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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: Ditto the disclaimer in chapter 1.
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Seizing Destiny
Part 5
09/14/04
-
Miss Parker checked her reflection in the mirror once more. She had debated with herself about how to dress, finally choosing the tailored slacks and silk blouse she now wore. The rust colored wool pants weren’t as professional as she would normally wear to the Centre. But neither were they the casual attire that she lounged around in on a regular Saturday morning. Satisfied with what she saw, Parker turned from the mirror as she tucked her handgun into the waistband at the small of her back.
Sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, Parker gazed down at the sleeping man. Jarod had barely moved during the night. He had whimpered pitifully once or twice while Parker watched over him but for the most part he had been quiet.
Parker hated to wake him. Physically he was in much better shape than he had been. His temperature had returned to normal and his pulse and respiration were steady and even. But Parker knew that the emotional damage was far from repaired. It would take much more than a single night of drugged sleep to ease that pain.
“Jarod,” Parker called softly. When there was no response, she reached out and carefully shook his shoulder. “Jarod,” she repeated.
As though he had suddenly been jolted with a live electrical wire, Jarod snapped into consciousness. He gasped, throwing up his arms in a defensive gesture.
“Easy. You’re safe,” Parker reassured him.
For a moment, Jarod seemed disoriented. He glanced around frantically, unsure of his surroundings. When he raised his head from the pillow and met Parker’s gaze, the soft frightened eyes found recognition.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he said mournfully.
Parker shook her head. “No.”
With a heavy sigh, Jarod let his head fall back and he stared at the ceiling. A full minute passed in complete silence. Then with a moan, Jarod rolled into a sitting position and buried his face in his hands.
“Good lord,” he groaned. “What did you give me?”
Parker’s lips curled slightly. “Valium,” she explained. “Low dose, only 3 milligrams, with a bourbon chaser.” She shrugged and added, “It didn’t take much to knock you out. You were already a little shocky and about ready to fall down.”
Jarod looked up and gazed sightlessly out the bedroom window. “My mother?” he asked softly.
“With a coroner I know who owes me a favor,” Parker told him. “He’ll keep her with the Jane Does until we can manufacture the right paperwork.”
Jarod’s dark eyes swung toward Parker but didn’t quite reach her face. Instead he stared at some spot just passed her right elbow. “Thank you, Miss Parker,” he said.
Again, silence reigned for several moments. With a sigh Parker asked, “Are you going to be all right?”
Jarod worried his lower lip between his teeth. He took deep calming breaths in an attempt to stave off the tears that were threatening in his eyes. “I honestly don’t know,” he replied in a forlorn voice.
Placing a reassuring hand on Jarod’s arm, Parker said gently, “I need you to do two things for me, Jarod.” She waited for him to glance up at her before continuing. “First, I need you to get dressed.”
Jarod nodded his acquiescence.
“Second,” she went on. “I need you to trust me for the next thirty minutes or so. Can you do that, Jarod? Can you trust me for just a little while?”
They stared at each other for a moment before Jarod finally shrugged offhandedly. “Why not?” he said. “I owe you one.”
“Good.” Parker stood and handed Jarod a pile of clothing. “Be quick about it,” she commanded. Just then, the front doorbell rang.
“The sweepers are here,” Jarod grumped.
“Not exactly,” Parker said, earning herself a troubled frown from the pretender. She had crossed the bedroom and was headed into the hallway when Jarod spoke again.
“Parker,” he called. “You are being awfully nice to me.”
Parker raised her eyebrows. “Feels a little strange, eh?” she asked.
“Creeps me out,” he answered. “Quit it.”
Flashing Jarod a genuine smile, Parker said, “You don’t give the orders around here, Pez-head. Hurry up and get dressed.”
Parker rushed to the livingroom. As she peered through the peephole, she took out her gun and flipped off the safety. She slid a round into the chamber before unlocking the door and opening it for her brother.
Lyle blinked in surprise as he stared down the barrel of Miss Parker’s weapon.
“Someone’s a little cranky this morning,” Lyle drawled. “What’s the matter, Sis? Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“Give it,” Parker snapped. Gesturing with her gun she reiterated. “Your sidearm. Hand it over.”
“Why do you think I’d be packing? We are family after all.” Lyle smiled encouragingly.
Parker rolled her eyes, not buying it for a moment. “Don’t make me frisk you, Lyle,” she snarled. “I will conduct a cavity search if you force me to.”
With an insolent shrug, Lyle reached into his coat and carefully removed his pistol from a shoulder holster. He handed it to Parker butt first. She took it, checked the chamber and removed the clip. Then she carelessly tossed the weapon into a nearby drawer.
“You’ll get it back when we’re done,” Parker said as she stepped back and allowed her twin to enter.
Parker showed her brother into the livingroom and nodded him toward the couch. Rather than sitting, Parker stood, her gun held casually at her side. She was every bit the Centre ice queen that Lyle had always known.
“No coffee?” Lyle asked, trying to irritate her and gain the upper hand.
“Small talk isn’t really our niche, Lyle,” she said coolly.
Lyle nodded. “Right. Down to business then.” Leaning forward, Lyle produced a thick blue folder and handed it to Miss Parker. “The proof I promised you,” he explained.
Parker recognized this type of classified information. The last time she had seen a Z-3 file, she had been standing in this very same spot. But then, the folder had been labeled “rumor” where this one had “enigma” emblazoned across the first page.
“Daddy’s code name is ‘enigma’,” Parker said aloud as she flipped through the first several pages of the file.
“Enigma killed my mother,” a low voice growled from the other side of the room. Jarod stood in the archway that led to the hall. He stood with his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
At the sound of the pretender’s voice, Lyle sprang from the couch. “What the hell?” he cried. Lyle jumped forward trying to grab the other man. Jarod reacted as one would expect. He crouched into a defensive position and raised his fists.
For a moment, confusion reigned. The two men glared at each other as Miss Parker jostled between them. “STOP!” she yelled at them. Holding up her gun she said, “I am the only one armed here, and I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in a couple kneecaps if that’s what it takes.”
Lyle glanced from Jarod to Miss Parker. She wasn’t the least bit surprised by Jarod’s presence. “Damn it,” Lyle hissed. “You two have been plotting together all along.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Parker snapped. “I got home last night and found Jarod on my doorstep. Ready to turn himself in as a matter of fact.”
“And you didn’t call anyone,” Lyle accused.
“Of course not,” Parker replied angrily. “We’ll have a hell of a time taking control if we hand the keys back to Raines. Don’t you agree?”
Lyle’s glance flashed back to his quarry. Jarod’s expression was hard and inscrutable.
“Sit down.” Parker commanded. “Jarod is the key, remember? Always has been. It might be wise to keep such a valuable prize for ourselves.”
Still eyeing the others warily, Lyle eased back down to the couch. “How did you convince him to cooperate?” Lyle asked.
“I haven’t yet,” Parker stated simply. Turning her attention back to the file, Parker turned the page and frowned. As understanding dawned on her, Parker closed her eyes and sighed heavily. When she looked up, she could see the question in Jarod’s eyes. “Tommy,” she explained.
“Enigma killed my mother,” Jarod repeated forcefully.
“Join the club,” Lyle scoffed, his voice thick with derision.
This comment brought Parker’s head up in astonishment. “What?”
Lyle’s face broke out in a wicked smile. Now the tables were turned and he was the one surprising her. “You heard me. It’s all there. Check out the notation made in April, 1970.”
As Parker found the pages Lyle had mentioned, an angry exhalation hissed from between her teeth. Tension crackled in the air until it was nearly visible. Jarod took a cautious step forward, not wanting to get too close but needing to offer support.
“Bastard,” she ground through a clenched jaw. With a snap, Parker closed the file and thrust it in Jarod’s direction.
The pretender scanned through the pages rapidly. When he looked up, hard dark eyes met steely gray ones. “He must pay for what he has done to us,” Jarod said.
“He will pay,” Parker replied. Her tone was cold and dangerous.
Lyle, smiling evilly, looked from his sister to Jarod and back again. “And how do you suggest we go about collecting what is owed?”
“Simple,” Parker told him. “We do what they have taught us to do.”
Lyle and Jarod glanced at one another uncertainly.
“Think about it,” Parker said with an exasperated rolling of her eyes. “We have been trained all our lives, molded to fit the Centre’s purposes. In the past, that purpose has been to further the ambition of others.”
“But now it will be our turn,” Lyle added.
“Yes,” Parker agreed. “And if we three are working together, there is nothing they will be able to do to stop us.” Her eyes sparkled with confidence. “They will be faced with their worst fear.”
“Us,” Jarod nodded. His eyes widened as the realization struck him. “All these years, they have intentionally pitted us against each other. By stirring up antagonism between us, they have been able to prevent any collaboration.”
“We are the Red files after all.” Parker crossed her arms and glared thoughtfully at the folder in Jarod’s grasp. “Individually, we are a variable that must be dealt with. Together, any two of us would become a dangerous rival.”
“But we,” Lyle said with an encompassing gesture. “Make three Red files.”
“Four,” Jarod corrected. A crafty grin curled one side of his mouth. “Angelo will join us.”
“We will hurt them where it hurts the most,” Parker promised. “We will take the Centre right from under their noses. Anyone who opposes us will be swatted away like flies.”
Lyle sat back and crossed his arms. Raising one eyebrow he drawled, “Wonderful speech to rally the troops. But tell me Sis, do you have a plan for this takeover?”
Parker shrugged. “Not my job,” she said. “In order for this to work, we must recognize the inherent talents that each of us possess. The planning stages will be Jarod’s responsibility.”
“You can’t expect me to follow his orders,” Lyle cried, aghast.
“No,” Parker snarled. “I expect you to follow mine.”
Rising quickly to his feet, Lyle frowned in irritation. “And what, exactly, is my role in this little fantasy of yours?”
“You are the knife,” Parker told him. “The blade that will cut down those who stand in our way.”
This brought a sly smile to Lyle’s face. “The pretender, the assassin and the bitch who rules them both.”
“If I were Raines, I would be worried,” Jarod said.
Parker tossed him a regal glare. “If you were Raines, you’d have good reason for concern.” With an imperious glance from one man to the other, Parker asked, “Are we in agreement then?”
Both men nodded solemnly.
“Good.” Parker clapped her hands once and then rubbed her palms together. “Now, what would you boys say to a cup of coffee?”
Lyle and Jarod watched Parker as she breezed out of the room. For a moment, they eyed each other in silence. Lyle spoke first.
“After you, partner,” Lyle grinned.
Jarod shook his head slowly. “I won’t turn my back on you for even a second,” he vowed. With a shrug Lyle started to follow Parker. Jarod’s voice stopped him. “Lyle,” he said in a low ominous tone. “If you betray us, if you disappoint her at all, I will cut out your heart. I’ll do it slowly to make sure I find so small a target.”
Lyle scoffed. “You haven’t got the stomach for that sort of thing,” he said. “That’s why you need me.”
Jarod stepped closer, invading Lyle’s personal space. “You’d be surprised what I can do,” he growled. “Just ask Willie.”
Lyle frowned. He did not know what had happened to the big black sweeper, so Jarod’s reference made little sense. Deciding he’d figure it out later, Lyle turned and headed for the kitchen. He really needed that cup of coffee.
-
Seizing Destiny
Part 5
09/14/04
-
Miss Parker checked her reflection in the mirror once more. She had debated with herself about how to dress, finally choosing the tailored slacks and silk blouse she now wore. The rust colored wool pants weren’t as professional as she would normally wear to the Centre. But neither were they the casual attire that she lounged around in on a regular Saturday morning. Satisfied with what she saw, Parker turned from the mirror as she tucked her handgun into the waistband at the small of her back.
Sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, Parker gazed down at the sleeping man. Jarod had barely moved during the night. He had whimpered pitifully once or twice while Parker watched over him but for the most part he had been quiet.
Parker hated to wake him. Physically he was in much better shape than he had been. His temperature had returned to normal and his pulse and respiration were steady and even. But Parker knew that the emotional damage was far from repaired. It would take much more than a single night of drugged sleep to ease that pain.
“Jarod,” Parker called softly. When there was no response, she reached out and carefully shook his shoulder. “Jarod,” she repeated.
As though he had suddenly been jolted with a live electrical wire, Jarod snapped into consciousness. He gasped, throwing up his arms in a defensive gesture.
“Easy. You’re safe,” Parker reassured him.
For a moment, Jarod seemed disoriented. He glanced around frantically, unsure of his surroundings. When he raised his head from the pillow and met Parker’s gaze, the soft frightened eyes found recognition.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he said mournfully.
Parker shook her head. “No.”
With a heavy sigh, Jarod let his head fall back and he stared at the ceiling. A full minute passed in complete silence. Then with a moan, Jarod rolled into a sitting position and buried his face in his hands.
“Good lord,” he groaned. “What did you give me?”
Parker’s lips curled slightly. “Valium,” she explained. “Low dose, only 3 milligrams, with a bourbon chaser.” She shrugged and added, “It didn’t take much to knock you out. You were already a little shocky and about ready to fall down.”
Jarod looked up and gazed sightlessly out the bedroom window. “My mother?” he asked softly.
“With a coroner I know who owes me a favor,” Parker told him. “He’ll keep her with the Jane Does until we can manufacture the right paperwork.”
Jarod’s dark eyes swung toward Parker but didn’t quite reach her face. Instead he stared at some spot just passed her right elbow. “Thank you, Miss Parker,” he said.
Again, silence reigned for several moments. With a sigh Parker asked, “Are you going to be all right?”
Jarod worried his lower lip between his teeth. He took deep calming breaths in an attempt to stave off the tears that were threatening in his eyes. “I honestly don’t know,” he replied in a forlorn voice.
Placing a reassuring hand on Jarod’s arm, Parker said gently, “I need you to do two things for me, Jarod.” She waited for him to glance up at her before continuing. “First, I need you to get dressed.”
Jarod nodded his acquiescence.
“Second,” she went on. “I need you to trust me for the next thirty minutes or so. Can you do that, Jarod? Can you trust me for just a little while?”
They stared at each other for a moment before Jarod finally shrugged offhandedly. “Why not?” he said. “I owe you one.”
“Good.” Parker stood and handed Jarod a pile of clothing. “Be quick about it,” she commanded. Just then, the front doorbell rang.
“The sweepers are here,” Jarod grumped.
“Not exactly,” Parker said, earning herself a troubled frown from the pretender. She had crossed the bedroom and was headed into the hallway when Jarod spoke again.
“Parker,” he called. “You are being awfully nice to me.”
Parker raised her eyebrows. “Feels a little strange, eh?” she asked.
“Creeps me out,” he answered. “Quit it.”
Flashing Jarod a genuine smile, Parker said, “You don’t give the orders around here, Pez-head. Hurry up and get dressed.”
Parker rushed to the livingroom. As she peered through the peephole, she took out her gun and flipped off the safety. She slid a round into the chamber before unlocking the door and opening it for her brother.
Lyle blinked in surprise as he stared down the barrel of Miss Parker’s weapon.
“Someone’s a little cranky this morning,” Lyle drawled. “What’s the matter, Sis? Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“Give it,” Parker snapped. Gesturing with her gun she reiterated. “Your sidearm. Hand it over.”
“Why do you think I’d be packing? We are family after all.” Lyle smiled encouragingly.
Parker rolled her eyes, not buying it for a moment. “Don’t make me frisk you, Lyle,” she snarled. “I will conduct a cavity search if you force me to.”
With an insolent shrug, Lyle reached into his coat and carefully removed his pistol from a shoulder holster. He handed it to Parker butt first. She took it, checked the chamber and removed the clip. Then she carelessly tossed the weapon into a nearby drawer.
“You’ll get it back when we’re done,” Parker said as she stepped back and allowed her twin to enter.
Parker showed her brother into the livingroom and nodded him toward the couch. Rather than sitting, Parker stood, her gun held casually at her side. She was every bit the Centre ice queen that Lyle had always known.
“No coffee?” Lyle asked, trying to irritate her and gain the upper hand.
“Small talk isn’t really our niche, Lyle,” she said coolly.
Lyle nodded. “Right. Down to business then.” Leaning forward, Lyle produced a thick blue folder and handed it to Miss Parker. “The proof I promised you,” he explained.
Parker recognized this type of classified information. The last time she had seen a Z-3 file, she had been standing in this very same spot. But then, the folder had been labeled “rumor” where this one had “enigma” emblazoned across the first page.
“Daddy’s code name is ‘enigma’,” Parker said aloud as she flipped through the first several pages of the file.
“Enigma killed my mother,” a low voice growled from the other side of the room. Jarod stood in the archway that led to the hall. He stood with his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
At the sound of the pretender’s voice, Lyle sprang from the couch. “What the hell?” he cried. Lyle jumped forward trying to grab the other man. Jarod reacted as one would expect. He crouched into a defensive position and raised his fists.
For a moment, confusion reigned. The two men glared at each other as Miss Parker jostled between them. “STOP!” she yelled at them. Holding up her gun she said, “I am the only one armed here, and I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in a couple kneecaps if that’s what it takes.”
Lyle glanced from Jarod to Miss Parker. She wasn’t the least bit surprised by Jarod’s presence. “Damn it,” Lyle hissed. “You two have been plotting together all along.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Parker snapped. “I got home last night and found Jarod on my doorstep. Ready to turn himself in as a matter of fact.”
“And you didn’t call anyone,” Lyle accused.
“Of course not,” Parker replied angrily. “We’ll have a hell of a time taking control if we hand the keys back to Raines. Don’t you agree?”
Lyle’s glance flashed back to his quarry. Jarod’s expression was hard and inscrutable.
“Sit down.” Parker commanded. “Jarod is the key, remember? Always has been. It might be wise to keep such a valuable prize for ourselves.”
Still eyeing the others warily, Lyle eased back down to the couch. “How did you convince him to cooperate?” Lyle asked.
“I haven’t yet,” Parker stated simply. Turning her attention back to the file, Parker turned the page and frowned. As understanding dawned on her, Parker closed her eyes and sighed heavily. When she looked up, she could see the question in Jarod’s eyes. “Tommy,” she explained.
“Enigma killed my mother,” Jarod repeated forcefully.
“Join the club,” Lyle scoffed, his voice thick with derision.
This comment brought Parker’s head up in astonishment. “What?”
Lyle’s face broke out in a wicked smile. Now the tables were turned and he was the one surprising her. “You heard me. It’s all there. Check out the notation made in April, 1970.”
As Parker found the pages Lyle had mentioned, an angry exhalation hissed from between her teeth. Tension crackled in the air until it was nearly visible. Jarod took a cautious step forward, not wanting to get too close but needing to offer support.
“Bastard,” she ground through a clenched jaw. With a snap, Parker closed the file and thrust it in Jarod’s direction.
The pretender scanned through the pages rapidly. When he looked up, hard dark eyes met steely gray ones. “He must pay for what he has done to us,” Jarod said.
“He will pay,” Parker replied. Her tone was cold and dangerous.
Lyle, smiling evilly, looked from his sister to Jarod and back again. “And how do you suggest we go about collecting what is owed?”
“Simple,” Parker told him. “We do what they have taught us to do.”
Lyle and Jarod glanced at one another uncertainly.
“Think about it,” Parker said with an exasperated rolling of her eyes. “We have been trained all our lives, molded to fit the Centre’s purposes. In the past, that purpose has been to further the ambition of others.”
“But now it will be our turn,” Lyle added.
“Yes,” Parker agreed. “And if we three are working together, there is nothing they will be able to do to stop us.” Her eyes sparkled with confidence. “They will be faced with their worst fear.”
“Us,” Jarod nodded. His eyes widened as the realization struck him. “All these years, they have intentionally pitted us against each other. By stirring up antagonism between us, they have been able to prevent any collaboration.”
“We are the Red files after all.” Parker crossed her arms and glared thoughtfully at the folder in Jarod’s grasp. “Individually, we are a variable that must be dealt with. Together, any two of us would become a dangerous rival.”
“But we,” Lyle said with an encompassing gesture. “Make three Red files.”
“Four,” Jarod corrected. A crafty grin curled one side of his mouth. “Angelo will join us.”
“We will hurt them where it hurts the most,” Parker promised. “We will take the Centre right from under their noses. Anyone who opposes us will be swatted away like flies.”
Lyle sat back and crossed his arms. Raising one eyebrow he drawled, “Wonderful speech to rally the troops. But tell me Sis, do you have a plan for this takeover?”
Parker shrugged. “Not my job,” she said. “In order for this to work, we must recognize the inherent talents that each of us possess. The planning stages will be Jarod’s responsibility.”
“You can’t expect me to follow his orders,” Lyle cried, aghast.
“No,” Parker snarled. “I expect you to follow mine.”
Rising quickly to his feet, Lyle frowned in irritation. “And what, exactly, is my role in this little fantasy of yours?”
“You are the knife,” Parker told him. “The blade that will cut down those who stand in our way.”
This brought a sly smile to Lyle’s face. “The pretender, the assassin and the bitch who rules them both.”
“If I were Raines, I would be worried,” Jarod said.
Parker tossed him a regal glare. “If you were Raines, you’d have good reason for concern.” With an imperious glance from one man to the other, Parker asked, “Are we in agreement then?”
Both men nodded solemnly.
“Good.” Parker clapped her hands once and then rubbed her palms together. “Now, what would you boys say to a cup of coffee?”
Lyle and Jarod watched Parker as she breezed out of the room. For a moment, they eyed each other in silence. Lyle spoke first.
“After you, partner,” Lyle grinned.
Jarod shook his head slowly. “I won’t turn my back on you for even a second,” he vowed. With a shrug Lyle started to follow Parker. Jarod’s voice stopped him. “Lyle,” he said in a low ominous tone. “If you betray us, if you disappoint her at all, I will cut out your heart. I’ll do it slowly to make sure I find so small a target.”
Lyle scoffed. “You haven’t got the stomach for that sort of thing,” he said. “That’s why you need me.”
Jarod stepped closer, invading Lyle’s personal space. “You’d be surprised what I can do,” he growled. “Just ask Willie.”
Lyle frowned. He did not know what had happened to the big black sweeper, so Jarod’s reference made little sense. Deciding he’d figure it out later, Lyle turned and headed for the kitchen. He really needed that cup of coffee.
