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Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
She still had no idea where she was going, but when she reached the bus station she bought a ticket to Rochester. She chose her destination by the simple method of closing her eyes and picking the closest town to where her finger fell on a handy map. The feeling still pulled her, though, even after she arrived there in the middle of the night so she paid the extra fare to go further north; to Niagara Falls. Now in the first light of the new morning she stood there and watched the water pouring down.
On her bus trip through the night she had barely slept; every time she had closed her eyes she heard a little girl crying for her Mom, somehow familiar, but mixed with a the sound of an adult man doing the same. She knew that the cries were from real people. Whether they’d called out at the moment she felt them, or some time in the past was unclear, but most of her hunches were extremely vague anyway, and she’d learned to live with uncertainty.
The first rays of the sun created little rainbows over the water and one magnificent one over the main cataract. The sound of the water was deafening and the flow of countless gallons of water mesmerizing. Kahtie decided that she like this place. The turbulent water of the river was as chaotic and troubled as her feelings.
The sound of laughing people startled her, she turned and saw a young couple playing. The man was chasing the woman around one of the potted trees decorating the walkway. She could feel their happiness; she could sense her love. She remembered that Niagara Falls is a popular spot for honeymoons, but she couldn’t remember how she had learned that. Like much of her past it was clouded and full of impenetrable shadows.
Kahtie tried to remember when she had been that happy; she had the feeling once she had known such joy, but she could not remember when or why. With a heavy sigh she walked away from the rushing water and began strolling down the promenade, watching the growing crowd of people and window shopping in the little shops that lined the way.
This was where she needed to be; she wasn’t feeling pulled to go anywhere else, but she had no idea why she was here. As far as she knew, she’d never been to this place before. Then again, as far as she knew she’d never been to New York City before she went there and found St. Anne’s. As she had before, she would simply wait now, and sooner or later her premonition of need would become clear.
*****
"Who are you?"
With a start Emily shot up in her bed and starred into a pair of curious eyes. Frantically she tried to recall where she was. The memories of the last days came back to her and with a groan she dropped back into the bed.
"Who are you?" The girl demanded again, a bit more forcefully this time.
Emily smiled at her.
"My name is Emily, and you must be Debbie." She replied patiently.
The girl next to her bed nodded.
"What are you doing here and why are you wearing my Dad’s pajamas?" The girl wanted to know next.
‘Kids!’ Emily thought, realizing that she wasn’t going to get to go back to sleep. The young woman sat up in her bed again and patted the bed next to her, inviting Debbie to have a seat.
After Debbie had complied Emily tried to come up with an explanation that would satisfy the child, but not open them up to discovery by an innocent slip of the tongue on Debbie’s part. In the end she decided to stay as close to the truth as possible.
"Your Dad was nice enough to offer me a place to sleep last night; maybe even for a few days. I had a bit trouble and your Dad’s colleague Miss Parker helped me, but she had some troubles of her own to take care of, and couldn’t keep helping me. Your Dad decided to help me then, so I came to your place. You don’t mind that, do you?" Emily asked.
"Is she OK?" Debbie asked.
"OK? Who?" Emily had the feeling she had lost a important part of their conversation.
"Miss Parker!" Debbie explained with the exasperation of an adult dealing with a particularly stupid child. Emily restrained an amused smile with some difficulty.
"You know her?" Emily asked her, maybe this was her chance to learn more about the woman. She was still not sure what to think about Miss Parker; she was a strange combination of contradictions, but the girl seemed to like her.
"Yes I know her. I even lived with her for a few days when my father was out of town." Debbie declared proudly. "So is she OK? "
"I think so. The last time I saw her she seemed perfectly fine. Why don’t you get down and go wait for me in the kitchen. I’ll get dressed and we can have breakfast and chat some more, how does that sound?"
Debbie cocked her head and decided she liked the woman; she seemed to be really nice. She hopped down from the bed ad walked towards the door, but before she left the room she turned and looked at the woman in the bed.
"I think the pajama looks much nicer on you than on Daddy." She volunteered with a broad grin and then she hurried out of the room.
Emily looked down on the bright red garment with white Teddy bears. It was so garish it made her eyes hurt. Groaning Emily leaned again back onto the pillow and pulled the covers over her face.
****
"Do you have a coffee for me as well?" Jarod asked his father as he approached him from behind. "I could really use one. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry; almost as if somebody slipped a sedative into my tea last night…" he glared at his father suspiciously..
"You needed the sleep badly." Major Charles defended himself unrepentantly. "I know how you feel, but if you want to find Angelina, you need to think straight. You can’t do that if you’re sleep deprived, now can you?"
"You know Parker’s first name?" Jarod looked so surprised that his father paused in the act of handing him a cup of coffee and grinned.
"Sure I do. I’ve known her longer than you have. The first time I saw her she was about 5 years old. She was with her mother; a happy little girl. I asked her what her name was, and she told me. Her mother smiled and told me that she only tells her first name people she really likes." The Major’s grin turned into a reminiscent smile.
"I had no idea you knew her." Jarod said, still surprised.
"I hadn’t heard anything about her for many years; not after her mother..." He trailed off with a deep sigh. "The last time I saw her was shortly before you arranged to trade me for her father."
"She came into my room---well, cell really." He continued at Jarod’s look of avid curiosity. "She had a gun in her hand-----*my* gun. She was all set to shoot me, thinking I was the one who killed her mother. It’s so ironic, really----" His voice faded but he didn’t finish that thought.
"Anyway, I was stunned by how much she looked like her mother, it was like a look into the past. She has the same bright blue eyes that she had as a little girl, but there’s no happiness inside them anymore."
"I want to bring the happiness back to her, " Jarod sighed, "but I’m afraid that it might be too late. You know, I have a feeling that she is moving further away from me with every passing minute. That’s why I need to find---I need...." he trailed off.
Suddenly an idea struck him. He got up and took the laptop from his room, then he opened it, and connected to the Internet to check his mail. As he had hoped, there was mail waiting. He silently send a thank you to Angelo.
Jarod started the video file while his father watched over his shoulder. Astonished they watched the scene with Raines in his office. When the recording had finished they sat in thought, still staring at the blank screen for several moments. Finally the Major turned to his son.
"Jarod, what do you know about this? What is a red file, why is she in one, and what the hell is the Pagode."
"The red files are the Centre’s records of their Pretender Project subjects. I knew she was in one, but..." Frowning fiercely, Jarod tried to make sense out of what they had just seen. She wasn’t a Pretender, he was sure----or was she? No impossible.
"As for the Pagode----I don’t know much about it, but what little I do know is not good. Believe me it isn’t a bit better than the Centre; to be honest I am not sure which organization is worse. "
"Son, I have a bad feeling about this whole thing. We need to find Angelina, and it had better be soon. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if they got to her first.." he trailed off cursing under his breath.
Jarod buried his head in his hands and raked his fingers through his hair. Things just went from bad to worse and he had an awful premonition that they hadn’t seen the end of their disasters yet.
"Jarod, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you to find her first. It’s the least I can do since she’s carrying my first grandchild." Charles promised his harried son.
Jarod winced at his father’s last sentence. He didn’t need a reminder that she carried his child; he already felt like an idiot. After all this time he had finally had her and he stupidly let her go. Instead of holding her close, he had called her after his escape and told her that they were both still alone. He had tricked her into a shipping container, with her crazy brother, no less, and after he’d uncovered the file about her abortion he had accused her, and pushed her away. He never even gave her a chance to explain. May God forgive him, but he had actually wanted to slap her.
"Why don’t you call Sydney? He helped you with JJ." Deciding that Jarod had wallowed in guilt and remorse long enough, the Major interrupted his thoughts with a positive suggestion.
***
"This is Sydney."
"Sydney, this is Sam." The other man responded instantly..
"How is Miss Parker? I hoped she would want to speak to me. " Sydney replied sadly.
He had hoped so much she would give him an opportunity to talk with her.
"I’m sorry, but she can’t talk to you right now. We gave her another sedative about an hour ago. I don’t dare give her another today for fear of harming the baby, but I’m worried about what will happen when she wakes up. She’s been sleeping a lot----when she isn’t crying, that is." Sam explained.
"It’s that bad?" Concern was clearly evident in Sydney’s voice.
"I am not a doctor." Sam answered slowly. "But to be honest I think it will be a miracle if she carries this baby to term."
On her bus trip through the night she had barely slept; every time she had closed her eyes she heard a little girl crying for her Mom, somehow familiar, but mixed with a the sound of an adult man doing the same. She knew that the cries were from real people. Whether they’d called out at the moment she felt them, or some time in the past was unclear, but most of her hunches were extremely vague anyway, and she’d learned to live with uncertainty.
The first rays of the sun created little rainbows over the water and one magnificent one over the main cataract. The sound of the water was deafening and the flow of countless gallons of water mesmerizing. Kahtie decided that she like this place. The turbulent water of the river was as chaotic and troubled as her feelings.
The sound of laughing people startled her, she turned and saw a young couple playing. The man was chasing the woman around one of the potted trees decorating the walkway. She could feel their happiness; she could sense her love. She remembered that Niagara Falls is a popular spot for honeymoons, but she couldn’t remember how she had learned that. Like much of her past it was clouded and full of impenetrable shadows.
Kahtie tried to remember when she had been that happy; she had the feeling once she had known such joy, but she could not remember when or why. With a heavy sigh she walked away from the rushing water and began strolling down the promenade, watching the growing crowd of people and window shopping in the little shops that lined the way.
This was where she needed to be; she wasn’t feeling pulled to go anywhere else, but she had no idea why she was here. As far as she knew, she’d never been to this place before. Then again, as far as she knew she’d never been to New York City before she went there and found St. Anne’s. As she had before, she would simply wait now, and sooner or later her premonition of need would become clear.
*****
"Who are you?"
With a start Emily shot up in her bed and starred into a pair of curious eyes. Frantically she tried to recall where she was. The memories of the last days came back to her and with a groan she dropped back into the bed.
"Who are you?" The girl demanded again, a bit more forcefully this time.
Emily smiled at her.
"My name is Emily, and you must be Debbie." She replied patiently.
The girl next to her bed nodded.
"What are you doing here and why are you wearing my Dad’s pajamas?" The girl wanted to know next.
‘Kids!’ Emily thought, realizing that she wasn’t going to get to go back to sleep. The young woman sat up in her bed again and patted the bed next to her, inviting Debbie to have a seat.
After Debbie had complied Emily tried to come up with an explanation that would satisfy the child, but not open them up to discovery by an innocent slip of the tongue on Debbie’s part. In the end she decided to stay as close to the truth as possible.
"Your Dad was nice enough to offer me a place to sleep last night; maybe even for a few days. I had a bit trouble and your Dad’s colleague Miss Parker helped me, but she had some troubles of her own to take care of, and couldn’t keep helping me. Your Dad decided to help me then, so I came to your place. You don’t mind that, do you?" Emily asked.
"Is she OK?" Debbie asked.
"OK? Who?" Emily had the feeling she had lost a important part of their conversation.
"Miss Parker!" Debbie explained with the exasperation of an adult dealing with a particularly stupid child. Emily restrained an amused smile with some difficulty.
"You know her?" Emily asked her, maybe this was her chance to learn more about the woman. She was still not sure what to think about Miss Parker; she was a strange combination of contradictions, but the girl seemed to like her.
"Yes I know her. I even lived with her for a few days when my father was out of town." Debbie declared proudly. "So is she OK? "
"I think so. The last time I saw her she seemed perfectly fine. Why don’t you get down and go wait for me in the kitchen. I’ll get dressed and we can have breakfast and chat some more, how does that sound?"
Debbie cocked her head and decided she liked the woman; she seemed to be really nice. She hopped down from the bed ad walked towards the door, but before she left the room she turned and looked at the woman in the bed.
"I think the pajama looks much nicer on you than on Daddy." She volunteered with a broad grin and then she hurried out of the room.
Emily looked down on the bright red garment with white Teddy bears. It was so garish it made her eyes hurt. Groaning Emily leaned again back onto the pillow and pulled the covers over her face.
****
"Do you have a coffee for me as well?" Jarod asked his father as he approached him from behind. "I could really use one. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry; almost as if somebody slipped a sedative into my tea last night…" he glared at his father suspiciously..
"You needed the sleep badly." Major Charles defended himself unrepentantly. "I know how you feel, but if you want to find Angelina, you need to think straight. You can’t do that if you’re sleep deprived, now can you?"
"You know Parker’s first name?" Jarod looked so surprised that his father paused in the act of handing him a cup of coffee and grinned.
"Sure I do. I’ve known her longer than you have. The first time I saw her she was about 5 years old. She was with her mother; a happy little girl. I asked her what her name was, and she told me. Her mother smiled and told me that she only tells her first name people she really likes." The Major’s grin turned into a reminiscent smile.
"I had no idea you knew her." Jarod said, still surprised.
"I hadn’t heard anything about her for many years; not after her mother..." He trailed off with a deep sigh. "The last time I saw her was shortly before you arranged to trade me for her father."
"She came into my room---well, cell really." He continued at Jarod’s look of avid curiosity. "She had a gun in her hand-----*my* gun. She was all set to shoot me, thinking I was the one who killed her mother. It’s so ironic, really----" His voice faded but he didn’t finish that thought.
"Anyway, I was stunned by how much she looked like her mother, it was like a look into the past. She has the same bright blue eyes that she had as a little girl, but there’s no happiness inside them anymore."
"I want to bring the happiness back to her, " Jarod sighed, "but I’m afraid that it might be too late. You know, I have a feeling that she is moving further away from me with every passing minute. That’s why I need to find---I need...." he trailed off.
Suddenly an idea struck him. He got up and took the laptop from his room, then he opened it, and connected to the Internet to check his mail. As he had hoped, there was mail waiting. He silently send a thank you to Angelo.
Jarod started the video file while his father watched over his shoulder. Astonished they watched the scene with Raines in his office. When the recording had finished they sat in thought, still staring at the blank screen for several moments. Finally the Major turned to his son.
"Jarod, what do you know about this? What is a red file, why is she in one, and what the hell is the Pagode."
"The red files are the Centre’s records of their Pretender Project subjects. I knew she was in one, but..." Frowning fiercely, Jarod tried to make sense out of what they had just seen. She wasn’t a Pretender, he was sure----or was she? No impossible.
"As for the Pagode----I don’t know much about it, but what little I do know is not good. Believe me it isn’t a bit better than the Centre; to be honest I am not sure which organization is worse. "
"Son, I have a bad feeling about this whole thing. We need to find Angelina, and it had better be soon. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if they got to her first.." he trailed off cursing under his breath.
Jarod buried his head in his hands and raked his fingers through his hair. Things just went from bad to worse and he had an awful premonition that they hadn’t seen the end of their disasters yet.
"Jarod, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you to find her first. It’s the least I can do since she’s carrying my first grandchild." Charles promised his harried son.
Jarod winced at his father’s last sentence. He didn’t need a reminder that she carried his child; he already felt like an idiot. After all this time he had finally had her and he stupidly let her go. Instead of holding her close, he had called her after his escape and told her that they were both still alone. He had tricked her into a shipping container, with her crazy brother, no less, and after he’d uncovered the file about her abortion he had accused her, and pushed her away. He never even gave her a chance to explain. May God forgive him, but he had actually wanted to slap her.
"Why don’t you call Sydney? He helped you with JJ." Deciding that Jarod had wallowed in guilt and remorse long enough, the Major interrupted his thoughts with a positive suggestion.
***
"This is Sydney."
"Sydney, this is Sam." The other man responded instantly..
"How is Miss Parker? I hoped she would want to speak to me. " Sydney replied sadly.
He had hoped so much she would give him an opportunity to talk with her.
"I’m sorry, but she can’t talk to you right now. We gave her another sedative about an hour ago. I don’t dare give her another today for fear of harming the baby, but I’m worried about what will happen when she wakes up. She’s been sleeping a lot----when she isn’t crying, that is." Sam explained.
"It’s that bad?" Concern was clearly evident in Sydney’s voice.
"I am not a doctor." Sam answered slowly. "But to be honest I think it will be a miracle if she carries this baby to term."
