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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: Jarod, Lyle, Miss Parker and anyone else associated with the Centre are characters that do not belong to me. Someone else thought them up, pitched the idea for a series and sold them to a bunch of schmucks who didn’t know a good thing when they had it sitting in their laps. I have blatantly stolen the pretender and his associates. I’m not sorry. I won’t apologize. I am not, nor have I ever made any money in these endeavors. But it has been a lot of fun.
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Seizing Destiny
By Phenyx
Part 7
09/21/04
-
Miss Parker strode confidently across the lobby. Her high heels clicked sharply on the tile as she went. She walked with her head held high, her regal demeanor not the least bit marred by the two large men escorting her from the premises. Lyle was in the entourage as well with an additional guard at each side. But it was Parker in her short black skirt and commanding gaze that captured the attention of those she passed.
One of the men held open the front door as Parker stepped into the blazing heat. She and Lyle descended the stairs that led to a large brick building, the Triumvirate’s main facility. There was nothing but silence between them as they ducked into a waiting limousine.
Several moments passed before the vehicle started to move.
Lyle glanced over his shoulder at the rapidly retreating building. The sweepers still stood on the pavement, watching the Parker twins drive away, as though they could intimidate them from afar. “That was easier than I expected,” he said.
No sooner had the words left Lyle’s mouth than the cell phone in Parker’s pocket rang.
“What?” she sighed as she put the device to her ear.
“Well?”
The deep voice didn’t need to identify himself. He never had. Parker cast a quick look out the window at her side, idly wondering where he was. Jarod wasn’t far, she knew. He must have been watching and had seen them leave the Triumvirate facility.
“The woman,” Parker answered. “Guimard is the target.”
The cell phone abruptly buzzed in her ear as Jarod disconnected the call.
“Jarod said we should pick whomever spoke first,” Lyle scolded. “And that was the Italian. Not the Frenchwoman.”
“But Canossa was terribly polite, almost welcoming,” Parker argued.
“He was too busy staring at your legs to be rude,” Lyle said.
“The idea is to remove our most aggressive rival.” Parker ignored Lyle’s remark. “That bitch made no secret of her feelings. She came right out and said that she was against the Centre’s leadership being a part of our family heritage.”
“I think we irritated her,” Lyle added. “Just smiling at her like that.”
“Your mere presence has always had an incredibly irksome effect,” Parker told him.
The two siblings were quiet for a long moment.
“How long do you think it will be before Dad hears about this?” Lyle asked. His voice colored with a trace of concern.
Parker made a great display of staring down at her watch. “I figure he learned of our visit about five minutes ago,” she said.
“He’s going to pitch a fit.” Lyle sighed.
One delicate eyebrow arched. “Are you scared?” Parker asked.
“Aren’t you?”
Parker shook her head. “Daddy won’t hurt us. We are his progeny, part of the Centre legacy.”
“But what about Raines?” Lyle asked.
Parker thought about that for a moment. “No,” she said finally. “Raines won’t touch us either.”
Scoffing, Lyle said, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because if he could, he already would have done so.” Gazing at her brother with a fierce confidence she added, “Besides, if Raines does anything to us, Jarod will come down on him like a vulture on road kill.”
“Hmm,” Lyle nodded. “Your pretender has been a little edgy of late hasn’t he?”
“He isn’t my pretender,” Parker snapped. She turned to stare out the window, watching the African landscape speed by.
“Do you know what he did to Willie and that sweeper team?” Lyle asked.
“I know,” Parker replied blandly.
Lyle sighed dramatically. “It makes me think Jarod’s grasp on sanity may be a bit more tenuous than any of us had thought.”
Without turning her gaze from the window Parker said, “You should think more about staying on his good side, Lyle. You’re not exactly Jarod’s favorite person. If he should lose his temper with you, there would be one hell of a mess to clean up.”
“Would you try to stop him?” Lyle asked.
“Probably not.”
-
“Last call for Air France flight 2305,” a woman’s soothing voice called through overhead speakers. “Last call for flight 2305 – Entebbe to Addis Ababa.”
Jarod put forth an extra burst of energy, dodging passed an elderly couple strolling down the walkway. He turned a corner and skidded to a stop in front of the Air France departure gate. The girl behind the counter smiled at him in amusement.
“Have I missed the flight?” he panted.
“No, Sir,” she replied in lightly accented English. “You’ve just made it.”
Jarod flashed her one of his devastating grins as she processed his ticket for boarding. After a cursory security search of his carryon luggage, Jarod was permitted to climb the stairs to the plane. A few minutes later, he eased back in his seat as the jet left the ground.
Closing his eyes, Jarod immediately began to drift into unconsciousness. The flight to Paris wasn’t a short one, with two stops along the way. Luckily, Jarod would not be required to change planes, so most of his transfers would be spent in slumber. He was exhausted and really needed the sleep.
Jarod hadn’t slept at all in the last week. There had been too much to do. When he wasn’t researching Triumvirate members, he’d been keeping tabs on the players within the Centre. At times he had followed Miss Parker or Mr. Lyle just to ease his doubts about their allegiance.
The pretender had pushed himself to the limits of his endurance. He couldn’t have stayed awake now if his life depended on it. Of course, that had been the point. After nearly two hundred hours of sleep deprivation, Jarod knew he would be practically comatose for the majority of this trip. He would sleep the deep, dreamless sleep of the dead.
For a while, Jarod’s plan had worked. He hadn’t even noticed the plane’s stop in Ethiopia. The next thing he knew, a pretty dark-eyed flight attendant was gently shaking his shoulder. Jarod snapped into wakefulness at her touch, startling them both.
“Perdonarme, signore,” the girl said. “Sono spiacente per svegliarlo.”
“Non è niente,” Jarod answered in Italian.
Jarod stretched stiff muscles as the attendant told him that, for security reasons, he would have to disembark during the layover in Rome. Nodding amiably, Jarod gave the girl a friendly smile before standing to retrieve his bag. As he strolled into the airport, his stomach growled, reminding him that he had not eaten for a while. With two hours before the next leg of his journey was to begin, Jarod made his way toward the small concourse in search of food.
The trip from Rome to Paris wasn’t as simple. Well fed but less exhausted than earlier, Jarod couldn’t sleep as easily as he had before. He tried to doze for a while but dreams of his mother kept intruding. Finally, Jarod gave up and spent the remainder of the flight working on his newest alias.
Undercover as a journalist doing a human-interest story, Jarod was going to Paris to find the estranged daughter of Yvette Guimard. With a little luck, he would be able to find something that would help him defeat the Triumvirate board member. Experience had taught Jarod that a personal attack was far more effective than an assault on someone’s business assets.
As it turned out, luck was smiling on the pretender this day. Marie Tourneau was more than eager to give Jarod all the information he could possibly need. The young woman was a veritable font of information. In addition, she was extremely bitter, gladly giving Jarod plenty of ammunition against her mother.
Apparently, mother and daughter had been distant for many years. The first rift between them had begun when Marie had been in college and had first revealed her sexual orientation. Her mother had, at first, been distraught, then furious. When Marie had moved in with her girlfriend, her mother had disowned her. The two did not speak to one another for years.
Then, the racing accident had taken the life of Marie’s brother. At the funeral, an uneasy truce had formed between the two women. Over time, they had managed to form a strained but firm relationship.
It had lasted until just over a year ago. Marie’s father, Renee Tourneau, had died suddenly under questionable circumstances. Less than a month later, the grieving widow had remarried. With a new, much younger husband, and all of her late spouse’s money, Yvette Guimard had begun to jet across Europe, vacationing in all the most elegant places.
Marie was convinced that her mother had murdered her father. Whether by her own hand or by someone she had hired, Marie wasn’t sure. All evidence against the dead man’s widow was purely circumstantial so the police could do nothing. But no one could keep Marie from continuing her campaign to find her father’s killer.
By the time Jarod left the young lady’s apartment, he was as sure of Yvette Guimard’s guilt as her daughter. This made things easier for Jarod. The Frenchwoman deserved to pay for what she had done. What was about to happen to her would simply be a form of justice. The fact that Jarod and his new partners would benefit was simply an added bonus.
Before the day was over, Jarod was on another plane. Bound this time for New York City, Jarod spent the eight hour flight with is eyes closed. He wasn’t resting, but was instead performing simulations in his mind. He wanted to be prepared with an action plan by the time he saw Miss Parker again.
It was strange when one thought about it. Jarod was oddly intrigued by his need to do well on this. Miss Parker was counting on him, staking her very life on his abilities. As a result, Jarod was beginning to feel a measure of pride in his work that he had not felt in a very long time. Pride as well as anxiety.
He couldn’t let her down. He had to protect her as best he could. In some small way, Jarod knew that this intense focus on what lay ahead was merely a distraction from looking back at the recent past. Concentrating on the most dangerous pretend in his life kept him from thinking about the loss of his mother.
As the plane began to circle over JFK International Airport, Jarod glanced at his watch and frowned. He had promised Parker that he would be nearby. He had been gone for far too long already. To make matters worse, Parker and Lyle would have gone into the Centre today. They would have had to face Raines and Mr. Parker. Both undoubtedly knew about the Triumvirate visit by now.
He hoped Parker was safe. Jarod did some quick calculations and figured that he would reach Blue Cove several hours before Parker would normally leave the Centre. He would have to wait for her. He would go to her house and stand watch until no later than 6 PM. If she weren’t home by then, Jarod would go looking for her.
Jarod gazed out the window and watched, as New York City grew larger beneath him. The drumming of his fingertips on one thigh was the only indicator of his current state of mind.
-
End part 7
Author’s Note: Sorry about the abrupt ending in this chap. The next chapter will have the Lyle/Jarod sidebar. Hope you like it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Seizing Destiny
By Phenyx
Part 7
09/21/04
-
Miss Parker strode confidently across the lobby. Her high heels clicked sharply on the tile as she went. She walked with her head held high, her regal demeanor not the least bit marred by the two large men escorting her from the premises. Lyle was in the entourage as well with an additional guard at each side. But it was Parker in her short black skirt and commanding gaze that captured the attention of those she passed.
One of the men held open the front door as Parker stepped into the blazing heat. She and Lyle descended the stairs that led to a large brick building, the Triumvirate’s main facility. There was nothing but silence between them as they ducked into a waiting limousine.
Several moments passed before the vehicle started to move.
Lyle glanced over his shoulder at the rapidly retreating building. The sweepers still stood on the pavement, watching the Parker twins drive away, as though they could intimidate them from afar. “That was easier than I expected,” he said.
No sooner had the words left Lyle’s mouth than the cell phone in Parker’s pocket rang.
“What?” she sighed as she put the device to her ear.
“Well?”
The deep voice didn’t need to identify himself. He never had. Parker cast a quick look out the window at her side, idly wondering where he was. Jarod wasn’t far, she knew. He must have been watching and had seen them leave the Triumvirate facility.
“The woman,” Parker answered. “Guimard is the target.”
The cell phone abruptly buzzed in her ear as Jarod disconnected the call.
“Jarod said we should pick whomever spoke first,” Lyle scolded. “And that was the Italian. Not the Frenchwoman.”
“But Canossa was terribly polite, almost welcoming,” Parker argued.
“He was too busy staring at your legs to be rude,” Lyle said.
“The idea is to remove our most aggressive rival.” Parker ignored Lyle’s remark. “That bitch made no secret of her feelings. She came right out and said that she was against the Centre’s leadership being a part of our family heritage.”
“I think we irritated her,” Lyle added. “Just smiling at her like that.”
“Your mere presence has always had an incredibly irksome effect,” Parker told him.
The two siblings were quiet for a long moment.
“How long do you think it will be before Dad hears about this?” Lyle asked. His voice colored with a trace of concern.
Parker made a great display of staring down at her watch. “I figure he learned of our visit about five minutes ago,” she said.
“He’s going to pitch a fit.” Lyle sighed.
One delicate eyebrow arched. “Are you scared?” Parker asked.
“Aren’t you?”
Parker shook her head. “Daddy won’t hurt us. We are his progeny, part of the Centre legacy.”
“But what about Raines?” Lyle asked.
Parker thought about that for a moment. “No,” she said finally. “Raines won’t touch us either.”
Scoffing, Lyle said, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because if he could, he already would have done so.” Gazing at her brother with a fierce confidence she added, “Besides, if Raines does anything to us, Jarod will come down on him like a vulture on road kill.”
“Hmm,” Lyle nodded. “Your pretender has been a little edgy of late hasn’t he?”
“He isn’t my pretender,” Parker snapped. She turned to stare out the window, watching the African landscape speed by.
“Do you know what he did to Willie and that sweeper team?” Lyle asked.
“I know,” Parker replied blandly.
Lyle sighed dramatically. “It makes me think Jarod’s grasp on sanity may be a bit more tenuous than any of us had thought.”
Without turning her gaze from the window Parker said, “You should think more about staying on his good side, Lyle. You’re not exactly Jarod’s favorite person. If he should lose his temper with you, there would be one hell of a mess to clean up.”
“Would you try to stop him?” Lyle asked.
“Probably not.”
-
“Last call for Air France flight 2305,” a woman’s soothing voice called through overhead speakers. “Last call for flight 2305 – Entebbe to Addis Ababa.”
Jarod put forth an extra burst of energy, dodging passed an elderly couple strolling down the walkway. He turned a corner and skidded to a stop in front of the Air France departure gate. The girl behind the counter smiled at him in amusement.
“Have I missed the flight?” he panted.
“No, Sir,” she replied in lightly accented English. “You’ve just made it.”
Jarod flashed her one of his devastating grins as she processed his ticket for boarding. After a cursory security search of his carryon luggage, Jarod was permitted to climb the stairs to the plane. A few minutes later, he eased back in his seat as the jet left the ground.
Closing his eyes, Jarod immediately began to drift into unconsciousness. The flight to Paris wasn’t a short one, with two stops along the way. Luckily, Jarod would not be required to change planes, so most of his transfers would be spent in slumber. He was exhausted and really needed the sleep.
Jarod hadn’t slept at all in the last week. There had been too much to do. When he wasn’t researching Triumvirate members, he’d been keeping tabs on the players within the Centre. At times he had followed Miss Parker or Mr. Lyle just to ease his doubts about their allegiance.
The pretender had pushed himself to the limits of his endurance. He couldn’t have stayed awake now if his life depended on it. Of course, that had been the point. After nearly two hundred hours of sleep deprivation, Jarod knew he would be practically comatose for the majority of this trip. He would sleep the deep, dreamless sleep of the dead.
For a while, Jarod’s plan had worked. He hadn’t even noticed the plane’s stop in Ethiopia. The next thing he knew, a pretty dark-eyed flight attendant was gently shaking his shoulder. Jarod snapped into wakefulness at her touch, startling them both.
“Perdonarme, signore,” the girl said. “Sono spiacente per svegliarlo.”
“Non è niente,” Jarod answered in Italian.
Jarod stretched stiff muscles as the attendant told him that, for security reasons, he would have to disembark during the layover in Rome. Nodding amiably, Jarod gave the girl a friendly smile before standing to retrieve his bag. As he strolled into the airport, his stomach growled, reminding him that he had not eaten for a while. With two hours before the next leg of his journey was to begin, Jarod made his way toward the small concourse in search of food.
The trip from Rome to Paris wasn’t as simple. Well fed but less exhausted than earlier, Jarod couldn’t sleep as easily as he had before. He tried to doze for a while but dreams of his mother kept intruding. Finally, Jarod gave up and spent the remainder of the flight working on his newest alias.
Undercover as a journalist doing a human-interest story, Jarod was going to Paris to find the estranged daughter of Yvette Guimard. With a little luck, he would be able to find something that would help him defeat the Triumvirate board member. Experience had taught Jarod that a personal attack was far more effective than an assault on someone’s business assets.
As it turned out, luck was smiling on the pretender this day. Marie Tourneau was more than eager to give Jarod all the information he could possibly need. The young woman was a veritable font of information. In addition, she was extremely bitter, gladly giving Jarod plenty of ammunition against her mother.
Apparently, mother and daughter had been distant for many years. The first rift between them had begun when Marie had been in college and had first revealed her sexual orientation. Her mother had, at first, been distraught, then furious. When Marie had moved in with her girlfriend, her mother had disowned her. The two did not speak to one another for years.
Then, the racing accident had taken the life of Marie’s brother. At the funeral, an uneasy truce had formed between the two women. Over time, they had managed to form a strained but firm relationship.
It had lasted until just over a year ago. Marie’s father, Renee Tourneau, had died suddenly under questionable circumstances. Less than a month later, the grieving widow had remarried. With a new, much younger husband, and all of her late spouse’s money, Yvette Guimard had begun to jet across Europe, vacationing in all the most elegant places.
Marie was convinced that her mother had murdered her father. Whether by her own hand or by someone she had hired, Marie wasn’t sure. All evidence against the dead man’s widow was purely circumstantial so the police could do nothing. But no one could keep Marie from continuing her campaign to find her father’s killer.
By the time Jarod left the young lady’s apartment, he was as sure of Yvette Guimard’s guilt as her daughter. This made things easier for Jarod. The Frenchwoman deserved to pay for what she had done. What was about to happen to her would simply be a form of justice. The fact that Jarod and his new partners would benefit was simply an added bonus.
Before the day was over, Jarod was on another plane. Bound this time for New York City, Jarod spent the eight hour flight with is eyes closed. He wasn’t resting, but was instead performing simulations in his mind. He wanted to be prepared with an action plan by the time he saw Miss Parker again.
It was strange when one thought about it. Jarod was oddly intrigued by his need to do well on this. Miss Parker was counting on him, staking her very life on his abilities. As a result, Jarod was beginning to feel a measure of pride in his work that he had not felt in a very long time. Pride as well as anxiety.
He couldn’t let her down. He had to protect her as best he could. In some small way, Jarod knew that this intense focus on what lay ahead was merely a distraction from looking back at the recent past. Concentrating on the most dangerous pretend in his life kept him from thinking about the loss of his mother.
As the plane began to circle over JFK International Airport, Jarod glanced at his watch and frowned. He had promised Parker that he would be nearby. He had been gone for far too long already. To make matters worse, Parker and Lyle would have gone into the Centre today. They would have had to face Raines and Mr. Parker. Both undoubtedly knew about the Triumvirate visit by now.
He hoped Parker was safe. Jarod did some quick calculations and figured that he would reach Blue Cove several hours before Parker would normally leave the Centre. He would have to wait for her. He would go to her house and stand watch until no later than 6 PM. If she weren’t home by then, Jarod would go looking for her.
Jarod gazed out the window and watched, as New York City grew larger beneath him. The drumming of his fingertips on one thigh was the only indicator of his current state of mind.
-
End part 7
Author’s Note: Sorry about the abrupt ending in this chap. The next chapter will have the Lyle/Jarod sidebar. Hope you like it.
