AQUASTAR CLEANING SERVICES – HIGH SECURITY WING

THE FOLLOWING DAY

Jarod's morning had started off the same as virtually every other morning he could remember since his life at the Centre had begun. He had been awoken at some ungodly hour in the morning, and escorted to the showers. Ten minutes was all he was allotted to shower, shave and attend to his other needs. Upon exiting his shower, a fresh set of Centre issued garments were waiting for him.

Jarod was then escorted back to his room, where a great breakfast of green mush and tomato juice was waiting for him. Jarod knew he should eat, the rumbling in his stomach told him it had been sometime since he had gone with non-intravenous nourishment, but his stomach retched at the thought. He wasn't sure if it was the still present flu symptoms or his stomach's plea for real food. He quickly dismissed the idea of eating breakfast, and instead opted to sink into a corner in the small room, furthest away from the ever present camera.

Sighing loudly, Jarod leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed. His body was still feeling the effect of his raging fever, and his head was pounding with an unforgiving headache. He hated feeling weak in his current situation. Weakness was not conducive to escape.

At least the guards this morning had seemed to misplace their handcuffs. Jarod could not recall a time where he had been so heavily restrained, even upon his last return to the Centre. It was just more evidence pointing towards the Centre's desperation.

Life had been much simpler when he was a child. At first all it would take was Sydney's raised voice to send Jarod cowering into the corner, pleading for forgiveness. As he got older, the discipline got increasingly harsher, starting with nasty backhands from overeager sweepers to some late sessions with then Dr. Raines that Jarod preferred to not think about. During his teens he was often sent to an isolation cell for in extreme cases - days on end. A few hours of sitting in the dark, in a room so small a child couldn't lie flat was enough to send most people on the path of righteousness as far as the Centre was concerned. Thankfully he had outgrown that, in some ways it would still be an effective punishment, a fact he would never confess to his keepers. Jarod was certain that his memory gaps, such as the heart-stopping incident that had recently surfaced with Lyle as the key player, coincided directly with when he began to refuse doing certain high profile simulations. Then there was the murder of Kenny, and Lyle and his jumper cables. Anything they could do to keep him in line and somewhat manageable. As much as he hated to admit it, Jarod was apprehensive about what Lyle might subject him to, to regain his co-operation given their current desperation.

Jarod was jerked back to reality with the sound of the electronic lock of his cell disengaging. Sydney stepped in followed by Sam, the handcuffs glimmering in the sweepers hands. "Showtime." Jarod muttered under his breath. He remained huddled in his corner of the room, refusing to make eye contact with his visitors.

"Jarod." Sydney scolded. The pretenders eyes shot up to meet the gaze of his mentor. He hadn't heard that tone from Sydney in quite sometime. Jarod had heard it many times as he was removed from his stints in the isolation cells. With a huff of irritation, Jarod pushed himself to his feet, crossing his arms in front of him defiantly.

Sydney maintained steady eye contact with his protégé. "Miss Parker has requested your presence in the sim lab Jarod."

"Tell her thanks, but I think I'll decline this invitation." Jarod remarked as he made his way to the bed. He felt Sam move quickly inline behind him, only to be stopped by a gesture from Sydney.

"How are you feeling Jarod? Has your fever subsided?" Sydney questioned, tactfully changing the subject, moving towards where the pretender now sat on the bed.

Jarod opened his mouth to respond, but a thermometer was quickly placed in it before the words could leave him. "Why engage in battles that you have no hope of success Jarod?" His mentor said quietly. Jarod's eyes fell to the floor, knowing his mentor was referring to his pointless resistance to the sweepers. He often wondered that himself, but he couldn’t allow them to make it easier for themselves.

The beeping of the thermometer ended the awkward silence that had fallen in the room. Jarod saw Sydney's brow furrow in concern. He didn't need to ask to know his fever was still high. Sydney placed his hand around Jarod's arm and motioned for the pretender to stand. "For what it's worth Jarod, I tried to get you a few extra days rest, but the Center -, I -, we-, we really need your help."

With a nod of understanding towards his mentor, Jarod pushed himself to a standing position, and watched wearily as Sam approached him from across the room.

"Turn around." The sweeper said evenly, his eyes daring Jarod to defy. He had a few favours to return to the pretender in thanks for his black eye from the other night, not to mention some well overdue retribution for the pretenders escape off the airplane which had been very embarrassing for Sam.

Looking back at Sydney and getting a pleading nod in return, Jarod reluctantly turned around, and allowed the sweeper to handcuff his hands behind his back. As Jarod was led out of the room, he was flanked on his other side by another sweeper.

"That wasn't so hard now was it Jarod." Sam mocked as he guided the pretender down the hall.

AQUASTAR CLEANING SERVICES – LOW SECURITY RESIDENTAL WING

Henrik sat motionless at the table, starring curiously at the video screens in front of him. He had been dumped in this small room for at least an hour. No explanation, not a person in sight, other then the lone sweeper he knew stood guard outside the door.

Henrik had to fight back the yawn that was trying to force its way to the surface. It had been an exhausting two weeks for the young pretender, ever since the terrifying late night attacks by Corporation Zero.

Henrik was eternally grateful that his German facility had been spared in the targeted attacks. He had been forced to view the terrible photos from Lyon, and was desperately worried about his childhood acquaintances who were currently missing from the Lyon facility and believed to be held by Corporation Zero.

Immediately after word had reached Germany, the facility had been placed under lockdown, meaning Henrik had been removed from his comfortable quarters and placed in small isolation cells at the deepest depths of the building. For one week Henrik had spent his time starring at the empty grey walls of his small prison, until he was informed that he was to be transferred to North America to aid in the recovery of his childhood friends and other 'sensitive cargo'. It had been a long and lonely journey for Henrik, he had spent most of his time waiting idly in the back of cargo vans, or in the dark and unforgiving holding cells of Centre safehouses - a dramatic change from his comfortable room back at the Centre facility in Germany, which was shared with three other pretenders like himself. A journey that normally would have taken fifteen hours was spaced out for six days, but they had made it - safely.

Dr. Klaus had been waiting when Henrik’s van had arrived. Henrik had been quickly and gently ushered into the building and was quickly led to a small bedroom, and without explanation was left for the evening. His room was bland, just a small bed, desk, and chair and table with a small bathroom off to one side. Boredom and loneliness had quickly taken over. Henrik was nearly twenty-two, and he had spent the last ten years of his life sharing space with his three other roommates. His isolation from companionship was taking its toll.

After what had seemed liked hours, Henrik was able to drift to sleep. He had awoken when a nameless sweeper had brought his breakfast. After gulping that down, and indulging in his first shower in over a week, Henrik had been escorted to this room. He recognized it's form and function as a sim lab, but was curious as to the video surveillance monitors that had obviously been hastily sat up at the table he now occupied.

AQUASTAR CLEANING SERVICES – HIGH SECURITY WING SIM LAB

Jarod stared mutely at the ground, feigning disinterest in his surroundings. Although he was the guest of honor for this little charade, in true Centre fashion they were making him wait for their presence, stew in his own anticipation. By his calculation he had been sitting here nearly half an hour, and the not so subtle fidgeting of the two sweepers standing guard a few meters behind him, seemed to confirm this.

As if on cue, Jarod heard the electronic lock of the sim lab door disengage, and the unmistakable click of what could only be Parker's stiletto heels enter the room. Jarod rubbed his eyes and tugged lightly at the chain that bound his left hand to the heavy metal table he sat at, waiting for his guests to enter into his field of vision.

Jarod had to forcefully keep himself from smiling when he got sight of the bumbling tech that had scrambled in behind Parker. Broots was carrying an armload of file folders, and had an expression of pure terror on his face. The tech was flanked by a concerned looking Sydney, Sam and the ever-smug Mr. Lyle. Jarod almost had to roll his eyes at the over-confidence Mr. Lyle was emanating. A tall, older, and very distinguished gentleman followed Mr. Lyle, and Jarod was immediately conscious of the man's intense eyes sizing him up.

Jarod met Miss Parker's gaze from across the table. Only Broots, who had clumsily dumped his load of files on the table sat down. He could feel Sydney's presence just behind him, forever Jarod's keeper and quasi-protector, while Sam took up the enforcer's position to the right of him. The other gentleman stood off to the left side, but his gaze was too intently focused on Jarod's form.

"I'm not going to help you." Jarod stated evenly, not breaking his heated gaze with Miss Parker.

"Tired words Jarod. At least hear us out." Parker snapped, she too locking eyes with Jared.

"I have no interest in anything you people have to say to me. I refuse to be a pawn in your games again." Jarod returned evenly.

Parker's eyes narrowed, but calmly continued. "Jarod, the Centre is being threatened. An outside corporation is trying to add Triumvirate holdings into its own personal stock portfolio."

"Then let them. The demise of the Centre is something I've been dreaming about since I was a little boy." Jarod shot back.

Parker slammed her fist into the table, causing all male occupants of the room to jump, except for the one she was trying intimidate. She had not expected Jarod to quickly dismiss the threat. "Dammit Jarod. I – …" Parker was silenced by Lyle.

"Jarod we've been through this dance before. Do we need to repeat the whole torture – thing. As much fun as I will have, we all know what the outcome will be." As soon as Lyle had emitted the word torture, Jarod felt Sydney's hand on his shoulder.

"You have no leverage this time Lyle. No family members, no time for three week drug binges.

Don't fool yourself." Jarod retorted.

"Jarod. I am simply asking you to open the files and take a look. I am positive that when you see the contents of the file you will experience a rather sudden change of heart. Save the false male bravado, and open the damn files."

Jarod shook his head furiously. "What is it that you people can't understand. I am not simming a damn thing for you ever again. You stole everything from me, my life, my family, and as far as I am concerned, the Center can die. From my perspective a cell is a cell, it doesn't matter to me if it's yours or Corporation Zero's. I can only hope that they are half as incompetent as you all appear to be."

Lyle snorted. "Big words from a man being kept in shorter chains than a dog."

"Cut the crap Jarod." Parker chipped in return, ignoring her twin. "I am so sick of your whiny I had bad childhood routine. You are not the only person in the room who grew up without a mother. The Center dies and all your secrets die along with it."

Jarod shrugged. "Along with yours Miss Parker."

"Last chance Jarod. Start reading the files or I'm sending you on your way with Lyle and Sam." Parker threatened, disbelief at herself as the words actually left her mouth. This was not how she had meant to play it, but Jarod could just be so damn infuriating sometimes.

Jarod turned away, finally break eye contact with his huntress and sighed. His relationship with Parker had evolved slowly over the years, but he hadn’t heard that tone of voice from her since just after he had escape the Centre. He yanked in frustration at the chain the held him captive to the table. Behind him Sydney was adamantly protesting his going anywhere, citing Jarod's questionable health.

After composing himself, Jarod turned back to Miss Parker and cocked his head, "Do you think Corporation Zero had a good benefits package, Miss Parker?" Jarod asked playfully knowing it would only further anger her. "Maybe you could inquire for me, before I make my final decision. Make sure you get full details about dental, that is where they tend to screw you."

Broots sprung to his feet. "NO!" He said forcefully, to the surprise of all of the room's occupants, including himself. Digging for a file, Broots scurried frantically over to Jarod, throwing pictures in front of the uncooperative pretender.

"Look Jarod. Look what these people did. These are from Lyon, but these files contain hundreds more like this from India, China, Peru and Scotland. Hundreds of children have lost their parents, their families. Do you want Debbie to see this happen to her father? The Centre isn't full of saints by any means, but no one deserves to die like this Jarod, no one!”

After studying the photos, Jarod met Miss Parker's gaze, a horrified expression dominating his features as he spoke, barely louder than a whisper. "I didn't know. I didn't' know it was like this. I-"

"That is why I told you to open the damn file genius." Parker snarled back, still irritated by their earlier exchange.

Jarod looked pleadingly at Parker. "Give me an hour or two to look this over and I'll…." his voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"You'll what Jarod." Parker pushed.

"I'll…see what I can do." The pretender whispered as he broke eye contact with Parker, as if in disbelief he was actually agreeing to help them.

"Good enough Jarod." Parker stated as she snapped her finger at Broots. "Broots – lets go organize the rest of the information for Jarod, and Sydney, I want you upstairs with me now to work out a suitable schedule for Jarod. I don't want him slipping into a coma from exhaustion."

Jarod remained silent as the trio left the room, ignoring the quick shoulder squeeze the psychiatrist gave him on his way out. He noticed Lyle in deep conversation with the strange man, who had what Jarod assumed to be a German accent.

"Well Jarod, it appears that it is just us boys now." Lyle smirked. "I think we need to have a little talk about your manners." Jarod ignored him, instead opening one of the files that Broots had left within arms reach, until he felt Sam's presence behind him. "Get up." The sweeper ordered.

"Not now Sam. I'm busy." Jarod stated, feigning a tone of annoyance while wondering what it was exactly Lyle wanted with him – not that he didn't already have an idea, and it didn't bode well for him himself.

Before he knew it his chair had been pulled out from under him and he was roughly face-planted into the table. The chain that kept him captive to the table, now replaced with handcuffs. Jarod submissively ending his struggles, he had learned in his last stay at the Center, if Lyle wanted to play, there was little, if anything Jarod could do to stop him. "What do you want Lyle?"

"We're just going to go for a small walk Jarod. We need to make sure you are understand the penalty you will pay for being less than cooperative. Sam – let's go."

AQUASTAR CLEANING SERVICES – LOW SECURITY RESIDENTAL WING

"Who was that man, Dr. Klaus?" Henrik questioned his long time teacher.

About ten minutes prior, Henrik had been treated to a live show from the sim lab below him. A sweeper had come in with instructions from Dr. Klaus saying that Henrik was to watch the live feed, and pay close attention to a Centre subject called Jarod.

"Jarod is a pretender Henrik. He's been with the Centre since he was a very young child."

"He shows so little respect for his teachers, why is that Sir?" Henrik questioned.

"Jarod has been tainted by the outside world and was just recently reacquired. His behaviour is not tolerated and he will be immediately transferred to Africa when Corporation Zero has been taken care of." Klaus replied, hiding his smile when his subject's eyes widened with fear at the mention of Africa. The European branches of the Centre had low tolerance for disobedience and it was easily reflected in the pristine behaviour of their subjects.

"And what am I to do with Jarod, Sir?"

"You will be overseeing his simulations Henrik. Jarod is a very valuable pretender with talent and abilities that far surpass that of anyone at our own facility, including your own. However he is not to be trusted. You will be observing his simulations and assure us that he is not manipulating data or misleading us in anyway." Klaus told his young protégé.

"When shall I meet him?" Henrik questioned. He was eager to meet another pretender, after being in near isolation for the last month.

"You don't." Klaus barked. "Jarod is not to know of your existence. He cannot know that we are verifying his work. I have brought you some files to read about Corporation Zero and Jarod. It is imperative that we start planning the raids to free our two subjects from Lyon that are being held by them." With that Klaus left the room.

AQUASTAR CLEANING SERVICES – HIGH SECURITY WING

Sydney stormed down the hallway, eyeing the two sweepers stationed outside Jarod's door.

"Open the door." He commanded.

"Doctor, Mr. Lyle has ordered that pretender shall be isolated for the morning. He is to have no visitors –especially not you. He will be returned to the lab after lunch." The shorter of the two sweepers responded professionally.

Sydney had to suppress his anger. "Jarod is my project, I am not to be denied access to him."

The larger of the sweepers, a tall threatening-looking black man stood up to Sydney. "If you have a problem, you will have to speak to Mr. Lyle, Doctor."

"Let him in." A menacing female voice said from behind the group. Sydney couldn't help but smile in relief as he turned to face Miss Parker.

"But Mr. Lyle said…" The black sweeper mumbled.

Parker glared at him. "I don't care what my idiot brother said, open the damn door."

The sweeper immediately cowered under Miss Parker's classic ice queen glare and turned and punched in the access code to Jarod's room. Sydney felt a swell of pride for the powerful young woman in front of him. If anyone could get them through this crisis safely it would be her...correction her and Jarod.

The sweeper held the door open and motioned Sydney inside. To his surprise, he felt Miss Parker's hand on his shoulder. Sydney turned to face the woman behind him, noticing a distinct softness that had been absent on her features since this ordeal had started. He was being to worry that she had regressed to her old ways.

"My god – Jarod." Sydney muttered under his breath when he laid eyes on his protégé. He heard Miss Parker gasp quietly behind him.

Jarod was lying on the bed, his hands were restrained above his head, and angry, red cuts were visible from beneath the bracelets of the ever present restraints encircling his wrists. He was bare-chested, exposing the angry red burn marks from what Sydney could only assume was from Lyle's jumper cables. Deep purple bruises were forming down his chest, and a large welt was visible on his left cheek. Jarod's breath was laboured and his eyes were winced shut in what Sydney could only assume was pain. The presence of fever was obvious due to the thin film of sweat that coated the pretender's body.

"Come to escort me to round two Miss Parker?" Jarod questioned, surprising Sydney with his lucidity. Jarod's resilient nature never ceased to amaze Sydney.

Sydney turned to Parker behind him, motioning her to remain silent. Jarod and Parker shared a unique relationship to say the least. In the few times that Sydney had been privy to witness their exchanges in the last few years, the undertone of tension between the two had been clairvoyantly obvious.

"Jarod, is there anything I can do?" Sydney asked weakly as he sat gingerly on the bed beside the pretender. He was at a loss for words, not easily done to a psychologist. Since Jarod's escape he had finally awaken to the physical torture the pretender had been exposed to at the Centre. The antagonists were always careful that Sydney was not around to witness the worse of what was being done to his subject. Sydney realized he had been naive to think that the worst of Jarod's exposure to Centre discipline was a few stints in the isolation cells and the occasional slap from an overexcited sweeper. Seeing Jarod, bruised and beaten, was the first time Sydney had seen the aftermath in real time. Anger was all he felt, anger at the situation, at Lyle, for his own stupidity and the abuse of the precious genius of the man who lay before him.

Jarod's deep brown eyes met Sydney's concerned gaze. "I didn't realize how.. how bad things were. When I deduced corporate take-over I thought Corporation Zero was playing games on the stock market. It wouldn't take much for the Triumvirate assets to be quashed, and force them into some deal making. Any half-wit could have dreamed up a viable scheme. But Sydney, I never envisioned anything like this. This is about something much more than stocks, bonds and real-estate. It's personal to someone."

Sydney nodded, not missing the fact that the pretender had changed the subject away from his own personal well being.

Parker interjected. "Jarod for what it's worth, I would not have you alone with Lyle if I knew what he had planned."

"Funny Parker, a few hours ago you were ready to send me right to Lyle's room of fun." The pretender shot back bitterly, his gaze shifted to the wall, straining his arms against the tight restraints tethered above his head.

“I am sorry Jarod.” Parker finally admitted after a long silence. “This is not how I meant to play things.”

Jarod pursed his lips, carefully choosing his words. “We have a way of bringing out the worst in each other, don’t we Miss Parker.”

The two shared an intense look, before Parker broke eye contact, not willing to reply to Jarod’s words.  

Parker walked over to the door and called for a sweeper to come in, obviously noting the pretender's discomfort. "Release him, and find him a shirt." She commanded when the two sweepers appeared in the doorway.

Sydney watched as Jared stared down the sweeper that entered to release him. As the handcuffs fell from Jarod’s wrist,  Sydney helped his protégé sit up and rest against the wall. He immediately moved to check Jarod’s pulse, while feeling his forehead for an indication of how bad his fever was.

"You can do the Nanny routine in the Simlab Sydney.. Boy Wonder has a lot of files to go through." Parker announced impatiently, moving towards the door.

"Parker, Jarod needs rest. His fever is terribly high, much worse then earlier this morning. I don't want him exerting himself, not yet."

Jarod shakily got himself to his feet, gently pushing away from his mentor. "There's no time Sydney. If we are going to beat them, we will have to act soon." Sydney sighed in frustration.

Years of Centre conditioning had taught Jarod to ignore the inherent physical limitations of his body. Minimal sleep, minimal food and maximum exertion, Sydney wondered how long his protégé could go on in his current state without having a physical collapse.

The pretender shakily made his way to Parker and the awaiting sweeper, who held out a shirt that the pretender gratefully accepted. He pulled it over his head and turned to face Parker, who was blocking the door.

“Is there something else?” He asked tiredly.

"Hands Jarod." Parker demanded.

"We just went through this, I said I was cooperating." Jarod scowled, his hands firmly planted at his sides.

Parker scoffed. "If I have learned anything, it is that men will say pretty much anything to get what they want. I will not ask you again Jarod – hands."

The pretender glared at her as he allowed the sweeper to restrain him without resistance.

“Happy now, Miss Parker?” He asked.

Sydney was relieved that Miss Parker ignored the pretender, instead directing the two sweepers to escort the pretender back to the laboratory.

“Syd, I want you to keep a close eye on him. He is not to go anywhere near a computer is that understood? I’ll send Broots down to support Jarod.”

Sydney considered that statement. “Jarod is not going to like that Miss Parker.”

“This isn’t a five star hotel Syd. Wonder boy will have to man it up like the rest of us.”

With that, Sydney was left standing alone in the hallway. He had a feeling it was going to be a long afternoon.