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Choices
Safe house
"Margaret?" his voice failed to respond, and he tried again. It has been so long that he hadn't seen her; he didn't quite know how to respond. His legs were refusing to work, and he sat there staring at her like a love struck schoolboy.
"How…"
He still couldn’t find the words to respond. He watched in wonder when his wife took a step towards him, her arms raised, inviting him back to where he belonged. That was the catalyst. His legs grew strong again, his body young and vibrant. He jumped from the couch, crushing his wife to his chest. Tears flowed freely and he held her like he never wanted to let her go. The smell of her hair entered his nostrils, making him giddy. He had forgotten what they had smelled liked and that made him sad. He could not understand the mix of emotions that seemed to change easily within him. Sadness, happiness, life, regret. All those seemed to play around in his mind and heart.
Gently, he pushed her slightly away from him, tracing her eyes, nose and lips with his fingers. Relishing in the feel of them. His thumb pushed the tears to the side, his lips melting onto hers in a kiss so familiar he wondered why he had never gone mad with loneliness before. Finally letting go, he made sure he still had some physical contact with her.
She looked at him with joy and disbelief. Turning, she held onto his hand, pulling him towards the door. He heard a car door slam. He centred himself just in time to catch his daughter as she ran into his arms, hugging him tightly as she laughed out loud. Pulling his wife back into his embrace, he held on tightly to both.
Everything is going to be alright.
**********
The Centre – Renewal Wing
J didn't want to leave. He fought with everything he had but the walls kept crumbling. Shafts of light shone through cracks, creating paths of white that traced back to reality. The tugging was more insistent and couldn’t be ignored anymore. A silent scream escaped from his tortured soul, as his body fused to one of the paths, elongating and stretching the surroundings until he was no longer sure of any dimension, position or direction.
He opened his eyes.
Pain assaulted his senses. His chest felt like a jackhammer had chiselled into it. Looking down, he saw bruises that discoloured his flesh where the heart compressions had left their mark. An IV was connected to his left hand; his wrists encased in soft straps. One or two cuts had been stitched; his feet felt tight and warm. He guessed that it had probably been bandaged. A slight rustle made him aware of a person sitting in the corner to the right of him. The dark suit identified him as a sweeper and J turned slightly away from him. His chest was constricting and he had difficulty breathing. He felt surprise when sweat started to form, his hands forming fists. His body started to tremble, tears flowing silently from his eyes. Everything seemed too close, too tight, too near. He was faintly aware of a doctor coming in; a light shining in his pupils. He was trying to understand what was happening to him but it took too much effort. He was grateful when the faint prick brought him back to peace.
**********
The Centre – Renewal wing
"He did regain consciousness briefly. I am worried about his emotional state. He had a severe panic attack and I had to sedate him."
"I want him able to perform. You have six hours left, doctor. I suggest you get to work."
**********
Sydney's office
Broots knocked lightly on the open door. Entering the dimly lit room, he noticed Sydney sitting behind his desk, the flickering light from a DSA player skirting across his face. Jarod's young voice could be heard faintly and the deeper, accented voice of Sydney answering.
"Uh, Sydney, you wanted to see me."
Sydney reached his hand across, ending his musings, bringing his attention back to the present situation.
"Broots, I need you to find any footage of Jarod's cell of the past two days. I want you to run a loop through it, creating a ten minute copy."
Broots thought he had stepped into the twilight zone. Wondering if this was some sort of test, he looked around the office for any sign of Lyle.
"Broots, did you hear me?"
"Do you have any idea what would h…happen to me if I got caught doing that. L…Lyle's keeping very close guard on the DSA's that you want. I would h…have to break into his o…office a…and…"
"I'm well aware what you have to do, Broots. I'm sure that you will be able to get them undetected. I also need to know where they are keeping Jarod's clone. Apparently Mr White had returned him to the Centre last night."
"Sydney, w…what are you planning on doing? Or wait, I don't think I want to know."
"Something I should have done a long time ago. Broots, I need those DSA's."
Sinking into the chair, Broots tried to make sense of the sudden change in his world. Even without Miss Parker, he still managed to get himself into another compromising and dangerous situation. He'll do this for Miss Parker, he determined; his imagination having no problem with coming up with sentences she would use to urge him into another break-in. He was about to reply to Sydney’s request when the office door opened.
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
His ringing phone distracted him from the image on the screen. Miss Parker was facing away from the cameras, the blanket wrapped around her in a vain attempt to bring some comfort. His smile ended, a scowl replacing it when he saw the number that flashed on the phone’s screen.
“Yes.”
Listing to the voice, his eyes darkened slightly but never left the monitor.
“It won’t be long now. She should be ready in forty-eight hours.”
The voice continued, with him listening attentively until the caller ended the conversation. Leaning forward, he traced the immobile figure on the screen, remembering the touch of his fingertips on her silky skin.
“Soon.”
**********
The Centre - Simlab
Jarod rested his head on his arms; his food pushed to one side. Since his conversation with Alex, he had been grilled by Lyle on any knowledge he might have had on the other pretender. For now he was left alone, Willie sat by the door to ensure he stayed put. He had half a mind to tell Lyle that he knew where Miss Parker was but that would mean that any advantage he had, he would lose. It would mean new projects, new sims and he had some idea what would happen when he denied Lyle those. He was worried about the state that Miss Parker could be in. She had built so many barriers to protect herself that he had no idea what she would do when all of them were broken. He remembered one harrowing sim he had performed when he was a teenager and it scared him to think that Miss Parker might be going through the same process. He tried to push the memory down, but it was unsuccessful as the full force of it inserted itself into his consciousness.
He could feel the loneliness create a void around him. His mind felt overwhelmed with images of people. He tried to remember what it felt like to be able to touch another human being. His voice was hoarse from lack of use. He doubted that he would be able to string a sentence together when they found him, and that frightened him even more. He didn’t want to experience these feelings anymore.
“Jarod, concentrate. We need to know why this particular individual developed severe psychosis and anxiety problems.”
He thought he saw someone move in the corner. He wanted nothing more than to realise another person in the room. Someone to talk to, someone to touch. Focusing again on the corner he almost broke down when the same paint-spattered wall stood immobile with no person evident. Disappointed he decided to focus back on the happier times he had. His mind couldn’t seem to recall any of those supposed times, questions the only thing that inserted itself into those spaces. Why didn’t anyone want him anymore? What did he do wrong? Why did his parents hate him so much? Nobody will miss him if he’s gone. He had sat in the isolation chamber so long that when he finally whispered refuge he had managed to push himself too far. He remembered how startled he was to find people touching him, their words making no sense. He had thought them part of his dream, his hallucinations that had permeated the world he had created.
He remembered Sydney pull him from his spiralling thoughts. That sim had came very close to pushing him towards total rebellion and if he thinks back to it, the Centre had terminated that particular project, not wanting to risk him finding the truth. Now Miss Parker was in the same situation. He knew that Alex won’t just leave her isolated. He would use her own weakness against her, to terrorise her even further towards a nervous breakdown.
He had to get out of the Centre.
**********
Sydney’s office
“Lyle.”
“Sydney is there some crisis I should know about? If I read my memo correctly, you were told explicitly to stay away from the Centre today.”
Broots had no idea where to look or what to do. Lyle’s eyes traced back to him and he wilted under their implications. Looking towards Sydney for support, he felt slightly better when the psychiatrist refused to be intimidated by the younger man.
“I had some paper work I needed to finish. I was only told to stay away from Jarod and that I have complied with. Anything else I can do for you, Lyle.”
Lyle’s eyes narrowed, his right hand pulling on his leather glove.
“You two aren’t up to something, are you?”
Silence greeted the question, with Sydney settling himself behind his desk and Broots staring at the floor.
**********
Safe house – 13:00
All four of them were sitting around the kitchen table. Although Harry was a stranger, Charles did not mind. The man was courteous and fun to be around with and he was grateful for all Harry had done since they eluded Mr White. He couldn't stop staring at Margaret. They were both older, both emotionally hurt by what had happened in their past, but that seemed to fade with each smile they gave, with each gentle touch. Their fingers were intertwined, they had not let go of each other since they met.
He was content to sit and listen to their stories and what they had been doing since the forced split sixteen years ago. Now and again, the atmosphere was tainted by close shaves with Centre sweepers but it could not dampen their thankfulness for being together. He had yet to tell them about Jarod and J and was reluctant to spoil the moment. Finally, with his wife and daughter looking at him in anticipation, he told them about his and J’s capture, his lucky escape with the help from Harry and Jarod’s re-incarceration at the Centre. It felt so good not to carry the burden alone anymore. His tale finished with their plans to break the two boys out of the Centre's grasp. He felt Margaret's gentle hand turn his face, the world shrinking until all he could do was gaze into eyes full of understanding, grace and love. In that perfect moment, he knew that Jarod and J would escape, that their dreams of being a family will finally come true.
**********
Renewal Wing
“Son, I need you to wake up for me, ok.”
The words seemed so familiar, that J frowned. His eyes stayed closed, the feel of a cold compress against his hot forehead bringing back painful memories. Thinking it part of his dream, he murmured.
“Michael?”
“Its ok, son. You are safe here.”
J didn’t believe the voice. Safe did not include sweepers, and cuffs and death. Whimpering, he tried to ignore the insistent voice. The images from the room still assaulted his mind, sometimes so vivid that he could see every detail down to the pulsating darkness of man’s evil soul. It’s not who he is, he promised. It’s not him.
**********
Lyle's office
Broots was once again stuck in Lyle's bathroom. He heard Lyle's chair creak, the footsteps from the other man leading towards the bathroom door. His near panic turned into a sigh of relief when the phone rang. He had no idea how he would explain his presence to Miss Parker's brother; Lyle's last question still ringing in his mind. I have to be crazy to keep doing this to myself, he thought, listening closely when Lyle picked up the phone.
"This is Lyle."
"Good, let the boy rest. I'll be there at four."
Broots heard the click of the phone being returned to its cradle. He was looking around, trying to find a hiding place, the doorknob turning when another call made Lyle swear. Wiping his brow, Broots couldn’t believe his luck. He almost missed the one-sided conversation.
"Lyle."
"We have our agreement, Mr White… No, I don't see a reason to extend the contract."
"Fine, in light of the new information, you have until noon tomorrow."
Broots wondered what contract Lyle had with the albino. That guy freaked him out; he liked him even less than Cox. He heard Lyle's footsteps and was trying to think how to explain his presence when he heard the outer door close. He almost needed the bathroom himself.
**********
Johnny's diner – 14:30
The diner was typical, gaudy and tasteless but adequate for a meeting place between Sydney and Broots, away from any spying eyes of the Centre. They were seated in the last booth, a brown manila envelope lying on the table between them.
"I've found the boy. He has been taken to the infirmary late last night. Mary, one of the nurses – she's quite cute, have this dimple…oh right," Sydney's impatient look drew him back to the facts, "she says that the boy had flat-lined and they nearly lost him."
Sydney sat back, wondering how he was going to explain this to the Major. Their plan was made that more difficult due to Jarod's injury, now they had the boy's mobility to worry about too.
"Will they move him in the next twenty four hours?"
"She doesn't think so."
"Ok, have you managed to create surveillance loops from the DSA's?"
Broots slid a disc over to the older man, "This is a ten minute loop. The guards make a shift change for Jarod at one. The boy is a bit more difficult. They only brought him in yesterday."
"We will have to find a way around that. I'll speak to the Major and see what we can come up with. When are you meeting Jarod again?"
"Oh, that's the funny part. Lyle told me to take the afternoon off."
Sydney didn't want to think what the consequences for Jarod would be in the hands of Lyle with no one to stop the psychopath from dispensing his sense of justice. His worry increased, wondering in what state the pretender will be found tonight. He needed Jarod at least partially mobile if their plan was going to work. After the meeting finished, he made sure Broots had adequately protected himself from any possible suspicion by the Centre when Jarod and J's escape became public. He needed to speak to Harry to find out if the paramedic had access to any stimulants in case he needed to use it on Jarod. After that, all they needed to do was find Parker.
**********
Renewal Wing - 16:00
J finally opened his eyes. Everything was quiet, the chair empty where the sweeper had sat. He heard some movement outside his curtains, and he quickly closed his eyes again. When nothing happened, he reopened his eyes. The straps kept his hands at his sides but they were not that tight. If he could somehow manage to loosen them, he might be able to escape.
That thought terminated when the curtain was opened to reveal Lyle. He tried to close his eyes in order to feign sleep again, but it was too late. Shrinking into the bed, he tried to distance himself from the menacing presence. He remembered all too clearly his punishment for attacking the man in front of him and he didn't want to experience that claustrophobic room so soon again.
"I trust you have learned a little respect, Gemini."
He flinched when Lyle's hand came to rest on his arm. He could feel his breath quicken, his heartbeat heavy with dread. He turned his face away, trying to hide his panic when another image flashed across his mind again. He was not aware of the softly spoken words that left his lips,
"Make it stop."
Lyle's fingers made indentations on his chin, forcing him to face the other. J shivered, a shudder that left him painfully aware that he had no way of protecting himself against what the chairman’s son was planning. His hands were clammy, his muscles tight. He wished his dad was here and that only made him more aware of what the Centre were capable of.
“I have a project I want you to do for me.”
J wanted nothing more than to be back in his safe place. At least there, he had some rest from the visual bombarding of violence that flashed across his memory. He tried to will himself back there, disappointment settling in his stomach when he found himself still staring at the other man. Lyle stepped back, allowing two sweepers to start loosening his straps. J swallowed, his fear palpable but under control. The sweepers pulled him upright, forcing his body to stand between theirs. He held his head upright, trying to keep up with his two guardians.
He blanched when he saw the door that Lyle opened. Struggling, he tried to escape from the bruising grips of the sweepers. He managed to pull one arm partially free from a fist. Twisting and turning, they boy ignored all commands. His movements became more frantic, the closer they came to his concurrent nightmare. A fist to his kidneys left him gasping and limp, allowing the sweepers to pull him inside. The sight of the chair brought renewed fighting, one word following each other as he voiced his fear and agitation. They had to work hard to strap him into the chair.
Panting, he felt blood drip from a cut that had been reopened above his eyebrow. He could feel it trickle down the side of his face, creating a thin trail of wetness that tickled. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry of laugh at the absurdity of it all. He tried to wriggle his fingers, watching in fascination as they swelled. The straps pinched his skin, so tight he knew that it would hurt when they removed it again. He tried to ignore Lyle’s footsteps; he tried to ignore how the room made him feel.
The flashback came so rapid, so vicious that he had no time to protect himself. It drove him further from Lyle's presence, forcing him to close his eyes and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Riding it, he tried to stay ahead of the menacing image, the screams in his head real.
Breathing erratically, he became aware of fingernails that dug cruelly into his chin. Acknowledging, his eyes fluttered before they focused on Lyle again.
“Do you still want to fight your destiny or are you ready to embrace it. I’m sure that we still have some footage left that you have not yet seen.”
J wanted to hurt Lyle. He wanted to pound all his frustration and fear into that smirking face till nothing was left but a bloody mess. He wanted to resist, to be strong like Jarod but the thought of witnessing the destruction of people again made his stomach tighten to the point that he could feel its contents burn upwards. He started to shiver, unable to stop his body’s response to his fear. Lyle started to leave, the speakers humming with anticipation and he couldn’t help it. The traitorous words left his lips, trembling like the coward he thought he was.
“No, please.”
He could feel Lyle’s pleasure at his surrender. He heard the steady footsteps until Lyle entered his vision. He couldn’t raise his eyes; he felt shame burn from his face, and he tried to shrink even further away from the cruel words that vibrated in his head. Lyle’s disfigured hand pulled his face upward till he was forced to make eye contact with the blond man. The question came dangerously, whispering promises if unheard.
“Are we going to have any problems receiving your full cooperation?”
A defeated answer slipped from his lips, burning acidly when they left his tongue, “No, sir.”
J felt Lyle tap his face, the touch as unwelcome as the attention. He heard Lyle’s whispers of scornful praise before the man left, and he hated himself for giving in.
**********
Simlab – 17:00
Jarod was seated at the table, his head bent over a piece of paper. He had spent the afternoon working with another tech until he left about thirty minutes ago. He had made his way to the table, glad for the respite. Continuing with his notes, he actively thought of ways to fool the Centre and get Parker before Alex could carry out his plans. Surreptitiously, he made sure that he couldn’t be seen by the camera and Willie, his right hand slowly bending a sliver of metal into shape. Satisfied, he inserted the small piece inside the bandage that covered his left wrist. His plans were now falling into place and all he needed was a drug free night.
Two sweepers entered the Simlab, walking over to where the pretender was seated. Lyle entered behind them, with a smile on his face and a relaxed stance. Jarod tried to ignore the two burly men that stood next to him, dropping his hands so that they gripped his armrests.
"Jarod, there is something I want to show you."
Lyle tried hard, but he couldn’t keep the mocking triumph out of his voice.
"I'd rather skip it, thanks."
Jarod’s grip tightened, his knuckles white from the pressure of his muscles. He had no idea what Lyle had planned. He thought something like this would happen when Broots hadn't returned for the afternoon session, and he needed to stay fairly uninjured if he wanted to have an adequate chance of escape.
The hands of the sweepers dropped onto his shoulders, heavy and unyielding. He couldn’t see Willie; the dark man had disappeared somewhere behind him and he could hear the rustle of his clothes.
"Oh, I think you will want to see this."
Jarod had no time to react. Willie dropped the black hood over his face, jerking the string closed. His hands came up to jerk it from his face and was stopped by the grips from the sweepers when the wrenched him upwards, away from his seat.
"Lyle, I'll…" was stopped in mid sentence becoming a grunt of pain, when his arms were pulled behind and upward. The cold steel of cuffs clinked around his wrists, creating a numbing pain to the bruises and cuts. They pushed him forward, his leg shooting darts of pain every time he was forced to put pressure on it. He tried to hop on one foot but that was unsuccessful, the pace too fast for him to keep up. He couldn't see, only aware of the grips of the sweepers and Lyle's footsteps in front of him.
Jarod heard a door open, Lyle's footsteps coming to a halt on the other side. He knew what was coming but still couldn’t prevent the violent shove that sent him careering over the threshold. His injured leg folded under him, his shoulder contacting hard against the floor. The black cloth twisted with the fall, pulling tight against his face. Lifting his head released the tightness a bit, allowing the gathering panic in his chest to dissipate. He lay still, trying to get his breathing under control. He heard movement in front of him. Tensing, he waited, shifting slightly when the movement stopped. .
Slowly, he moved into a seating position. He tried to listen where Lyle was. Pins and needles were shooting painfully up his arms; he could feel the blood from one of the deeper cuts seeping through the bandage that covered his wrist. His left leg was trembling uncontrollably. He straightened his leg to bring some relieve, the spasms only slightly abating. Lyle's smooth question came from somewhere in front of him, a question he had not expected.
"I think you have been holding out on us, Jarod. How long have you known the location of Parker?"
Taking a deep breath, he answered with a pretender's guile, "I don't know what you're talking about. Don't you think if I knew I would have told you?" He projected confusion in his voice, and made his body language communicate uncertainty and fear.
"Come now, Jarod. We both know you're a lot smarter than that. Between you and me, how long did it take you before you had Parker in your sights?"
Shaking his head, Jarod sensed someone else in the room. The person was behind him, trying to be quiet. He heard a footstep, and blinked rapidly when the hood was removed. Lyle was leaning against the wall, relaxed; his smile evil. He was studying him, waiting for a reaction that Jarod had no desire to give. Refusing to answer the previous question, he took in his surroundings. It was a normal Centre Simlab, albeit smaller than usual but no different. The two sweepers stood by the door and he did not plan on obliging Lyle to use them. He could still feel the presence behind him and was loathe turning away from Lyle. His curiosity won out and he shifted sideways, one eye on the blond man and sweepers.
Jarod had no idea what he had wanted to try and do. He was cuffed and lame and still he tried to get to Lyle. He started to rise; only to have his leg gave way. He dropped onto his right knee, his other leg folded next to it. He ignored the renewed pain that flooded his senses, trying to come to terms with Lyle's change in tactics. Settling into a seated position again he looked over to the boy that was seated to the left of him. He had straps across his body, legs and arms that held him immobile. The reason there was no sound was because J had been gagged; he could see the checkered pattern of the filthy rag sticking from behind the dark cloth that kept it in J's mouth. Jarod could trace the path that silent tears had made - between and over a mirage of cuts that ranged from recent to day old ones - down the boy's face, increasing his hatred for Lyle even more. He was dressed only in Centre-issued cargo-pants; his chest a mosaic of fading bruises. The boy's feet were encased in dirty, unravelling bandages. One ear had been nicked by a bullet, the missing part forever a reminder. All those he could somehow accept, what he couldn't was the dullness and defeat that the boy's eyes proclaimed. Whatever had been done, it must have been horrendous to let J – who had survived fourteen years under Raines – look like a shell-shock survivor of the Blitz.
Jarod turned his attention back to the smiling man against the wall. His eyes glared his hatred and distaste for the man in front of him. He now had some idea what Lyle had planned and he had to push down on the frustration that was beginning to surface. He watched as the blond man pushed from the wall, walking past him towards the boy. Lyle's left hand emerged from his pocket, holding a knife. Keeping his gaze, Lyle slowly opened the serrated seven-inch blade. Jarod started to rise in anger, the warning look from Lyle forcing him to resettle on the floor. He tried to reassure J, hoping to divert the boy’s attention from the weapon in Lyle’s hand.
"Jarod, you haven't answered my previous question."
Lyle pushed the knife against the boy's skin enough to break the skin, holding it there, waiting for the pretender. The boy's muscles flexed under his resting hand, the only sound breaking the stillness the harsh breathing from J. He started a shallow cut, relishing in the silent squirming of his victim till Jarod's voice stopped his hand.
"This morning! I've known since this morning. Lyle, please…you have me. Let him go."
Lyle ignored Jarod's plea, his hand steady, feeling the beat of Gemini's heart. Making sure he had the pretender's full attention he continued,
"Where?"
Jarod had to think fast. This is not how he had planned his evening. If Lyle had the boy, where was his father? More importantly, how did Alex know about this or was his hinting a bluff, knowing that Lyle would probably find some way to torment him? The visible injuries on the boy increased his anxiousness. He knew his dad would never give up without a fight, what if that meant he had given his life. He had to work something out with Lyle, find out some more information about the whereabouts of his father, and allow some leeway in the search for Parker.
Lyle’s hand sliced another inch across J’s exposed chest, his gaze never leaving the pretender.
“Lyle, wait.” Swallowing, Jarod continued, “I only have a general idea. I need to be there to find the place. If you sent your sweepers, they will only manage to get her killed. Alex will see them long before they’ll have any idea where she is.”
Jarod sighed in relief when the blond man stepped away from the boy. He could see the thin line etched into J’s pectoral muscle, blood slowly congealing on the cut.
Lyle sank to his haunches in front of Jarod; the knife making small circles on the material of his captive’s left leg.
“Why should I trust you to bring her back and not escape in the process?”
Lyle waited for Jarod, patient now that he knew he had his attention. He wanted Jarod to acknowledge that he was in control. He wanted the pretender to weight his options and find that he only had one course to take.
J shivered involuntarily, his mouth dry from the gag that had been forced in. The cut burned but was nothing compared to what he had been through the past two days. He ran the simulations and like Jarod, he knew the outcome of each action. He followed the play of words between the two men, knowing that Lyle had the upper hand. He was the prize, the tool that would ensure Jarod’s cooperation and final subjugation. And he could see that Jarod knew that.
Jarod watched Lyle rise, a demonic smile on the blond man's face. They had come to an agreement. Jarod will show him where Parker was, the boy’s life dependent on his cooperation. If he escaped or attempted escape while outside the Centre, the boy will die. Slowly.
**********
Reviews, as always, most welcome. ;-)
Thanks for all the great reviews. It really helps to keep me focused on new chapters. Hope you like it.
Choices
Safe house
"Margaret?" his voice failed to respond, and he tried again. It has been so long that he hadn't seen her; he didn't quite know how to respond. His legs were refusing to work, and he sat there staring at her like a love struck schoolboy.
"How…"
He still couldn’t find the words to respond. He watched in wonder when his wife took a step towards him, her arms raised, inviting him back to where he belonged. That was the catalyst. His legs grew strong again, his body young and vibrant. He jumped from the couch, crushing his wife to his chest. Tears flowed freely and he held her like he never wanted to let her go. The smell of her hair entered his nostrils, making him giddy. He had forgotten what they had smelled liked and that made him sad. He could not understand the mix of emotions that seemed to change easily within him. Sadness, happiness, life, regret. All those seemed to play around in his mind and heart.
Gently, he pushed her slightly away from him, tracing her eyes, nose and lips with his fingers. Relishing in the feel of them. His thumb pushed the tears to the side, his lips melting onto hers in a kiss so familiar he wondered why he had never gone mad with loneliness before. Finally letting go, he made sure he still had some physical contact with her.
She looked at him with joy and disbelief. Turning, she held onto his hand, pulling him towards the door. He heard a car door slam. He centred himself just in time to catch his daughter as she ran into his arms, hugging him tightly as she laughed out loud. Pulling his wife back into his embrace, he held on tightly to both.
Everything is going to be alright.
**********
The Centre – Renewal Wing
J didn't want to leave. He fought with everything he had but the walls kept crumbling. Shafts of light shone through cracks, creating paths of white that traced back to reality. The tugging was more insistent and couldn’t be ignored anymore. A silent scream escaped from his tortured soul, as his body fused to one of the paths, elongating and stretching the surroundings until he was no longer sure of any dimension, position or direction.
He opened his eyes.
Pain assaulted his senses. His chest felt like a jackhammer had chiselled into it. Looking down, he saw bruises that discoloured his flesh where the heart compressions had left their mark. An IV was connected to his left hand; his wrists encased in soft straps. One or two cuts had been stitched; his feet felt tight and warm. He guessed that it had probably been bandaged. A slight rustle made him aware of a person sitting in the corner to the right of him. The dark suit identified him as a sweeper and J turned slightly away from him. His chest was constricting and he had difficulty breathing. He felt surprise when sweat started to form, his hands forming fists. His body started to tremble, tears flowing silently from his eyes. Everything seemed too close, too tight, too near. He was faintly aware of a doctor coming in; a light shining in his pupils. He was trying to understand what was happening to him but it took too much effort. He was grateful when the faint prick brought him back to peace.
**********
The Centre – Renewal wing
"He did regain consciousness briefly. I am worried about his emotional state. He had a severe panic attack and I had to sedate him."
"I want him able to perform. You have six hours left, doctor. I suggest you get to work."
**********
Sydney's office
Broots knocked lightly on the open door. Entering the dimly lit room, he noticed Sydney sitting behind his desk, the flickering light from a DSA player skirting across his face. Jarod's young voice could be heard faintly and the deeper, accented voice of Sydney answering.
"Uh, Sydney, you wanted to see me."
Sydney reached his hand across, ending his musings, bringing his attention back to the present situation.
"Broots, I need you to find any footage of Jarod's cell of the past two days. I want you to run a loop through it, creating a ten minute copy."
Broots thought he had stepped into the twilight zone. Wondering if this was some sort of test, he looked around the office for any sign of Lyle.
"Broots, did you hear me?"
"Do you have any idea what would h…happen to me if I got caught doing that. L…Lyle's keeping very close guard on the DSA's that you want. I would h…have to break into his o…office a…and…"
"I'm well aware what you have to do, Broots. I'm sure that you will be able to get them undetected. I also need to know where they are keeping Jarod's clone. Apparently Mr White had returned him to the Centre last night."
"Sydney, w…what are you planning on doing? Or wait, I don't think I want to know."
"Something I should have done a long time ago. Broots, I need those DSA's."
Sinking into the chair, Broots tried to make sense of the sudden change in his world. Even without Miss Parker, he still managed to get himself into another compromising and dangerous situation. He'll do this for Miss Parker, he determined; his imagination having no problem with coming up with sentences she would use to urge him into another break-in. He was about to reply to Sydney’s request when the office door opened.
**********
Undisclosed vicinity
His ringing phone distracted him from the image on the screen. Miss Parker was facing away from the cameras, the blanket wrapped around her in a vain attempt to bring some comfort. His smile ended, a scowl replacing it when he saw the number that flashed on the phone’s screen.
“Yes.”
Listing to the voice, his eyes darkened slightly but never left the monitor.
“It won’t be long now. She should be ready in forty-eight hours.”
The voice continued, with him listening attentively until the caller ended the conversation. Leaning forward, he traced the immobile figure on the screen, remembering the touch of his fingertips on her silky skin.
“Soon.”
**********
The Centre - Simlab
Jarod rested his head on his arms; his food pushed to one side. Since his conversation with Alex, he had been grilled by Lyle on any knowledge he might have had on the other pretender. For now he was left alone, Willie sat by the door to ensure he stayed put. He had half a mind to tell Lyle that he knew where Miss Parker was but that would mean that any advantage he had, he would lose. It would mean new projects, new sims and he had some idea what would happen when he denied Lyle those. He was worried about the state that Miss Parker could be in. She had built so many barriers to protect herself that he had no idea what she would do when all of them were broken. He remembered one harrowing sim he had performed when he was a teenager and it scared him to think that Miss Parker might be going through the same process. He tried to push the memory down, but it was unsuccessful as the full force of it inserted itself into his consciousness.
He could feel the loneliness create a void around him. His mind felt overwhelmed with images of people. He tried to remember what it felt like to be able to touch another human being. His voice was hoarse from lack of use. He doubted that he would be able to string a sentence together when they found him, and that frightened him even more. He didn’t want to experience these feelings anymore.
“Jarod, concentrate. We need to know why this particular individual developed severe psychosis and anxiety problems.”
He thought he saw someone move in the corner. He wanted nothing more than to realise another person in the room. Someone to talk to, someone to touch. Focusing again on the corner he almost broke down when the same paint-spattered wall stood immobile with no person evident. Disappointed he decided to focus back on the happier times he had. His mind couldn’t seem to recall any of those supposed times, questions the only thing that inserted itself into those spaces. Why didn’t anyone want him anymore? What did he do wrong? Why did his parents hate him so much? Nobody will miss him if he’s gone. He had sat in the isolation chamber so long that when he finally whispered refuge he had managed to push himself too far. He remembered how startled he was to find people touching him, their words making no sense. He had thought them part of his dream, his hallucinations that had permeated the world he had created.
He remembered Sydney pull him from his spiralling thoughts. That sim had came very close to pushing him towards total rebellion and if he thinks back to it, the Centre had terminated that particular project, not wanting to risk him finding the truth. Now Miss Parker was in the same situation. He knew that Alex won’t just leave her isolated. He would use her own weakness against her, to terrorise her even further towards a nervous breakdown.
He had to get out of the Centre.
**********
Sydney’s office
“Lyle.”
“Sydney is there some crisis I should know about? If I read my memo correctly, you were told explicitly to stay away from the Centre today.”
Broots had no idea where to look or what to do. Lyle’s eyes traced back to him and he wilted under their implications. Looking towards Sydney for support, he felt slightly better when the psychiatrist refused to be intimidated by the younger man.
“I had some paper work I needed to finish. I was only told to stay away from Jarod and that I have complied with. Anything else I can do for you, Lyle.”
Lyle’s eyes narrowed, his right hand pulling on his leather glove.
“You two aren’t up to something, are you?”
Silence greeted the question, with Sydney settling himself behind his desk and Broots staring at the floor.
**********
Safe house – 13:00
All four of them were sitting around the kitchen table. Although Harry was a stranger, Charles did not mind. The man was courteous and fun to be around with and he was grateful for all Harry had done since they eluded Mr White. He couldn't stop staring at Margaret. They were both older, both emotionally hurt by what had happened in their past, but that seemed to fade with each smile they gave, with each gentle touch. Their fingers were intertwined, they had not let go of each other since they met.
He was content to sit and listen to their stories and what they had been doing since the forced split sixteen years ago. Now and again, the atmosphere was tainted by close shaves with Centre sweepers but it could not dampen their thankfulness for being together. He had yet to tell them about Jarod and J and was reluctant to spoil the moment. Finally, with his wife and daughter looking at him in anticipation, he told them about his and J’s capture, his lucky escape with the help from Harry and Jarod’s re-incarceration at the Centre. It felt so good not to carry the burden alone anymore. His tale finished with their plans to break the two boys out of the Centre's grasp. He felt Margaret's gentle hand turn his face, the world shrinking until all he could do was gaze into eyes full of understanding, grace and love. In that perfect moment, he knew that Jarod and J would escape, that their dreams of being a family will finally come true.
**********
Renewal Wing
“Son, I need you to wake up for me, ok.”
The words seemed so familiar, that J frowned. His eyes stayed closed, the feel of a cold compress against his hot forehead bringing back painful memories. Thinking it part of his dream, he murmured.
“Michael?”
“Its ok, son. You are safe here.”
J didn’t believe the voice. Safe did not include sweepers, and cuffs and death. Whimpering, he tried to ignore the insistent voice. The images from the room still assaulted his mind, sometimes so vivid that he could see every detail down to the pulsating darkness of man’s evil soul. It’s not who he is, he promised. It’s not him.
**********
Lyle's office
Broots was once again stuck in Lyle's bathroom. He heard Lyle's chair creak, the footsteps from the other man leading towards the bathroom door. His near panic turned into a sigh of relief when the phone rang. He had no idea how he would explain his presence to Miss Parker's brother; Lyle's last question still ringing in his mind. I have to be crazy to keep doing this to myself, he thought, listening closely when Lyle picked up the phone.
"This is Lyle."
"Good, let the boy rest. I'll be there at four."
Broots heard the click of the phone being returned to its cradle. He was looking around, trying to find a hiding place, the doorknob turning when another call made Lyle swear. Wiping his brow, Broots couldn’t believe his luck. He almost missed the one-sided conversation.
"Lyle."
"We have our agreement, Mr White… No, I don't see a reason to extend the contract."
"Fine, in light of the new information, you have until noon tomorrow."
Broots wondered what contract Lyle had with the albino. That guy freaked him out; he liked him even less than Cox. He heard Lyle's footsteps and was trying to think how to explain his presence when he heard the outer door close. He almost needed the bathroom himself.
**********
Johnny's diner – 14:30
The diner was typical, gaudy and tasteless but adequate for a meeting place between Sydney and Broots, away from any spying eyes of the Centre. They were seated in the last booth, a brown manila envelope lying on the table between them.
"I've found the boy. He has been taken to the infirmary late last night. Mary, one of the nurses – she's quite cute, have this dimple…oh right," Sydney's impatient look drew him back to the facts, "she says that the boy had flat-lined and they nearly lost him."
Sydney sat back, wondering how he was going to explain this to the Major. Their plan was made that more difficult due to Jarod's injury, now they had the boy's mobility to worry about too.
"Will they move him in the next twenty four hours?"
"She doesn't think so."
"Ok, have you managed to create surveillance loops from the DSA's?"
Broots slid a disc over to the older man, "This is a ten minute loop. The guards make a shift change for Jarod at one. The boy is a bit more difficult. They only brought him in yesterday."
"We will have to find a way around that. I'll speak to the Major and see what we can come up with. When are you meeting Jarod again?"
"Oh, that's the funny part. Lyle told me to take the afternoon off."
Sydney didn't want to think what the consequences for Jarod would be in the hands of Lyle with no one to stop the psychopath from dispensing his sense of justice. His worry increased, wondering in what state the pretender will be found tonight. He needed Jarod at least partially mobile if their plan was going to work. After the meeting finished, he made sure Broots had adequately protected himself from any possible suspicion by the Centre when Jarod and J's escape became public. He needed to speak to Harry to find out if the paramedic had access to any stimulants in case he needed to use it on Jarod. After that, all they needed to do was find Parker.
**********
Renewal Wing - 16:00
J finally opened his eyes. Everything was quiet, the chair empty where the sweeper had sat. He heard some movement outside his curtains, and he quickly closed his eyes again. When nothing happened, he reopened his eyes. The straps kept his hands at his sides but they were not that tight. If he could somehow manage to loosen them, he might be able to escape.
That thought terminated when the curtain was opened to reveal Lyle. He tried to close his eyes in order to feign sleep again, but it was too late. Shrinking into the bed, he tried to distance himself from the menacing presence. He remembered all too clearly his punishment for attacking the man in front of him and he didn't want to experience that claustrophobic room so soon again.
"I trust you have learned a little respect, Gemini."
He flinched when Lyle's hand came to rest on his arm. He could feel his breath quicken, his heartbeat heavy with dread. He turned his face away, trying to hide his panic when another image flashed across his mind again. He was not aware of the softly spoken words that left his lips,
"Make it stop."
Lyle's fingers made indentations on his chin, forcing him to face the other. J shivered, a shudder that left him painfully aware that he had no way of protecting himself against what the chairman’s son was planning. His hands were clammy, his muscles tight. He wished his dad was here and that only made him more aware of what the Centre were capable of.
“I have a project I want you to do for me.”
J wanted nothing more than to be back in his safe place. At least there, he had some rest from the visual bombarding of violence that flashed across his memory. He tried to will himself back there, disappointment settling in his stomach when he found himself still staring at the other man. Lyle stepped back, allowing two sweepers to start loosening his straps. J swallowed, his fear palpable but under control. The sweepers pulled him upright, forcing his body to stand between theirs. He held his head upright, trying to keep up with his two guardians.
He blanched when he saw the door that Lyle opened. Struggling, he tried to escape from the bruising grips of the sweepers. He managed to pull one arm partially free from a fist. Twisting and turning, they boy ignored all commands. His movements became more frantic, the closer they came to his concurrent nightmare. A fist to his kidneys left him gasping and limp, allowing the sweepers to pull him inside. The sight of the chair brought renewed fighting, one word following each other as he voiced his fear and agitation. They had to work hard to strap him into the chair.
Panting, he felt blood drip from a cut that had been reopened above his eyebrow. He could feel it trickle down the side of his face, creating a thin trail of wetness that tickled. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry of laugh at the absurdity of it all. He tried to wriggle his fingers, watching in fascination as they swelled. The straps pinched his skin, so tight he knew that it would hurt when they removed it again. He tried to ignore Lyle’s footsteps; he tried to ignore how the room made him feel.
The flashback came so rapid, so vicious that he had no time to protect himself. It drove him further from Lyle's presence, forcing him to close his eyes and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Riding it, he tried to stay ahead of the menacing image, the screams in his head real.
Breathing erratically, he became aware of fingernails that dug cruelly into his chin. Acknowledging, his eyes fluttered before they focused on Lyle again.
“Do you still want to fight your destiny or are you ready to embrace it. I’m sure that we still have some footage left that you have not yet seen.”
J wanted to hurt Lyle. He wanted to pound all his frustration and fear into that smirking face till nothing was left but a bloody mess. He wanted to resist, to be strong like Jarod but the thought of witnessing the destruction of people again made his stomach tighten to the point that he could feel its contents burn upwards. He started to shiver, unable to stop his body’s response to his fear. Lyle started to leave, the speakers humming with anticipation and he couldn’t help it. The traitorous words left his lips, trembling like the coward he thought he was.
“No, please.”
He could feel Lyle’s pleasure at his surrender. He heard the steady footsteps until Lyle entered his vision. He couldn’t raise his eyes; he felt shame burn from his face, and he tried to shrink even further away from the cruel words that vibrated in his head. Lyle’s disfigured hand pulled his face upward till he was forced to make eye contact with the blond man. The question came dangerously, whispering promises if unheard.
“Are we going to have any problems receiving your full cooperation?”
A defeated answer slipped from his lips, burning acidly when they left his tongue, “No, sir.”
J felt Lyle tap his face, the touch as unwelcome as the attention. He heard Lyle’s whispers of scornful praise before the man left, and he hated himself for giving in.
**********
Simlab – 17:00
Jarod was seated at the table, his head bent over a piece of paper. He had spent the afternoon working with another tech until he left about thirty minutes ago. He had made his way to the table, glad for the respite. Continuing with his notes, he actively thought of ways to fool the Centre and get Parker before Alex could carry out his plans. Surreptitiously, he made sure that he couldn’t be seen by the camera and Willie, his right hand slowly bending a sliver of metal into shape. Satisfied, he inserted the small piece inside the bandage that covered his left wrist. His plans were now falling into place and all he needed was a drug free night.
Two sweepers entered the Simlab, walking over to where the pretender was seated. Lyle entered behind them, with a smile on his face and a relaxed stance. Jarod tried to ignore the two burly men that stood next to him, dropping his hands so that they gripped his armrests.
"Jarod, there is something I want to show you."
Lyle tried hard, but he couldn’t keep the mocking triumph out of his voice.
"I'd rather skip it, thanks."
Jarod’s grip tightened, his knuckles white from the pressure of his muscles. He had no idea what Lyle had planned. He thought something like this would happen when Broots hadn't returned for the afternoon session, and he needed to stay fairly uninjured if he wanted to have an adequate chance of escape.
The hands of the sweepers dropped onto his shoulders, heavy and unyielding. He couldn’t see Willie; the dark man had disappeared somewhere behind him and he could hear the rustle of his clothes.
"Oh, I think you will want to see this."
Jarod had no time to react. Willie dropped the black hood over his face, jerking the string closed. His hands came up to jerk it from his face and was stopped by the grips from the sweepers when the wrenched him upwards, away from his seat.
"Lyle, I'll…" was stopped in mid sentence becoming a grunt of pain, when his arms were pulled behind and upward. The cold steel of cuffs clinked around his wrists, creating a numbing pain to the bruises and cuts. They pushed him forward, his leg shooting darts of pain every time he was forced to put pressure on it. He tried to hop on one foot but that was unsuccessful, the pace too fast for him to keep up. He couldn't see, only aware of the grips of the sweepers and Lyle's footsteps in front of him.
Jarod heard a door open, Lyle's footsteps coming to a halt on the other side. He knew what was coming but still couldn’t prevent the violent shove that sent him careering over the threshold. His injured leg folded under him, his shoulder contacting hard against the floor. The black cloth twisted with the fall, pulling tight against his face. Lifting his head released the tightness a bit, allowing the gathering panic in his chest to dissipate. He lay still, trying to get his breathing under control. He heard movement in front of him. Tensing, he waited, shifting slightly when the movement stopped. .
Slowly, he moved into a seating position. He tried to listen where Lyle was. Pins and needles were shooting painfully up his arms; he could feel the blood from one of the deeper cuts seeping through the bandage that covered his wrist. His left leg was trembling uncontrollably. He straightened his leg to bring some relieve, the spasms only slightly abating. Lyle's smooth question came from somewhere in front of him, a question he had not expected.
"I think you have been holding out on us, Jarod. How long have you known the location of Parker?"
Taking a deep breath, he answered with a pretender's guile, "I don't know what you're talking about. Don't you think if I knew I would have told you?" He projected confusion in his voice, and made his body language communicate uncertainty and fear.
"Come now, Jarod. We both know you're a lot smarter than that. Between you and me, how long did it take you before you had Parker in your sights?"
Shaking his head, Jarod sensed someone else in the room. The person was behind him, trying to be quiet. He heard a footstep, and blinked rapidly when the hood was removed. Lyle was leaning against the wall, relaxed; his smile evil. He was studying him, waiting for a reaction that Jarod had no desire to give. Refusing to answer the previous question, he took in his surroundings. It was a normal Centre Simlab, albeit smaller than usual but no different. The two sweepers stood by the door and he did not plan on obliging Lyle to use them. He could still feel the presence behind him and was loathe turning away from Lyle. His curiosity won out and he shifted sideways, one eye on the blond man and sweepers.
Jarod had no idea what he had wanted to try and do. He was cuffed and lame and still he tried to get to Lyle. He started to rise; only to have his leg gave way. He dropped onto his right knee, his other leg folded next to it. He ignored the renewed pain that flooded his senses, trying to come to terms with Lyle's change in tactics. Settling into a seated position again he looked over to the boy that was seated to the left of him. He had straps across his body, legs and arms that held him immobile. The reason there was no sound was because J had been gagged; he could see the checkered pattern of the filthy rag sticking from behind the dark cloth that kept it in J's mouth. Jarod could trace the path that silent tears had made - between and over a mirage of cuts that ranged from recent to day old ones - down the boy's face, increasing his hatred for Lyle even more. He was dressed only in Centre-issued cargo-pants; his chest a mosaic of fading bruises. The boy's feet were encased in dirty, unravelling bandages. One ear had been nicked by a bullet, the missing part forever a reminder. All those he could somehow accept, what he couldn't was the dullness and defeat that the boy's eyes proclaimed. Whatever had been done, it must have been horrendous to let J – who had survived fourteen years under Raines – look like a shell-shock survivor of the Blitz.
Jarod turned his attention back to the smiling man against the wall. His eyes glared his hatred and distaste for the man in front of him. He now had some idea what Lyle had planned and he had to push down on the frustration that was beginning to surface. He watched as the blond man pushed from the wall, walking past him towards the boy. Lyle's left hand emerged from his pocket, holding a knife. Keeping his gaze, Lyle slowly opened the serrated seven-inch blade. Jarod started to rise in anger, the warning look from Lyle forcing him to resettle on the floor. He tried to reassure J, hoping to divert the boy’s attention from the weapon in Lyle’s hand.
"Jarod, you haven't answered my previous question."
Lyle pushed the knife against the boy's skin enough to break the skin, holding it there, waiting for the pretender. The boy's muscles flexed under his resting hand, the only sound breaking the stillness the harsh breathing from J. He started a shallow cut, relishing in the silent squirming of his victim till Jarod's voice stopped his hand.
"This morning! I've known since this morning. Lyle, please…you have me. Let him go."
Lyle ignored Jarod's plea, his hand steady, feeling the beat of Gemini's heart. Making sure he had the pretender's full attention he continued,
"Where?"
Jarod had to think fast. This is not how he had planned his evening. If Lyle had the boy, where was his father? More importantly, how did Alex know about this or was his hinting a bluff, knowing that Lyle would probably find some way to torment him? The visible injuries on the boy increased his anxiousness. He knew his dad would never give up without a fight, what if that meant he had given his life. He had to work something out with Lyle, find out some more information about the whereabouts of his father, and allow some leeway in the search for Parker.
Lyle’s hand sliced another inch across J’s exposed chest, his gaze never leaving the pretender.
“Lyle, wait.” Swallowing, Jarod continued, “I only have a general idea. I need to be there to find the place. If you sent your sweepers, they will only manage to get her killed. Alex will see them long before they’ll have any idea where she is.”
Jarod sighed in relief when the blond man stepped away from the boy. He could see the thin line etched into J’s pectoral muscle, blood slowly congealing on the cut.
Lyle sank to his haunches in front of Jarod; the knife making small circles on the material of his captive’s left leg.
“Why should I trust you to bring her back and not escape in the process?”
Lyle waited for Jarod, patient now that he knew he had his attention. He wanted Jarod to acknowledge that he was in control. He wanted the pretender to weight his options and find that he only had one course to take.
J shivered involuntarily, his mouth dry from the gag that had been forced in. The cut burned but was nothing compared to what he had been through the past two days. He ran the simulations and like Jarod, he knew the outcome of each action. He followed the play of words between the two men, knowing that Lyle had the upper hand. He was the prize, the tool that would ensure Jarod’s cooperation and final subjugation. And he could see that Jarod knew that.
Jarod watched Lyle rise, a demonic smile on the blond man's face. They had come to an agreement. Jarod will show him where Parker was, the boy’s life dependent on his cooperation. If he escaped or attempted escape while outside the Centre, the boy will die. Slowly.
**********
Reviews, as always, most welcome. ;-)
