, her mind screamed, but she couldn't risk endangering the baby. She'd be damned if she was going to let him grow up surrounded by monsters. She had promised his mother that her son would survive.
"Drop the gun, Parker. Then we are going to walk out of here. The three of us. There's a car with the keys already in the ignition, waiting in the parking lot. We're going for a drive." He started to jostle the baby gently, his gun still pointed directly at her forehead.
"This was your idea," she cocked her head toward the hallway, where the sprinklers were still spraying water, "why?"
"Ingenious, if not diabolical, wasn't it? Now stop stalling for backup, it won't work. I programmed the computer to simulate a fire on SL-16, and that, my dear sister, is on the other side of the Centre, so, most if not all of the staff are trying to figure out where. I am leaving and with Thane, so if you want answers, do yourself a favor, drop the god-damn gun and move."
Something brushed against her temple. She flinched and looked. The barrel of Lyle's gun. Sloppy, she chided herself, extremely foolish on her part. She had kept her eyes on the baby, who seemed content in his arms, and not on Lyle.
"Seconds matter, decide now!"
She turned to look her brother in the eyes as she slowly released the trigger of her gun, she knew this was a mistake on her part, but this wasn't typical Lyle behavior. Why wasn't she dead? Why did he want to take the baby? Slowly, she lowered her arm, the gun clattering to the floor.
"That's a good sister, now move."
Everything was different, the fight was different, Parker thought as the three of them made their way out to the car that Lyle had waiting in the Centre's parking lot. Lyle paused, momentarily as they reached the black sedan, the night sky starting to lighten with the dawning of a new day.
"Open the door, Parker. Now get in," he waved his gun at her, slightly. He watched as she slid in the driver's side of the car, past the steering wheel and stopped next to the infant carrier he had seat-belted to the front passenger side.
"Now, I'm going to sit and then hand you the baby, put him in the infant seat. Don't think of trying to play heroine, leave that for those better suited to the title," he said as he slid behind the wheel and then handed her the infant. Lyle slammed the door to the sedan and started the engine as Parker strapped the little boy into the seat next to her. She didn't like being caged in the front seat with Lyle mere inches from her. It not only reminded her of when they were locked in the tractor-trailer box but it also gave her a rather claustrophobic feeling; so she turned her attention to the little boy in the car seat instead.
Stony silence ruled the day until Lyle turned briefly to check on his passengers. Parker was staring out the front window, his son, oblivious to all this, was busy sucking his fist. A sure sign that he would want his breakfast, and soon, Lyle thought.
"Threats, theft, murder, and now kidnapping -- in the real world, Lyle, these are enough to condemn a man to prison or death," she said softly, her eyes still staring straight out the window.
"But in the Centre, Parker, they're a rite of passage," he replied, the corners of his lips turning upwards, "your point?"
It was a start, he thought to himself, as he felt his smile grow, and she had initiated it.
"Back there. . ." she started then stopped.
"Yes?" he glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the road.
"You said something, that has me a bit puzzled."
"And that would be?"
"You called our brother, Thane," she took her eyes off the road and looked at the man seated next to her, looked at him hard.
"He's a baby and should have a name, his own little identity. Master Parker is not a name. It's a label, impersonal to say the least, like Mr. Lyle or Mr. Parker."
Or Miss Parker, she thought, trying to figure out who this person in the car sitting next to her was. His reaction to her question had completely disarmed her. It was only the timbre of his voice that revealed that it was the same person, yet something about him had changed.
"You're speeding, you know. Nine miles over the speed limit," changing the subject.
"Don't see any cops, do you?" he said. "Since when have you been a stickler for the traffic laws, sis? I've seen you leave the cops in the dust."
"Since there's a baby in the car, Lyle," she replied, "so lets keep it under the speed limit, okay."
"Fine." He smiled and lifted his foot from the accelerator and carefully slowed down. "Get some rest, Parker, we have a long drive."
The last of the early morning mist vanished as the sun broke the horizon line. The landscape was covered with the green foliage of lush trees, the trill of birds echoed through the air and a baby's cry pierced it.
"He's hungry," Lyle said, softly. "There's a bottle in the bag in the back. You don't mind feeding him, do you?"
"No, I don't mind," she said softly, as she shifted around to reach the bag in the back of the car.
"Only a couple of hours to go," he said as he watched his sister feed his son.
The car turned up the long, curved pathway in the highlands adjacent to Dream Lake, and the sight literally took Parker's breath away. A sienna brown log cabin loomed out the front window like a photograph in one of those coffee table books. The cabin was surrounded by a copse of evergreens, a forest painted in variegated shades of springtime green, azaleas and rhododendrons bloomed across the front lawn, and were edged by platycodon and dogwood and a path wrapped around the house leading to the lake.
"Why are you . . . .?"
"Taking matters in to my own hands," he replied as the car stopped and Lyle shut off the engine. He exited the car and walked around the front, opening the passenger side door, "You really want to know?"
She watched as he unlatched the seat belt that restrained the infant seat that held their baby brother; then removed it from the car, talking to the infant as he did so.
"Yes," she replied, perplexed by his actions.
"Good, since, there's no where for you to go," his voice echoed back to her, as he entered the front door of the cabin with his son.
It was Parker's shriek that caused Lyle to react instinctively as he sprinted to his fallen sister's side.
"What happen?" he asked as he noticed that her left ankle was twisted at a rather odd angle under her.
"I slipped. You could have told me that the pathway was damp from the morning dew. Now help me up."
Sydney and Broots were in the office, grimly surveying the water damage caused from the fire sprinklers, when the phone rang.
"This is Sydney," the voice was fluid.
"Sydney?" the voice on the other end said, somewhat shocked, "Where's Miss Parker? I've tried her at home, and now you're answering her phone. What's going on?"
"Jarod, when's the last time you spoke to her?" he closed his eyes, hoping that the worst was behind them. No such luck.
"Early this morning," he replied," I sent her information on Lyle via secured email. Why?"
