Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Thanks for all the great reviews; this one is a bit long but could not find myselfto cut scenes or break the chap in two. Enjoyed writing this one and worked hard on it. Really hope you like it. ;-)
Survival
He could just make out the start of a red glow about a mile ahead of him. The need for stealth very obviously gone, he started a fast walk on the barely seen path. The vibration of his phone brought him to a halt.
"Lyle."
The sweeper on the other side did not want to be the messenger. Inside the Centre the bearer of bad news tended to end up down in the incinerator. They had to draw straws to decide who would call Lyle and he had lost. Kicking the body in front of him to vent, he began.
"Sir, Mr White is dead. The house and surrounding area is empty and there is no sign of the Russell family."
The only sign of his anger was in the hardening of his eyes and the thin line that edged into his lips. His voice came in a low, dangerous tone.
"You lost them?"
Swallowing, and for good measure kicking the body again, he answered in the hope that he would see the sunrise.
"Yes, sir."
Hoping that any information would save his life he continued with one fact he did know, "What we did find was blood, it looks like someone was shot."
"I want a team to search all surrounding hospitals and clinics for a gunshot victim. Tell them it's your sister or brother, I don't care… but I want them found."
Lyle was angered by the Albino's failure to deliver on his contract. Not only would his plans have to be put on hold, it also meant he had to put his fantasies of using Jarod's family to get the Pretender to cooperate fully, on hold. A small consolation inserted itself into his mind. Jarod will pay for his family's escape.
**********
“So you survived?”
“Lyle.”
Jarod met Lyle’s cold gaze, his eyes travelling to the gun in the blond man’s hand and back up again. A small sigh left him, reminding him that he was far from safe.
“Get up.”
Winching, Jarod sat up, aware of the igniting flame in his leg. Biting his lip to hold back a groan of pain, he pushed himself from the ground. His leg buckled beneath him, unable to support his tired body. Parker caught him just before he reacquainted his body with the ground again. His weight nearly dragged her with him; he could feel her tremble in her effort to keep him upright. She pulled his arm around her shoulder, her other hand encircling his waist. Her gaze challenged Lyle, daring him to say anything. With a disgusted snort, Lyle holstered his gun.
“Tom, take over before both of them end up back on the ground.”
The driver stepped closer, his grip more secure around Jarod’s waist. With the driver on one side and Parker on the other, they made their way slowly back to the car, Lyle’s impatience evident when he called in for a Centre helicopter.
“No, don’t do this…”
He was seated in the car. His right arm was around Parker who had nestled into his body. She was in an exhausted sleep, unaware of those around her. They were waiting for the helicopter; the need for subterfuge no longer required. Jarod tried to shift into a more comfortable position without waking Parker when Lyle’s hand settled on Jarod’s trembling left leg. The blond man tightened his grip, his blue eyes never leaving Jarod’s. Leaning forward, Lyle’s whispers filtered through the pain into his ears.
“You are my property. Do not ever let me run after you again.”
“Where’s Sydney? I want to see…”
He watched them take her from him. It didn’t matter that both of them needed medical assistance, he more than she. All he could think of was that he couldn’t protect her anymore. The prick as the IV line was connected failed to break his stare, trying to keep her in his sights for as long as possible. He lifted his head, the dark spread of her hair on the gurney his last vision before it too faded into nothingness.
“I won’t do this…NO….no…
“You are aware of the consequences if you don’t allow me to stabilise his leg.”
The smooth voice of Lyle interrupted, the meaning intent. Through his drug-induced haze, Jarod was vaguely aware of a hand on his leg. Possessive, meaningful. His confused eyes failed to focus, the figure a blur. He did hear the words before things faded to blessed nothingness again.
“I don’t want him able to run again…”
“Please forgive me, J…I can’t….J?”
There was a corner in his cell that was safe, if safe was something to be said about the Centre. It was the width of his bed, the shadows that were created by the bare light bulb forming a small triangle of darkness by the foot end. His bruised body barely fit into the space but it was the only solace he had. He tried to disappear in that corner of darkness, making himself small when the familiar steps followed by the clang of his door announced the presence of the sweepers. The already knew where he would be, their hands grabbing him roughly by the arms, dragging him to where Lyle waited…
“Anything….”
“If you want to know about daddy, you have to trust me.”
“You…”
He watched them strap in the boy. He watched them leave the room. He watched them tear J’s soul in two.
“Want…”
“Are you ready to do the simulation, Jarod?”
“Mr. Lyle.”
The red, blinking light was his only companion. Their silent vigil recorded his grief each time when he was brought back. They had become his only true reality.
**********
Miss Parker’s room – One week later
“Miss Parker, are you ready?”
Blue eyes followed Sydney into the room. Seated by the bed, her face was unreadable. The squeak of Raines’s oxygen tank announced the chairman behind him. Turning, Sydney pushed his hands into his pockets. His gaze on Raines was steady, his hands forming fists as he restrained himself from wringing the ghoul’s neck.
“You…should reconsider…this decision…Miss Parker. The Centre…had always…looked after…the Parkers. You’re mother…”
A dangerous glint formed in her eyes. Holding on to the bed, she rose unsteadily but with such grace that for a moment left Sydney speechless. That movement reminded him so much of Catherine and their last fateful meeting before she had faked her own death in the elevator.
“is dead because of the Centre.”
The few steps it took her to enter Raines’ personal space drew heavily on her resources. Ignoring the rubber feeling in her legs, she faked a smile as she leaned in. Her hand pushed down on the air hose, effectively closing down all oxygen to his lungs.
“I suggest you go back to whatever dank hellhole you had crawled from before my demented brother becomes the new chairman.”
For two seconds they silently confronted before Raines bowed out. A faint tint of blue had settled on his lips when Miss Parker let go. They left under Raines’ gaze, as the ailing man tried to get his breathing back under control.
**********
Sydney's office – 9 days later
Closing and locking his office door, Sydney allowed his worry for Jarod and J to surface for the first time. The boy had disappeared from the Infirmary the night that the rescue was supposed to have taken place and Jarod taken somewhere outside the Centre by Lyle. The boy was still missing; Broots had been unable so far to find any mention of him in any of the Centre archives. Jarod had been taken to the Infirmary with the rescued Miss Parker that next morning. He had tried to get access to the Pretender but had been denied any interaction with him. He had been repeatedly warned that if they caught him with Jarod, that his prodigy would be the one that would suffer the consequences of his disobedience. He had been prepared even then to try and find a way, but the mental and physical health of Miss Parker had forced him to make a choice for that moment. When she had been sufficiently stabilised, he had Broots disable the camera's to Jarod's room. He had entered in the dead of night, hoping to have a chance to speak to the younger man only to find the room empty. Now, it was a week later and Raines had resolutely ignored all his questions and pleadings. He had Broots canvassing all systems to try to see if they could determine where the two Pretenders were being kept.
A soft glint of light on metal drew his attention away from his current thoughts. Part of an unmarked DSA glinted from underneath some paper he had left on his desk. Frowning, he picked up the disc, trying to decide why it had been left. A faint bang from the air duct made him smile. Angelo. Sliding it into the pocket of his shirt, he grabbed his jacket. It was time to find Broots.
**********
Jarod was barely conscious, hoping that if he convinced Lyle and the sweepers that if he wasn't present anymore that they would leave him alone. He heard the sound of a fist connecting with flesh and the grunt of pain from J. For the moment their focus had moved from him to the boy. He was tired beyond compare; he had no idea when the last time was that he had had an unbroken three hours of sleep. His body was riddled with cuts and bruises, a cracked tibia in his left leg left him cripple and unable to walk on his own. His obedience and cooperation was given in an effort to protect both him and J from further abuse.
Lyle had made sure that he had fully understood that to try and protect the boy would lead only to more punishment for J. He had been forced to watch the abuse that the sweepers had inflicted without emotion the first and only time he had dared to stand up to the blond man; increasing his guilt that ate at him from the inside out.
He tried to ignore the spasms that shot up his leg. Another thing he had learned quickly was that any movement brought attention and attention meant new ways for Lyle to enforce his ownership. His eyes closed, his breathing shallow while he lay on the cold cement floor trying to ignore the messages of pain his body was screaming at him. His ears picked up J's voice when the boy rumbled in agreement; repeating the words Lyle wanted to hear.
"I belong to the Centre. My sole purpose is to do as I'm told."
This was an automatic response that was given every time Lyle asked them who they were. That and other reinforced sentences were slowly eroding away his own sense of who he was. On some level he understood what Lyle was doing - that breaking them down physically helped to strengthen the psychological conditioning, but on another level he avoided the issue completely. He had found that to resist the ideas that Lyle was forcing down his throat lead to more pain for both him and the boy. The one or two times he had complied with their captor's demands without resistance had been rewarded with praise. He hated the way it made him feel; filthy and weak. He had only done two sims so far and then only to save the boy from the sensory room - his pet name for the small room that J was strapped in and then forced to endure repeated scenes of violence as punishment. His retraining was currently more important to Lyle than for the Centre to start profiting from his skills again.
He must have really blacked out for when he became aware of his surroundings again, he was alone with Lyle. He was on his side; his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. A dull throb started from somewhere between his shoulder blades, making its way upwards to his neck and a headache that didn’t want to go away. He could feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest when he inadvertently met the ice blue gaze of his handler. Averting his eyes, he tried to swallow the unwanted fear of punishment that was slowly spreading through his limbs. A hardback chair was placed by his head. Lyle slid his hand under his arms, pulling him from the floor onto the seat. A grunt of pain escaped from his mouth when a new cut was opened on his wrists. He could feel the sticky wetness seep from his wrists while Lyle positioned him on the chair. Keeping his head lowered in the hope to avoid setting the other man off, he waited while Lyle pulled leather straps tight across his chest and waist. He tried to shift slightly to elevate the pressure on his arms when Lyle stepped behind him.
"Jarod, you do know that all this is your fault. If you cooperated like you're supposed to, you would have saved yourself and the boy so much pain."
Sitting quietly, he tried to ignore the words and intention behind it. He tensed when Lyle's hand gripped his neck. The words were velvet, the air of their passing caressing his face like a lover.
"Tell me who I am?"
He knew what Lyle wanted. This was not the standard response that was to be given when others were present. This was something private that Lyle enjoyed hearing whenever they were alone together. If he bothered to look up, he knew that he would find this part of his "re-education" unrecorded. Keeping his gaze lowered, he answered dully.
"My owner and master. The one who knows what is best for me.”
“Very good, Jarod. You’re starting to learn.”
Lyle was thoughtful, a predatory smile evident on his face as he watched the play of muscles on Jarod’s bare back and neck.
Leaving Jarod seated, he fetched a glass of water he had one of the sweepers leave by the wall earlier. Lifting the pretender’s head, he pushed the glass against his lips, ordering him to drink. The other man obeyed, swallowing the cold liquid tentatively. A diluted sedative had been added to the water, enough to keep Jarod tired and malleable. It had taken one photo of a sleeping Miss Parker and the promise that she would experience the same drug in full strength - enough to send her into a coma - to enforce Jarod’s cooperation in drinking the liquid. Taking the empty glass from his lips, he waited until Jarod raised his eyes and met his gaze hesitantly before rewarding his captive with a smile.
“Good boy, Jarod.”
Putting the glass back against the wall, he returned to his property. It had taken nine days of sleep deprivation, physical abuse and threats to the clone to get Jarod to this point of conditioning. He reckoned another month and Jarod would belong to him - mind, body and soul. He had never forgotten his previous offer he had made to Jarod. With Jarod’s intelligence belonging to him coupled with his leadership skills, he would have everything he desired. And in that process, he would get rid of all obstacles that stood in his path to the top. Smiling at that thought, he pushed the Pretender’s head against the back, making sure he had the man’s attention.
“It’s time to start your training.”
**********
Miss Parker’s office
Broots wanted to throw up. He couldn’t watch anymore. His hand darted forward, shutting the screams into silence.
“W…what are they doing to them, Sydney?”
Sydney barely heard the question, stunned by the level to which Lyle was prepared to go to ensure that Jarod and the boy cooperated. The tech’s hand on his arm brought him back to the present.
“If this is any indication of how Jarod and J’s days are, we need to find them before it is too late. See if you can correlate any of the rooms we see on the DSA with schematics that we have of the Centre.”
Taking the DSA, Broots turned to leave.
“And Broots, be careful.”
**********
Sydney's home – 12 days later
Miss Parker slowly slid her legs over the side of the bed. Seated for the moment on the edge, she took a moment to listen to the everyday sounds that filled her room. The leaves rustling the big red oak that stood in front of her room bringing with it the twerp and chatter of birds flowing on the warm breeze that entered her open window. She could hear Sydney humming while the sounds of breakfast being prepared reminded her that it was egg and bacon day. The smell tingled her nostrils; her mouth watering at the thought of what was being prepared. Her toes curled on the thick carpet, the softness another reminder of how different things were. The call for breakfast in ten minutes woke her from her contemplations. Some of the old Miss Parker surfaced when she groaned in annoyance at the interruption of her thoughts before rising to face another day.
**********
The room was well lit, the neon lights chasing away any vestiges of shadows that could have survived. Four cameras sat snug in the corners recording all. A table sat in the centre of the bare room with two chairs around it. The door opened and two men entered. Big biceps bulged beneath their designer suits, violence barely contained. Between them hung another, his arms gripped in unconcerned hands. Unceremoniously he was dropped by the table, left with nothing, bare as the room. Shifting gradually upwards, he used the furniture to pull himself into a chair. His hands were cuffed; the bruises around the wrists a motley of darker and of faded yellow older ones. Newer cuts, scrubbed raw from overuse, overlied the history of older ones. His face was swollen, a recent cut on his cheek still dripping red. Slowly, his hands came up, wiping away the hurt. Eyes, brown and hard stared at the crimson dripping from fingers. Fascinated, he followed the path of his own blood. His eyes travelled after the dark, red drops that escaped his fingertips, ever downwards to hell.
**********
Comfort Inn
Major Charles was pacing the floor of his room, trying to calm himself with promises that he will find his two sons before it was too late. The rest of his family was safe; his daughter's injuries looked after by Harry and Margaret. He had moved them out of state to an old friend that had somehow stayed off the Centre's radar. Now he was back, waiting to meet with Sydney to discuss how they were going to proceed in rescuing his sons.
A knock brought his pacing to a halt. Two long steps took him to the door, his gun in his hand. Throwing a glance through the peep hole before opening the door he found not only Sydney but Miss Parker and the tech standing in front him. Immediately suspicious, he stood aside while they trooped inside, the gun still in his hand. Leaning out he looked left and right down the corridor. Satisfied that no other Centre personnel were evident, he closed the door and locked it. Turning towards the psychiatrist, he indicated the woman seated on the bed, the fact that it was his gun hand emphasising his mistrust.
"Why is she here? Haven't her family done enough."
"Major…" Sydney's soft, accented voice admonished before he was interrupted by Miss Parker.
"He has a point, Sydney." Her eyes met the steel grey of the Major's, her gaze as unwavering as his.
"I am well aware of what," grimacing, she continued tiredly, "my family has done. That does not mean that I condone their actions or agree with their methods. I…"
For the first time in her life she was unsure on how to proceed. She wanted to explain about her and Jarod, about turning points and making her mother proud, about life-changing decisions that brought light to her soul, about finding herself in love with the person she had been chasing for the past five year to bring back to an organisation that was hell bent on breaking his spirit. Suddenly ashamed of her past actions, she looked at her hands that rested on her lap, aware of the physical scars left behind from her time in Alex's lair. Rising her eyes back to the Major she saw his face soften although he didn't holster the gun.
"You're mother tried to help my family once…"
Turning his gaze from the woman back to Sydney, he asked brusquely to hide his own discomfort at the unwelcome memories that filled his mind.
"What have you found?"
"Jarod and the boy are not at the Centre. Lyle had them moved to some unknown location. It took us this long to figure out where."
"And"
Broots answered at Sydney's nod, spreading a blue print on the small table opposite the double bed.
"T…they are kept at D…donoterase."
**********
Donotarese
Lyle kept an eye on the unresponsive pretender, a phone pressed to his ear while his hand played with Jarod's dark hair.
"If you had done as I asked I wouldn't be worrying about my sister."
Listening to the other voice, his fingers tugged angrily, eliciting a soft moan from Jarod. He noticed the tell tale signs that his captive was slowly regaining his senses.
“Be careful, I might just forget our arrangement.”
Glancing at the camera to make sure it was inactive; he allowed his hand to drift from their playing with Jarod’s hair to settling on his shoulder.
“You have my permission to use whatever means you deem necessary, but get rid of her.”
Lifting the pretender’s head, he gazed at the closed eyes, taking note of the play of light on Jarod’s face.
“And Alex,”
Allowing Jarod’s head to drop back, he spoke his final warning.
“Do not disappoint me again.”
**********
Anger and frustration were never a good mix, especially where Alex was concerned. He threw the phone out the window, his only link to Lyle effectively terminated. He had never liked it when people underestimated him. The centre had done it, thinking he was sub par to Jarod; the Triumvirate at first before he showed them his capabilities and now Lyle. Their agreement had been one of convenience, the promise of working and moulding Parker enough for him to play the game.
Overtaking a small sedan, he cut in front of oncoming traffic. Tailgating slightly, he plucked the steering wheel to the left before gaining control again. The sharp movement stretched his arm muscles, the dull throb of the burns along his right arm expanding in a sudden sharp pain, reminding him once again of how Jarod had escaped and with him, his prize. He had wanted the dark man to watch as he moulded her into his; but like the previous time, Jarod had failed to do as was required.
It was time the pretender learned the consequences of taking what did not rightfully belong to him. The thought of what he planned brought some calm, the anger now only simmering. Slowing down, he pulled of the highway, the sun glinting on the cars parked in front of the inn he was aiming for. Entering the car park at a more leisurely pace, he pulled underneath a shady tree in the corner.
Timing was everything.
**********
The blue prints had made way for Broots' laptop, hard drives and optical discs taking up the small space that was left on the table. The tech was currently hunched over the computer, his fingers typing away, his concentration evident. Miss Parker and Major Charles were seated by the double bed on plastic chairs they asked for from management, papers surrounding their area. With a sense of pride, Broots leaned back and with flourish pushed the ‘enter’ button. His sigh of achievement when the programme started its run without a glitch, was not ignored.
"Is it working?"
Turning, he looked at Major Charles that had somehow moved from his chair to stand at his right shoulder. He was about to start when Miss Parker's voice was added,
"Now, Broots."
Turning to his left, he found the raised eyebrow of Miss Parker demanding an answer. A little overwhelmed with the attention he stammered an answer.
"Y…yes, i…it should w…work. I…I only need…to change t…the subroutines o…on L…Lyle's hard drive and i…it's finished."
It was about time that Lyle paid for his actions against her and Jarod. They had decided to set the blond man up for a major fall at the Centre, something not even he would be able to slither out of. Sydney and Broots had stolen Lyle's hard drive, leaving a cloned one in place for the time being. They were changing internal settings and logs to show Lyle sending sensitive and highly classified information to competitors for a second salary. They had set up a bank account offshore that showed a steady income over a period of the past year. An untraceable, anonymous email will be automatically sent with the relevant information when Broots had swapped the hard drives. Miss Parker hoped the shock of reading the mail would cause Raines an aneurism, highly unlikely but there is always hope.
"I'll let Sydney know that we are ready. It should take us around two hours to get to Donoterase."
The major's hand on her arm stopped her.
"Are you sure you are able to do this? Physically, I mean."
Miss Parker allowed a tight smile to surface, her eyes determined.
"I'll be fine."
Pulling her gun from the holster in her back, she expertly checked the chamber before returning it.
"Besides, I owe Jarod."
**********
It was safer to pretend. It was safer to do what was asked. It was safer not to care. Curling tight, J allowed exhaustion to take him away from the pain, hate and betrayal. Slowly, his bruised body relaxed, his breaths deepening until…
He opened his eyes.
It felt weird. He couldn't quite figure out what had happened. He was standing on a gravel road, green meadows stretching to the left and right of him as far as the eye could see. A slight breeze was caressing his face; a small dust devil followed a crooked path before moving off the road onto the grass. He could see the swirl of loose twigs and leaves dancing on the circle of swirling wind. Intrigued he watched the devil till it abruptly dissipated as quickly as it had started. Eyes turning upwards, he enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face, the blue sky dotted with white clouds. Returning his gaze to the ground, he looked straight ahead. The road meandered onwards, no end in sight. Wondering about his location, he turned a hundred and eighty degrees, his back now facing the other way.
In front of him loomed a dark castle, the sky streaked with red and orange, dark clouds roiling around the spindly towers that stretched upwards. Afraid, he took an involuntary step backwards and ended up a step closer. Frowning, he wondered if he had experienced the movement. More attentive now, he made sure that he took a step back. Again it seemed like he took a step forward. Not wanting to move closer to the darkness, he turned back to the sunshine and stretching road. He counted four steps, looking over his shoulder after each second one. He was still moving closer. Walking turned into running, hoping that speed would break the spell of going closer. When he looked back, he stood in front of the drawbridge. Swallowing, he stared past the black portcullis, the sharp points on the end of it grinning back at him. For the first time he became aware of what he was wearing. A light tunic covered his chest and arms, chain mail overlaid on top. His wore leather pants and light boots. Strapped to his side was a broad sword, the handle intricate, swirls and patterns formed around it.
Closing his hand around the handle, he drew the sword. Bringing the blade up to his face, he watched the play of light on the shining surface, aware of how comfortable the sword sat in his grip. Returning his attention to the surround area again, he noticed that in between the time it had taken him to draw the sword, he had somehow moved and now stood in the centre of a huge hallway. Big, double doors waited before him, the wood shiny and dark. Pressing with his full body, he managed to push one open. The door moved slowly inward with a groan that was deep and ominous.
A figure stood in the centre of the room, waiting. Tapestries hugged the walls, the interwoven pictures depicting hate, evil and death. Light flickered from the torches, spilling from the walls in menace. Then, a voice boomed around the chamber.
"I have been waiting for you."
His focus came back on the lone figure. His hands sweating on the grip, he had to swallow to get some saliva in his mouth to ask the question.
"Who are you?"
The figure stepped closer until it was a sword's length away. Lifting the helmet that covered his head, his eyes gleamed when he answered.
"I am Gemini."
**********
His patience was rewarded. He watched the trio enter the car, unaware of his presence. The screen next to him made small beep noises, showing him the location of the car. Smiling, he reset his seat to its proper setting, before starting the car and following the blinking red light on the screen.
**********
His stared in shock at his own mirror image, unable to comprehend what was happening. Whispering, he tried to understand what he was seeing.
"What do you want?"
His image stepped closer, the eyes hard and glinting with evil. His watched the other lift his sword, attacking with a mighty swing. He brought his sword up just in time, the clang vibrating around the room when the swords met, his arms jerking in shock. In that interlock Gemini leaned closer, his foul breath caressing J's face when he answered.
"Your life."
**********
They had parked the car in a small grove of trees just south of the compound. Although it was underground, they did not want a sweeper stumbling into the car by mistake. Her gun leading the way, Miss Parker followed Major Charles as they made their way to the barn and the hidden route he and Jarod had used previously to enter Donoterase. The smell of dung hit her nostrils and she grimaced at the invading stink. Sydney followed behind them, his backpack filled with medical supplies and a leg brace for Jarod. They only hoped that both pretenders would be physically able to walk. They did not have the resources or manpower for a full-scale attack.
She watched the Major lift the trapdoor, her eyes roving the inside of the barn for any tell tale signs of surveillance. Finding none, she followed them down the stairs.
**********
He awoke in turmoil to find a foot sinking into his side. Groaning, he looked up blearily at the figure that towered above him.
"Mr. Lyle wants to see you."
Swallowing his fear, he nodded in answer, careful to keep his eyes lowered. Painfully rising, he was sandwiched between two sweepers as they took him to the project room. Seating himself at the desk, he waited patiently for the other man. The familiar footsteps of the blond man settled in dread in the pit of his stomach. Rising, he stood quietly by the desk, his eyes lowered in respect as he was taught. No emotion played on his features; he had learned that if any were evident, it would be punished immediately and painfully.
"Gemini, you're training is nearly complete. This will be your final test."
Lyle watched for any sign that the boy tried to deny his destiny. When no rebellion became evident, he was pleased. The boy had been so much easier to manipulate than Jarod, the older pretender still a long way from J's current cooperation. Throwing the folder he had been carrying onto the table, he watched it slide across the top before it was stopped by the boy's hand.
"Open it."
J watched his hand open the folder. The first page was an A4 glossy photo. Staring back at him was his father…
"He is not our father; our only family is the Centre."
J stumbled backwards with each stroke the other gave, his hands vibrating with each swing he blocked.
**********
The first sweeper was not a problem. The moron had stopped in shock on seeing all three of them, his hand stuck in his holster when she took the two steps that was needed to bring her within range and knocked him into dreamland with the butt of her gun. Allowing the Major to drag the body into a disused storage room, she followed the directions Broots had drawn. Two more sweepers were taken down; one from the Major’s left hook, the other from behind, never knowing what had hit him. That left approximately four sweepers, an estimate that they could only glean from the records. They hoped.
**********
"I want you to find him. Will that be a problem?"
His fingers lightly caressed the lines of worry, the grey hair that flowed in waves around the forehead.
"You are weak… Emotions make you weak… Caring makes you weak."
He stumbled onto his buttocks, his one hand trying to keep his upper body of the floor, the other holding the sword trying to block the aggressive swings from the clone that came with each uttered sentence.
“Gemini!”
Startled, he looked up, briefly making contact with Lyle’s eyes. Swallowing, he averted his gaze back to the file and his…father?
Who taught him to shave.
Blocking, he shuffled back far enough to rise.
Who taught him how to live.
Taking a step forward, he counter-attacked.
Who taught him how to love.
Swinging, he watched the figure stumble and fall to its knees. Gasping, he stood over him, his other self. Drawing a deep breath, he made one statement as his sword rose.
“My name is,”
Swinging downwards, he felt the blade bit into flesh.
“J.”
A bright flash blinded him. When his eyes returned to normal, he found himself back on the road, both sides stretching towards the horizon and a possible future. Smiling, he took his first step.
Lyle watched in disbelief. The boy was changing before his eyes. He seemed to grow in height, becoming stronger. The eyes rose to meet his, their gaze clear and determined.
“No.”
Just that one word. It vibrated around the room, making sure all heard it and all understood. Lyle saw strength shine through the boy that he had only seen in Jarod. He almost took a step backward before remembering where he was. He was about to order the sweepers to punish Gemini when the sounds of gunshots reached his ears.
**********
Now leading the way, she stepped around the corner. A shout swung her head left, down the corridor to where a startled sweeper had his gun drawn. Dropping, she turned in one movement, her gun lining up on the man. His finger pulled the trigger in his death throes, the discharge loud in the closed area. The fourth sweeper made the mistake to investigate and she finished him with a cold professionalism that would have made her father proud. The adrenaline rushed through her, invigorating her senses to a high sense of awareness. Stepping over the two bodies, she looked into the room they had exited. Huddled against the wall was Jarod. He was semi-conscious, his body curled tight in a defensive position. She could count the scars and bruises on his body, his brown eyes barely focusing. Lyle will pay for this, she promised silently when she motioned to Sydney before kneeling by her childhood friend.
“Jarod,” gently she coaxed him, her hand moving down his face in an intimate caress. His eyes fluttered but he stayed unresponsive.
“Jarod, come on, you have to wake up now.”
Smiling at his slowly opening eyes, she continued to speak to him while Sydney worked on his most visible injuries that could hinder them in their escape.
“Hi, remember me.”
She saw the confusion in his dark brown eyes, a slight frown when he looked around the room. His gaze resettled on her, becoming clearer as the stimulant Sydney had injected began working. Painfully, his voice hoarse he said.
“I knew you would…come for me…Will you…never stop…chasing…me?”
Shaking her head in answer, she answered with a smile that was only ever meant for him.
“What do you think? I always get my man.”
He smiled before winching at the reminded injuries.
“Miss Parker, we still need to find J?”
Rising from the Pretender’s side, she nodded at the Major.
“Sydney, take Jarod to the entrance while we go find J. There’s only two rooms left, and for my brother’s sake I hope he isn’t in one of them.”
Following the corridor, she turned left. A swinging door warned her enough. She killed the fifth sweeper without remorse, Jarod’s injuries payment enough for the death. Slamming the door against the wall, she entered the room. It was empty except for a silent sweeper standing by a table. She could see the fear in the man’s eyes when her question came in a low growl.
“Where is the boy?”
“Lyle took him; h…he went out the east entrance.”
Her cold gaze settled on him, feeling his answer out for lies. She saw his eyes widen when she raised her gun eye level, narrowing her gaze.
“Turn around.”
His face went white, his eyes widening before he followed her command. Closing the door, she locked it on the still kneeling sweeper, pleading for his life.
**********
Pulling the boy tight against his body, he moved down the small path. The sound of his sister calling his name increased his fear. He was well aware that she would have no compunction to shoot him. Deciding that hiding was better than running, he crossed the clearing, veering towards his right. He only noticed the car when they were practically right on top of it. Thanking his good luck, he pushed the boy against the hot metal, holding him in place with his body. Checking the front door, he swore when it failed to open. Wiping his mouth, he looked around before the voice of his sister called to him again, this time closer. Looking wildly around him, he finally noticed some covering where thick underbrush hugged the ground. Pulling J with him, he made sure he was well covered while still able to watch the car.
He forced the boy onto his stomach under the brush, his knee pressing on Gemini’s back. Warning him to stay quiet and still, he pulled his tie from his neck and gagged the boy. Hearing the crunch of footsteps, he laid down next to Gemini, his one arm holding the boy tight against his body, the other pressing the gun into the small area where the jaw hinged into the skull. His mouth close to the boy’s ear, he breathed,
“Move and you’re dead.”
**********
Jarod and Sydney were slowly making their way towards where the car had been parked. His father had gone ahead, Miss Parker still trying to find any indication of where Lyle had taken the boy.
Jarod tried to keep up. He was leaning quiet heavily onto Sydney, unable to lighten his weight. His eyes was on his feet, counting his steps to freedom. The stimulant coursed through his blood, helping a bit with the pain and fatigue. Lifting his head, he was grateful to find the car parked about two hundred meters in front of him. Dropping it to his feet again, he concentrated on moving forward. He took one more step and his world changed.
He heard a dull sound and the grunt of pain from his father. His eyes rose to find his father barely conscious, blood dripping from a cut in this forehead. He was held upright by Alex, pulled tight against the sociopath’s body. A low moan of pain escaped when a gun was pushed against the Major’s temple.
“Jarod, long time no see.”
“As you can see, I did survive. I could have done without the burns, but you can’t have everything in life, now can you?”
Swallowing, Jarod could only stare, his mind numb from Lyle’s attempts at brainwashing and his physical abuse. He heard a step behind him, aware of her smell.
“So good of you to join us, Miss Parker. The conversation has so far been a little one sided. It looks Lyle really did a number on golden boy here.”
“Let my father go. This is between us.”
The words came slow, his mind heavy with fatigue and pain. All Jarod could think about was how helpless his father looked in Alex’s grip.
“No, Jarod. This was never something between us. If I were you, I would ask Lyle about Miss Parker’s captivity next time you see him. You see, we made a deal. He would get you, and well, Miss Parker and I…”
Alex smiled suggestively, a wink thrown at the woman standing behind the other two men, her gun focused on him.
“You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you.”
Alex pulled the Major closer, hiding behind the gun he held on him.
“I don’t think so Miss Parker. If you want Jarod to still have some semblance of a family life, i.e. a father I suggest you drop your gun.”
“I’m not insane. What makes you think I won’t make the shot?”
Alex smiled, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“You might kill me, but I wonder if Jarod would ever forgive you for getting his father killed in the process.”
Alex laughed; a sinister chuckle that filled Jarod with dread.
“All I want is you, Miss Parker. Jarod will go free when you come with me.”
No
“You have my word…”
**********
J could see the clearing. He saw his father in Alex’s grip, Jarod and Sydney watching, Miss Parker staring down her gun sights at the other. Slowly, he tried to shift but Lyle felt the movement. The gun pushed harder, reminding him of where he was. Tears starting to flow from his eyes, the only thing he could do was watch.
**********
“I’m getting tired of this. Either agree or not, but you have five seconds.”
She could see the increased tension on Alex’s finger; she could see Jarod’s body tense. Releasing her breath, she threw her gun to the side. Better to surrender herself and let Alex think he had won. What he didn’t know was that she had a spare strapped to her ankle, and she was very prepared to use it when the time came.
“Very good, Miss Parker. Now, step towards me with your hands behind your head.”
He shifted his stance slightly, still keeping the Major tight against his body. Addressing Jarod, the thought of what he was about to do filling him with glee.
**********
He watched Alex push his father to his knees. The scene was unfolding before his eyes and he could foresee only one outcome. Ignoring the man laying next to him he started to scream into the gag.
**********
Jarod could only stand numbly while Miss Parker stepped past him, her hands clutched behind her head.
Alex’s gaze met his, a demonic smile on his face.
“Just in case you ever wondered, Jarod.”
Focused on the cold, heartless gaze, his world dropped away at the next sentence.
“I am the villain in this story.”
The words died inside him, filling his soul as time stood still. He tried to reach for his dad, unbelief drowning all solutions. Alex’s eyes left his towards his father and he could only watch as the man’s finger tightened, becoming white as the pressure shut the blood vessels, nerves complying with commands. He thought he saw each miniscule millimeter as the trigger was slowly pulled.
His ears shocked into silence by the gunshot.
**********
Evil me…sorry. Only reviews will lead to the next chapter.
Thanks for all the great reviews; this one is a bit long but could not find myselfto cut scenes or break the chap in two. Enjoyed writing this one and worked hard on it. Really hope you like it. ;-)
Survival
He could just make out the start of a red glow about a mile ahead of him. The need for stealth very obviously gone, he started a fast walk on the barely seen path. The vibration of his phone brought him to a halt.
"Lyle."
The sweeper on the other side did not want to be the messenger. Inside the Centre the bearer of bad news tended to end up down in the incinerator. They had to draw straws to decide who would call Lyle and he had lost. Kicking the body in front of him to vent, he began.
"Sir, Mr White is dead. The house and surrounding area is empty and there is no sign of the Russell family."
The only sign of his anger was in the hardening of his eyes and the thin line that edged into his lips. His voice came in a low, dangerous tone.
"You lost them?"
Swallowing, and for good measure kicking the body again, he answered in the hope that he would see the sunrise.
"Yes, sir."
Hoping that any information would save his life he continued with one fact he did know, "What we did find was blood, it looks like someone was shot."
"I want a team to search all surrounding hospitals and clinics for a gunshot victim. Tell them it's your sister or brother, I don't care… but I want them found."
Lyle was angered by the Albino's failure to deliver on his contract. Not only would his plans have to be put on hold, it also meant he had to put his fantasies of using Jarod's family to get the Pretender to cooperate fully, on hold. A small consolation inserted itself into his mind. Jarod will pay for his family's escape.
**********
“So you survived?”
“Lyle.”
Jarod met Lyle’s cold gaze, his eyes travelling to the gun in the blond man’s hand and back up again. A small sigh left him, reminding him that he was far from safe.
“Get up.”
Winching, Jarod sat up, aware of the igniting flame in his leg. Biting his lip to hold back a groan of pain, he pushed himself from the ground. His leg buckled beneath him, unable to support his tired body. Parker caught him just before he reacquainted his body with the ground again. His weight nearly dragged her with him; he could feel her tremble in her effort to keep him upright. She pulled his arm around her shoulder, her other hand encircling his waist. Her gaze challenged Lyle, daring him to say anything. With a disgusted snort, Lyle holstered his gun.
“Tom, take over before both of them end up back on the ground.”
The driver stepped closer, his grip more secure around Jarod’s waist. With the driver on one side and Parker on the other, they made their way slowly back to the car, Lyle’s impatience evident when he called in for a Centre helicopter.
“No, don’t do this…”
He was seated in the car. His right arm was around Parker who had nestled into his body. She was in an exhausted sleep, unaware of those around her. They were waiting for the helicopter; the need for subterfuge no longer required. Jarod tried to shift into a more comfortable position without waking Parker when Lyle’s hand settled on Jarod’s trembling left leg. The blond man tightened his grip, his blue eyes never leaving Jarod’s. Leaning forward, Lyle’s whispers filtered through the pain into his ears.
“You are my property. Do not ever let me run after you again.”
“Where’s Sydney? I want to see…”
He watched them take her from him. It didn’t matter that both of them needed medical assistance, he more than she. All he could think of was that he couldn’t protect her anymore. The prick as the IV line was connected failed to break his stare, trying to keep her in his sights for as long as possible. He lifted his head, the dark spread of her hair on the gurney his last vision before it too faded into nothingness.
“I won’t do this…NO….no…
“You are aware of the consequences if you don’t allow me to stabilise his leg.”
The smooth voice of Lyle interrupted, the meaning intent. Through his drug-induced haze, Jarod was vaguely aware of a hand on his leg. Possessive, meaningful. His confused eyes failed to focus, the figure a blur. He did hear the words before things faded to blessed nothingness again.
“I don’t want him able to run again…”
“Please forgive me, J…I can’t….J?”
There was a corner in his cell that was safe, if safe was something to be said about the Centre. It was the width of his bed, the shadows that were created by the bare light bulb forming a small triangle of darkness by the foot end. His bruised body barely fit into the space but it was the only solace he had. He tried to disappear in that corner of darkness, making himself small when the familiar steps followed by the clang of his door announced the presence of the sweepers. The already knew where he would be, their hands grabbing him roughly by the arms, dragging him to where Lyle waited…
“Anything….”
“If you want to know about daddy, you have to trust me.”
“You…”
He watched them strap in the boy. He watched them leave the room. He watched them tear J’s soul in two.
“Want…”
“Are you ready to do the simulation, Jarod?”
“Mr. Lyle.”
The red, blinking light was his only companion. Their silent vigil recorded his grief each time when he was brought back. They had become his only true reality.
**********
Miss Parker’s room – One week later
“Miss Parker, are you ready?”
Blue eyes followed Sydney into the room. Seated by the bed, her face was unreadable. The squeak of Raines’s oxygen tank announced the chairman behind him. Turning, Sydney pushed his hands into his pockets. His gaze on Raines was steady, his hands forming fists as he restrained himself from wringing the ghoul’s neck.
“You…should reconsider…this decision…Miss Parker. The Centre…had always…looked after…the Parkers. You’re mother…”
A dangerous glint formed in her eyes. Holding on to the bed, she rose unsteadily but with such grace that for a moment left Sydney speechless. That movement reminded him so much of Catherine and their last fateful meeting before she had faked her own death in the elevator.
“is dead because of the Centre.”
The few steps it took her to enter Raines’ personal space drew heavily on her resources. Ignoring the rubber feeling in her legs, she faked a smile as she leaned in. Her hand pushed down on the air hose, effectively closing down all oxygen to his lungs.
“I suggest you go back to whatever dank hellhole you had crawled from before my demented brother becomes the new chairman.”
For two seconds they silently confronted before Raines bowed out. A faint tint of blue had settled on his lips when Miss Parker let go. They left under Raines’ gaze, as the ailing man tried to get his breathing back under control.
**********
Sydney's office – 9 days later
Closing and locking his office door, Sydney allowed his worry for Jarod and J to surface for the first time. The boy had disappeared from the Infirmary the night that the rescue was supposed to have taken place and Jarod taken somewhere outside the Centre by Lyle. The boy was still missing; Broots had been unable so far to find any mention of him in any of the Centre archives. Jarod had been taken to the Infirmary with the rescued Miss Parker that next morning. He had tried to get access to the Pretender but had been denied any interaction with him. He had been repeatedly warned that if they caught him with Jarod, that his prodigy would be the one that would suffer the consequences of his disobedience. He had been prepared even then to try and find a way, but the mental and physical health of Miss Parker had forced him to make a choice for that moment. When she had been sufficiently stabilised, he had Broots disable the camera's to Jarod's room. He had entered in the dead of night, hoping to have a chance to speak to the younger man only to find the room empty. Now, it was a week later and Raines had resolutely ignored all his questions and pleadings. He had Broots canvassing all systems to try to see if they could determine where the two Pretenders were being kept.
A soft glint of light on metal drew his attention away from his current thoughts. Part of an unmarked DSA glinted from underneath some paper he had left on his desk. Frowning, he picked up the disc, trying to decide why it had been left. A faint bang from the air duct made him smile. Angelo. Sliding it into the pocket of his shirt, he grabbed his jacket. It was time to find Broots.
**********
Jarod was barely conscious, hoping that if he convinced Lyle and the sweepers that if he wasn't present anymore that they would leave him alone. He heard the sound of a fist connecting with flesh and the grunt of pain from J. For the moment their focus had moved from him to the boy. He was tired beyond compare; he had no idea when the last time was that he had had an unbroken three hours of sleep. His body was riddled with cuts and bruises, a cracked tibia in his left leg left him cripple and unable to walk on his own. His obedience and cooperation was given in an effort to protect both him and J from further abuse.
Lyle had made sure that he had fully understood that to try and protect the boy would lead only to more punishment for J. He had been forced to watch the abuse that the sweepers had inflicted without emotion the first and only time he had dared to stand up to the blond man; increasing his guilt that ate at him from the inside out.
He tried to ignore the spasms that shot up his leg. Another thing he had learned quickly was that any movement brought attention and attention meant new ways for Lyle to enforce his ownership. His eyes closed, his breathing shallow while he lay on the cold cement floor trying to ignore the messages of pain his body was screaming at him. His ears picked up J's voice when the boy rumbled in agreement; repeating the words Lyle wanted to hear.
"I belong to the Centre. My sole purpose is to do as I'm told."
This was an automatic response that was given every time Lyle asked them who they were. That and other reinforced sentences were slowly eroding away his own sense of who he was. On some level he understood what Lyle was doing - that breaking them down physically helped to strengthen the psychological conditioning, but on another level he avoided the issue completely. He had found that to resist the ideas that Lyle was forcing down his throat lead to more pain for both him and the boy. The one or two times he had complied with their captor's demands without resistance had been rewarded with praise. He hated the way it made him feel; filthy and weak. He had only done two sims so far and then only to save the boy from the sensory room - his pet name for the small room that J was strapped in and then forced to endure repeated scenes of violence as punishment. His retraining was currently more important to Lyle than for the Centre to start profiting from his skills again.
He must have really blacked out for when he became aware of his surroundings again, he was alone with Lyle. He was on his side; his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. A dull throb started from somewhere between his shoulder blades, making its way upwards to his neck and a headache that didn’t want to go away. He could feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest when he inadvertently met the ice blue gaze of his handler. Averting his eyes, he tried to swallow the unwanted fear of punishment that was slowly spreading through his limbs. A hardback chair was placed by his head. Lyle slid his hand under his arms, pulling him from the floor onto the seat. A grunt of pain escaped from his mouth when a new cut was opened on his wrists. He could feel the sticky wetness seep from his wrists while Lyle positioned him on the chair. Keeping his head lowered in the hope to avoid setting the other man off, he waited while Lyle pulled leather straps tight across his chest and waist. He tried to shift slightly to elevate the pressure on his arms when Lyle stepped behind him.
"Jarod, you do know that all this is your fault. If you cooperated like you're supposed to, you would have saved yourself and the boy so much pain."
Sitting quietly, he tried to ignore the words and intention behind it. He tensed when Lyle's hand gripped his neck. The words were velvet, the air of their passing caressing his face like a lover.
"Tell me who I am?"
He knew what Lyle wanted. This was not the standard response that was to be given when others were present. This was something private that Lyle enjoyed hearing whenever they were alone together. If he bothered to look up, he knew that he would find this part of his "re-education" unrecorded. Keeping his gaze lowered, he answered dully.
"My owner and master. The one who knows what is best for me.”
“Very good, Jarod. You’re starting to learn.”
Lyle was thoughtful, a predatory smile evident on his face as he watched the play of muscles on Jarod’s bare back and neck.
Leaving Jarod seated, he fetched a glass of water he had one of the sweepers leave by the wall earlier. Lifting the pretender’s head, he pushed the glass against his lips, ordering him to drink. The other man obeyed, swallowing the cold liquid tentatively. A diluted sedative had been added to the water, enough to keep Jarod tired and malleable. It had taken one photo of a sleeping Miss Parker and the promise that she would experience the same drug in full strength - enough to send her into a coma - to enforce Jarod’s cooperation in drinking the liquid. Taking the empty glass from his lips, he waited until Jarod raised his eyes and met his gaze hesitantly before rewarding his captive with a smile.
“Good boy, Jarod.”
Putting the glass back against the wall, he returned to his property. It had taken nine days of sleep deprivation, physical abuse and threats to the clone to get Jarod to this point of conditioning. He reckoned another month and Jarod would belong to him - mind, body and soul. He had never forgotten his previous offer he had made to Jarod. With Jarod’s intelligence belonging to him coupled with his leadership skills, he would have everything he desired. And in that process, he would get rid of all obstacles that stood in his path to the top. Smiling at that thought, he pushed the Pretender’s head against the back, making sure he had the man’s attention.
“It’s time to start your training.”
**********
Miss Parker’s office
Broots wanted to throw up. He couldn’t watch anymore. His hand darted forward, shutting the screams into silence.
“W…what are they doing to them, Sydney?”
Sydney barely heard the question, stunned by the level to which Lyle was prepared to go to ensure that Jarod and the boy cooperated. The tech’s hand on his arm brought him back to the present.
“If this is any indication of how Jarod and J’s days are, we need to find them before it is too late. See if you can correlate any of the rooms we see on the DSA with schematics that we have of the Centre.”
Taking the DSA, Broots turned to leave.
“And Broots, be careful.”
**********
Sydney's home – 12 days later
Miss Parker slowly slid her legs over the side of the bed. Seated for the moment on the edge, she took a moment to listen to the everyday sounds that filled her room. The leaves rustling the big red oak that stood in front of her room bringing with it the twerp and chatter of birds flowing on the warm breeze that entered her open window. She could hear Sydney humming while the sounds of breakfast being prepared reminded her that it was egg and bacon day. The smell tingled her nostrils; her mouth watering at the thought of what was being prepared. Her toes curled on the thick carpet, the softness another reminder of how different things were. The call for breakfast in ten minutes woke her from her contemplations. Some of the old Miss Parker surfaced when she groaned in annoyance at the interruption of her thoughts before rising to face another day.
**********
The room was well lit, the neon lights chasing away any vestiges of shadows that could have survived. Four cameras sat snug in the corners recording all. A table sat in the centre of the bare room with two chairs around it. The door opened and two men entered. Big biceps bulged beneath their designer suits, violence barely contained. Between them hung another, his arms gripped in unconcerned hands. Unceremoniously he was dropped by the table, left with nothing, bare as the room. Shifting gradually upwards, he used the furniture to pull himself into a chair. His hands were cuffed; the bruises around the wrists a motley of darker and of faded yellow older ones. Newer cuts, scrubbed raw from overuse, overlied the history of older ones. His face was swollen, a recent cut on his cheek still dripping red. Slowly, his hands came up, wiping away the hurt. Eyes, brown and hard stared at the crimson dripping from fingers. Fascinated, he followed the path of his own blood. His eyes travelled after the dark, red drops that escaped his fingertips, ever downwards to hell.
**********
Comfort Inn
Major Charles was pacing the floor of his room, trying to calm himself with promises that he will find his two sons before it was too late. The rest of his family was safe; his daughter's injuries looked after by Harry and Margaret. He had moved them out of state to an old friend that had somehow stayed off the Centre's radar. Now he was back, waiting to meet with Sydney to discuss how they were going to proceed in rescuing his sons.
A knock brought his pacing to a halt. Two long steps took him to the door, his gun in his hand. Throwing a glance through the peep hole before opening the door he found not only Sydney but Miss Parker and the tech standing in front him. Immediately suspicious, he stood aside while they trooped inside, the gun still in his hand. Leaning out he looked left and right down the corridor. Satisfied that no other Centre personnel were evident, he closed the door and locked it. Turning towards the psychiatrist, he indicated the woman seated on the bed, the fact that it was his gun hand emphasising his mistrust.
"Why is she here? Haven't her family done enough."
"Major…" Sydney's soft, accented voice admonished before he was interrupted by Miss Parker.
"He has a point, Sydney." Her eyes met the steel grey of the Major's, her gaze as unwavering as his.
"I am well aware of what," grimacing, she continued tiredly, "my family has done. That does not mean that I condone their actions or agree with their methods. I…"
For the first time in her life she was unsure on how to proceed. She wanted to explain about her and Jarod, about turning points and making her mother proud, about life-changing decisions that brought light to her soul, about finding herself in love with the person she had been chasing for the past five year to bring back to an organisation that was hell bent on breaking his spirit. Suddenly ashamed of her past actions, she looked at her hands that rested on her lap, aware of the physical scars left behind from her time in Alex's lair. Rising her eyes back to the Major she saw his face soften although he didn't holster the gun.
"You're mother tried to help my family once…"
Turning his gaze from the woman back to Sydney, he asked brusquely to hide his own discomfort at the unwelcome memories that filled his mind.
"What have you found?"
"Jarod and the boy are not at the Centre. Lyle had them moved to some unknown location. It took us this long to figure out where."
"And"
Broots answered at Sydney's nod, spreading a blue print on the small table opposite the double bed.
"T…they are kept at D…donoterase."
**********
Donotarese
Lyle kept an eye on the unresponsive pretender, a phone pressed to his ear while his hand played with Jarod's dark hair.
"If you had done as I asked I wouldn't be worrying about my sister."
Listening to the other voice, his fingers tugged angrily, eliciting a soft moan from Jarod. He noticed the tell tale signs that his captive was slowly regaining his senses.
“Be careful, I might just forget our arrangement.”
Glancing at the camera to make sure it was inactive; he allowed his hand to drift from their playing with Jarod’s hair to settling on his shoulder.
“You have my permission to use whatever means you deem necessary, but get rid of her.”
Lifting the pretender’s head, he gazed at the closed eyes, taking note of the play of light on Jarod’s face.
“And Alex,”
Allowing Jarod’s head to drop back, he spoke his final warning.
“Do not disappoint me again.”
**********
Anger and frustration were never a good mix, especially where Alex was concerned. He threw the phone out the window, his only link to Lyle effectively terminated. He had never liked it when people underestimated him. The centre had done it, thinking he was sub par to Jarod; the Triumvirate at first before he showed them his capabilities and now Lyle. Their agreement had been one of convenience, the promise of working and moulding Parker enough for him to play the game.
Overtaking a small sedan, he cut in front of oncoming traffic. Tailgating slightly, he plucked the steering wheel to the left before gaining control again. The sharp movement stretched his arm muscles, the dull throb of the burns along his right arm expanding in a sudden sharp pain, reminding him once again of how Jarod had escaped and with him, his prize. He had wanted the dark man to watch as he moulded her into his; but like the previous time, Jarod had failed to do as was required.
It was time the pretender learned the consequences of taking what did not rightfully belong to him. The thought of what he planned brought some calm, the anger now only simmering. Slowing down, he pulled of the highway, the sun glinting on the cars parked in front of the inn he was aiming for. Entering the car park at a more leisurely pace, he pulled underneath a shady tree in the corner.
Timing was everything.
**********
The blue prints had made way for Broots' laptop, hard drives and optical discs taking up the small space that was left on the table. The tech was currently hunched over the computer, his fingers typing away, his concentration evident. Miss Parker and Major Charles were seated by the double bed on plastic chairs they asked for from management, papers surrounding their area. With a sense of pride, Broots leaned back and with flourish pushed the ‘enter’ button. His sigh of achievement when the programme started its run without a glitch, was not ignored.
"Is it working?"
Turning, he looked at Major Charles that had somehow moved from his chair to stand at his right shoulder. He was about to start when Miss Parker's voice was added,
"Now, Broots."
Turning to his left, he found the raised eyebrow of Miss Parker demanding an answer. A little overwhelmed with the attention he stammered an answer.
"Y…yes, i…it should w…work. I…I only need…to change t…the subroutines o…on L…Lyle's hard drive and i…it's finished."
It was about time that Lyle paid for his actions against her and Jarod. They had decided to set the blond man up for a major fall at the Centre, something not even he would be able to slither out of. Sydney and Broots had stolen Lyle's hard drive, leaving a cloned one in place for the time being. They were changing internal settings and logs to show Lyle sending sensitive and highly classified information to competitors for a second salary. They had set up a bank account offshore that showed a steady income over a period of the past year. An untraceable, anonymous email will be automatically sent with the relevant information when Broots had swapped the hard drives. Miss Parker hoped the shock of reading the mail would cause Raines an aneurism, highly unlikely but there is always hope.
"I'll let Sydney know that we are ready. It should take us around two hours to get to Donoterase."
The major's hand on her arm stopped her.
"Are you sure you are able to do this? Physically, I mean."
Miss Parker allowed a tight smile to surface, her eyes determined.
"I'll be fine."
Pulling her gun from the holster in her back, she expertly checked the chamber before returning it.
"Besides, I owe Jarod."
**********
It was safer to pretend. It was safer to do what was asked. It was safer not to care. Curling tight, J allowed exhaustion to take him away from the pain, hate and betrayal. Slowly, his bruised body relaxed, his breaths deepening until…
He opened his eyes.
It felt weird. He couldn't quite figure out what had happened. He was standing on a gravel road, green meadows stretching to the left and right of him as far as the eye could see. A slight breeze was caressing his face; a small dust devil followed a crooked path before moving off the road onto the grass. He could see the swirl of loose twigs and leaves dancing on the circle of swirling wind. Intrigued he watched the devil till it abruptly dissipated as quickly as it had started. Eyes turning upwards, he enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face, the blue sky dotted with white clouds. Returning his gaze to the ground, he looked straight ahead. The road meandered onwards, no end in sight. Wondering about his location, he turned a hundred and eighty degrees, his back now facing the other way.
In front of him loomed a dark castle, the sky streaked with red and orange, dark clouds roiling around the spindly towers that stretched upwards. Afraid, he took an involuntary step backwards and ended up a step closer. Frowning, he wondered if he had experienced the movement. More attentive now, he made sure that he took a step back. Again it seemed like he took a step forward. Not wanting to move closer to the darkness, he turned back to the sunshine and stretching road. He counted four steps, looking over his shoulder after each second one. He was still moving closer. Walking turned into running, hoping that speed would break the spell of going closer. When he looked back, he stood in front of the drawbridge. Swallowing, he stared past the black portcullis, the sharp points on the end of it grinning back at him. For the first time he became aware of what he was wearing. A light tunic covered his chest and arms, chain mail overlaid on top. His wore leather pants and light boots. Strapped to his side was a broad sword, the handle intricate, swirls and patterns formed around it.
Closing his hand around the handle, he drew the sword. Bringing the blade up to his face, he watched the play of light on the shining surface, aware of how comfortable the sword sat in his grip. Returning his attention to the surround area again, he noticed that in between the time it had taken him to draw the sword, he had somehow moved and now stood in the centre of a huge hallway. Big, double doors waited before him, the wood shiny and dark. Pressing with his full body, he managed to push one open. The door moved slowly inward with a groan that was deep and ominous.
A figure stood in the centre of the room, waiting. Tapestries hugged the walls, the interwoven pictures depicting hate, evil and death. Light flickered from the torches, spilling from the walls in menace. Then, a voice boomed around the chamber.
"I have been waiting for you."
His focus came back on the lone figure. His hands sweating on the grip, he had to swallow to get some saliva in his mouth to ask the question.
"Who are you?"
The figure stepped closer until it was a sword's length away. Lifting the helmet that covered his head, his eyes gleamed when he answered.
"I am Gemini."
**********
His patience was rewarded. He watched the trio enter the car, unaware of his presence. The screen next to him made small beep noises, showing him the location of the car. Smiling, he reset his seat to its proper setting, before starting the car and following the blinking red light on the screen.
**********
His stared in shock at his own mirror image, unable to comprehend what was happening. Whispering, he tried to understand what he was seeing.
"What do you want?"
His image stepped closer, the eyes hard and glinting with evil. His watched the other lift his sword, attacking with a mighty swing. He brought his sword up just in time, the clang vibrating around the room when the swords met, his arms jerking in shock. In that interlock Gemini leaned closer, his foul breath caressing J's face when he answered.
"Your life."
**********
They had parked the car in a small grove of trees just south of the compound. Although it was underground, they did not want a sweeper stumbling into the car by mistake. Her gun leading the way, Miss Parker followed Major Charles as they made their way to the barn and the hidden route he and Jarod had used previously to enter Donoterase. The smell of dung hit her nostrils and she grimaced at the invading stink. Sydney followed behind them, his backpack filled with medical supplies and a leg brace for Jarod. They only hoped that both pretenders would be physically able to walk. They did not have the resources or manpower for a full-scale attack.
She watched the Major lift the trapdoor, her eyes roving the inside of the barn for any tell tale signs of surveillance. Finding none, she followed them down the stairs.
**********
He awoke in turmoil to find a foot sinking into his side. Groaning, he looked up blearily at the figure that towered above him.
"Mr. Lyle wants to see you."
Swallowing his fear, he nodded in answer, careful to keep his eyes lowered. Painfully rising, he was sandwiched between two sweepers as they took him to the project room. Seating himself at the desk, he waited patiently for the other man. The familiar footsteps of the blond man settled in dread in the pit of his stomach. Rising, he stood quietly by the desk, his eyes lowered in respect as he was taught. No emotion played on his features; he had learned that if any were evident, it would be punished immediately and painfully.
"Gemini, you're training is nearly complete. This will be your final test."
Lyle watched for any sign that the boy tried to deny his destiny. When no rebellion became evident, he was pleased. The boy had been so much easier to manipulate than Jarod, the older pretender still a long way from J's current cooperation. Throwing the folder he had been carrying onto the table, he watched it slide across the top before it was stopped by the boy's hand.
"Open it."
J watched his hand open the folder. The first page was an A4 glossy photo. Staring back at him was his father…
"He is not our father; our only family is the Centre."
J stumbled backwards with each stroke the other gave, his hands vibrating with each swing he blocked.
**********
The first sweeper was not a problem. The moron had stopped in shock on seeing all three of them, his hand stuck in his holster when she took the two steps that was needed to bring her within range and knocked him into dreamland with the butt of her gun. Allowing the Major to drag the body into a disused storage room, she followed the directions Broots had drawn. Two more sweepers were taken down; one from the Major’s left hook, the other from behind, never knowing what had hit him. That left approximately four sweepers, an estimate that they could only glean from the records. They hoped.
**********
"I want you to find him. Will that be a problem?"
His fingers lightly caressed the lines of worry, the grey hair that flowed in waves around the forehead.
"You are weak… Emotions make you weak… Caring makes you weak."
He stumbled onto his buttocks, his one hand trying to keep his upper body of the floor, the other holding the sword trying to block the aggressive swings from the clone that came with each uttered sentence.
“Gemini!”
Startled, he looked up, briefly making contact with Lyle’s eyes. Swallowing, he averted his gaze back to the file and his…father?
Who taught him to shave.
Blocking, he shuffled back far enough to rise.
Who taught him how to live.
Taking a step forward, he counter-attacked.
Who taught him how to love.
Swinging, he watched the figure stumble and fall to its knees. Gasping, he stood over him, his other self. Drawing a deep breath, he made one statement as his sword rose.
“My name is,”
Swinging downwards, he felt the blade bit into flesh.
“J.”
A bright flash blinded him. When his eyes returned to normal, he found himself back on the road, both sides stretching towards the horizon and a possible future. Smiling, he took his first step.
Lyle watched in disbelief. The boy was changing before his eyes. He seemed to grow in height, becoming stronger. The eyes rose to meet his, their gaze clear and determined.
“No.”
Just that one word. It vibrated around the room, making sure all heard it and all understood. Lyle saw strength shine through the boy that he had only seen in Jarod. He almost took a step backward before remembering where he was. He was about to order the sweepers to punish Gemini when the sounds of gunshots reached his ears.
**********
Now leading the way, she stepped around the corner. A shout swung her head left, down the corridor to where a startled sweeper had his gun drawn. Dropping, she turned in one movement, her gun lining up on the man. His finger pulled the trigger in his death throes, the discharge loud in the closed area. The fourth sweeper made the mistake to investigate and she finished him with a cold professionalism that would have made her father proud. The adrenaline rushed through her, invigorating her senses to a high sense of awareness. Stepping over the two bodies, she looked into the room they had exited. Huddled against the wall was Jarod. He was semi-conscious, his body curled tight in a defensive position. She could count the scars and bruises on his body, his brown eyes barely focusing. Lyle will pay for this, she promised silently when she motioned to Sydney before kneeling by her childhood friend.
“Jarod,” gently she coaxed him, her hand moving down his face in an intimate caress. His eyes fluttered but he stayed unresponsive.
“Jarod, come on, you have to wake up now.”
Smiling at his slowly opening eyes, she continued to speak to him while Sydney worked on his most visible injuries that could hinder them in their escape.
“Hi, remember me.”
She saw the confusion in his dark brown eyes, a slight frown when he looked around the room. His gaze resettled on her, becoming clearer as the stimulant Sydney had injected began working. Painfully, his voice hoarse he said.
“I knew you would…come for me…Will you…never stop…chasing…me?”
Shaking her head in answer, she answered with a smile that was only ever meant for him.
“What do you think? I always get my man.”
He smiled before winching at the reminded injuries.
“Miss Parker, we still need to find J?”
Rising from the Pretender’s side, she nodded at the Major.
“Sydney, take Jarod to the entrance while we go find J. There’s only two rooms left, and for my brother’s sake I hope he isn’t in one of them.”
Following the corridor, she turned left. A swinging door warned her enough. She killed the fifth sweeper without remorse, Jarod’s injuries payment enough for the death. Slamming the door against the wall, she entered the room. It was empty except for a silent sweeper standing by a table. She could see the fear in the man’s eyes when her question came in a low growl.
“Where is the boy?”
“Lyle took him; h…he went out the east entrance.”
Her cold gaze settled on him, feeling his answer out for lies. She saw his eyes widen when she raised her gun eye level, narrowing her gaze.
“Turn around.”
His face went white, his eyes widening before he followed her command. Closing the door, she locked it on the still kneeling sweeper, pleading for his life.
**********
Pulling the boy tight against his body, he moved down the small path. The sound of his sister calling his name increased his fear. He was well aware that she would have no compunction to shoot him. Deciding that hiding was better than running, he crossed the clearing, veering towards his right. He only noticed the car when they were practically right on top of it. Thanking his good luck, he pushed the boy against the hot metal, holding him in place with his body. Checking the front door, he swore when it failed to open. Wiping his mouth, he looked around before the voice of his sister called to him again, this time closer. Looking wildly around him, he finally noticed some covering where thick underbrush hugged the ground. Pulling J with him, he made sure he was well covered while still able to watch the car.
He forced the boy onto his stomach under the brush, his knee pressing on Gemini’s back. Warning him to stay quiet and still, he pulled his tie from his neck and gagged the boy. Hearing the crunch of footsteps, he laid down next to Gemini, his one arm holding the boy tight against his body, the other pressing the gun into the small area where the jaw hinged into the skull. His mouth close to the boy’s ear, he breathed,
“Move and you’re dead.”
**********
Jarod and Sydney were slowly making their way towards where the car had been parked. His father had gone ahead, Miss Parker still trying to find any indication of where Lyle had taken the boy.
Jarod tried to keep up. He was leaning quiet heavily onto Sydney, unable to lighten his weight. His eyes was on his feet, counting his steps to freedom. The stimulant coursed through his blood, helping a bit with the pain and fatigue. Lifting his head, he was grateful to find the car parked about two hundred meters in front of him. Dropping it to his feet again, he concentrated on moving forward. He took one more step and his world changed.
He heard a dull sound and the grunt of pain from his father. His eyes rose to find his father barely conscious, blood dripping from a cut in this forehead. He was held upright by Alex, pulled tight against the sociopath’s body. A low moan of pain escaped when a gun was pushed against the Major’s temple.
“Jarod, long time no see.”
“As you can see, I did survive. I could have done without the burns, but you can’t have everything in life, now can you?”
Swallowing, Jarod could only stare, his mind numb from Lyle’s attempts at brainwashing and his physical abuse. He heard a step behind him, aware of her smell.
“So good of you to join us, Miss Parker. The conversation has so far been a little one sided. It looks Lyle really did a number on golden boy here.”
“Let my father go. This is between us.”
The words came slow, his mind heavy with fatigue and pain. All Jarod could think about was how helpless his father looked in Alex’s grip.
“No, Jarod. This was never something between us. If I were you, I would ask Lyle about Miss Parker’s captivity next time you see him. You see, we made a deal. He would get you, and well, Miss Parker and I…”
Alex smiled suggestively, a wink thrown at the woman standing behind the other two men, her gun focused on him.
“You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you.”
Alex pulled the Major closer, hiding behind the gun he held on him.
“I don’t think so Miss Parker. If you want Jarod to still have some semblance of a family life, i.e. a father I suggest you drop your gun.”
“I’m not insane. What makes you think I won’t make the shot?”
Alex smiled, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“You might kill me, but I wonder if Jarod would ever forgive you for getting his father killed in the process.”
Alex laughed; a sinister chuckle that filled Jarod with dread.
“All I want is you, Miss Parker. Jarod will go free when you come with me.”
No
“You have my word…”
**********
J could see the clearing. He saw his father in Alex’s grip, Jarod and Sydney watching, Miss Parker staring down her gun sights at the other. Slowly, he tried to shift but Lyle felt the movement. The gun pushed harder, reminding him of where he was. Tears starting to flow from his eyes, the only thing he could do was watch.
**********
“I’m getting tired of this. Either agree or not, but you have five seconds.”
She could see the increased tension on Alex’s finger; she could see Jarod’s body tense. Releasing her breath, she threw her gun to the side. Better to surrender herself and let Alex think he had won. What he didn’t know was that she had a spare strapped to her ankle, and she was very prepared to use it when the time came.
“Very good, Miss Parker. Now, step towards me with your hands behind your head.”
He shifted his stance slightly, still keeping the Major tight against his body. Addressing Jarod, the thought of what he was about to do filling him with glee.
**********
He watched Alex push his father to his knees. The scene was unfolding before his eyes and he could foresee only one outcome. Ignoring the man laying next to him he started to scream into the gag.
**********
Jarod could only stand numbly while Miss Parker stepped past him, her hands clutched behind her head.
Alex’s gaze met his, a demonic smile on his face.
“Just in case you ever wondered, Jarod.”
Focused on the cold, heartless gaze, his world dropped away at the next sentence.
“I am the villain in this story.”
The words died inside him, filling his soul as time stood still. He tried to reach for his dad, unbelief drowning all solutions. Alex’s eyes left his towards his father and he could only watch as the man’s finger tightened, becoming white as the pressure shut the blood vessels, nerves complying with commands. He thought he saw each miniscule millimeter as the trigger was slowly pulled.
His ears shocked into silence by the gunshot.
**********
Evil me…sorry. Only reviews will lead to the next chapter.
