AQUASTAR CLEANING SERVICES - SIM LAB

Broots found himself once again amazed at exactly how smart Jarod was. He didn't doubt that they had been chasing a genius for the past years, but it was so different to see it in real time.

They had a plan. Correction Jarod has a plan, and by some grace of god, he was sharing it with them. Broots didn't doubt that Jarod pined for the very demise of the Center, but he had overheard Sydney's and Miss Parker's argument in the hallway, and he now realized more thn ever, that as much as Jarod despised the Center, his secrets were hidden deep in their archives. He couldn't let them go, as much as they couldn't let him go.

Jarod was detailing his rescue mission for the missing Center subjects, a woman from New Zealand and two high profile pretenders from Germany. Only after they were successful recovered, could his plan to destroy corporation take into effect.

Broots allowed his thoughts to drift from the current conversation. Lyle and Miss Parker were brutally questioning the pretender, a result of their natural distrust. Broots couldn't help but notice the irony in the fact that man who was about to save them all, stood before them, feet chained and left arm tethered to the table. Jarod had a nasty welt on his face, and he figured by the way Sam was nursing his right hand, that the sweeper had something to do with it.

Broots felt a great deal of remorse, and perhaps if he had more of a spine then maybe he could do something to help the pretender. Jarod had such a kindness about him, a gentle soul, who really cared. Although he was terribly intimidated by Jarod, Broots felt nothing but overwhelming respect for the man, who had saved him from losing his daughter, and would now save him from losing his life.

"Broots."

The tech jumped as he was brought back to reality by the harsh bark from Miss Parker.

"Continue Jarod." She ordered.

The pretender nodded. "We need to get a few people at the Corporation under our payroll, but not just anyone. Broots was able to hack into their system and gain access to their employee list, official and not. We then individually analyzed each person who might be able to gain access or at least have information about our missing people. I have simmed them all, and have come up with our three best options. Once their location is confirmed, the rescue team will be ready to move."

Parker nodded. "I'll send Lyle to convince them."

Jarod shook his head. "No offense, but I don't think he's quite appropriate for the job. These people were selected based on their family ties, and ability to emphasize with our situation. I recommend sending Broots. As a single father of a beautiful daughter, he'll be more likely to sway them."

Parker shot up from her chair. "I refuse to endanger Broots."

Jarod shook his head. "I've simmed it several times Parker. Each of these three people are not main players, but rather trapped in the web of deception within Corporation Zero. Each one is a single parent, just like Broots, and equally as fearful of their position. They will be very empathetic to his cause. There is no way their information can be traced back to them, as there is no way that anyone would ever suspect that these three would have the guts to spill anything. It doesn't always have to be a power struggle, believe it or not, there are still people out there willing to do the right thing. Although if Broots safety is an issue – I would be happy to accompany him for moral support" The pretender finished playfully.

"Do not make light of this Jarod. The next time you will be allowed to step a foot out of this building is when you will transported back HOME." Parker said, studying Broots pale features.

"You will come up with something else. I am not risking a member of my team."

Again Jarod shook his head, gazing apologetically at Broots. "I'm sorry Mr. Broots, there is simply no other option. Lyle will head another mission at the same time, a ruse will you, and this will cast all attention away from Mr. Broots. He'll approach these people in their normal routines, grocery shopping centers, kids swimming lessons, etc. I promise you, he will be safe."

Parker shook her head. "I need time to think, Broots, Sydney, come with me."

Jarod watched apprehensively as the trio left the sim lab, turning his attention back to Lyle and Dr. Klaus whose gazes were focused solely on him.

"This better not be a game Jarod." Lyle threatened.

Jarod rolled his eyes, were they honestly stupid enough to think he would make light of saving their missing pretenders. They were just like him, and no one deserved to be under Alex's wrath. He shuddered thinking what would have happened if Corporation Zero had found him at the hospital before the Center did. Some may say a cage is a cage, but Jarod knew the depths of the evil that lay in Alex's soul –if one could say that he had one, and he had no doubt the man was using his pretender skills to break away at their core, as Jarod could only assume was done to Alex when he was shipped to Africa, after his failed attempt at escape. Jarod and Eddie had been much luckier. He met Lyle's gaze, but refused to reply to the twin, knowing any words he muttered would simply provoke the man.

"Sam, would you put Jarod away for the evening." The twin commanded. Jarod dropped his gaze slightly, he knew Lyle was just trying to provoke him, but it took a lot of swalled pride to not respond to being spoken about like he was some sort of barnyard lifestock.

Jarod maintained a submissive demeanor, as the sweepers unlocked him from the table, and quickly handcuffed his hands behind his back. He knew it was going to be a long night, Lyle had promised him he would be 'punished' for his earlier theatrics – and he didn't doubt that he would be. He uttered a long-winded sigh as they pushed him into the elevator, taking him down to the lower level for the second time that day.

AQUASTAR CLEANING SERVICES – INTERROGATION ROOM B

Broots swallowed nervously, he could not believe what he was about to do. He strode purposely up to the guard outside Jarod's door.

"I need in." He demanded, faking as much confidence as possible.

The sweeper eyed him curiously. "It's 3:30 in the morning. What could you possibly 'need in' for."

Broots pointed at the drawings in his hands. "Miss Parker wants me to finish this report for tomorrow morning." He held up another pad of paper "and I am unable to read Jarod's shorthand."

The guard studied both documents intently, although Broots knew it was well above his comprehension level. "Alright."

Broots nodded thankfully, and waited until the electronic lock was deactivated, before opening the door hesitantly. The tech walked in, his eyes immediately falling on the sole occupant of the room, who was obviously getting about as much sleep as he had been able to. Broots flinched as the door was shut behind him, and the lock was reactivated. He could only imagine the despair Jarod must have felt, hearing that sound every night for over thirty years.

"What can I do for you Mr. Broots?"

The tech stared dumbly at the pretender for a few seconds, taking in his grim appearance. It was clear that the sweepers had gone in on him again. The pretender was huddled in the fetal position, on a small sleeping mat on the floor. His feet were still shackled together, and his hands were loosely restrained by a small chain in front of his body.

"I--"The tech started dumbly. "I needed to ask you a question about your notes – I have to finish that report for Parker by the morning."

"What report –" The pretender started, but halting himself, as he caught onto Broots' charade.

Broots stole a glance at the video surveillance camera in the room, watching as the green light was conveniently deactivated. Jarod didn't fail to notice either.

"Why are you really here Mr. Broots?"

"Do you really think I can do this Jarod?" The tech mumbled, knowing the pretender would know exactly what he was talking about.

"Of course I do. I promise I would not put you in a position that you would be risking your life. Your daughter is much too important. I have full confidence you can do it." Jarod replied, pushing himself up to a sitting position against the wall. Broots didn't fail to notice that the pretender was shivering slightly. Jarod had not been given his shirt back, and the temperature of the lower levels obviously left something to be desired.

Broots nodded. He hadn't really planned his visit beyond this. Hesitantly he sat down beside the pretender, and pulled his prize out of his pocket.

"I know it's not much.' He muttered, but saw how Jarod's features lit up as he caught sight of the package of M&Ms in Broots' hands. Almost a month of green goop, Jarod could feel himself salivating.

"Jarod– I'm sorry. You are saving my life, all of our lives. You don't deserve to be treated this way." Broots mumbled as he passed the M&M's over to Jarod, who immediately tore open the package, dumping nearly half the contents into his mouth.

The pretender smiled sadly, after finishing off his mouthful. "I…"He stopped himself short. Tonight was not the night to angst over Center politics. "You better let me make some notes on that paper to keep up your charade."

Broots nodded mutely, as he passed over the pad, holding it on Jarod's lap, as the pretender struggled to write with his restrained hands. "Parker really does want this for tomorrow; she just didn't specify am or pm. I just found sleep wasn't finding me tonight, so I figured I might as well be productive. Deciphering your shorthand Jarod is nearly impossible."

The pretender smirked. "That's the idea Mr. Broots, although I've been trying to stay away from my own personal style for your benefit. Sometime, old habits just kick in." Jarod had developed his own shorthand, understandable only by him. In a place where your every move was recorded, it was the only way he could keep his thoughts private. The Center had actively discouraged it over the years, but Jarod had refused to let go.

"How's your daughter?" Jarod questioned the tech, shifting the conversation away from himself.

"Being away from Debbie is .. well it's hard. Sometimes I can't believe how much she has grown. She's off to college in a year!!"

The pretender nodded in amazement. "Where is she staying now?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

"She was accepted into a French Language Bursary program, she left a week before this whole mess started for Paris – a whole semester abroad. Thankfully she is safely hidden away from this mess."

Jarod's face lit up at the mention of Europe. "I always intended to spend more time in Europe. She must be having a wonderful time."

"Judging by her emails that is exactly what she is doing." The tech replied. "I was hoping to get some vacation time this month to go visit her, but -." The pretender nodded his understanding. Although a rescue plan had been drafted, there was still many weeks of hard work left before the threat from Corporation Zero was completely different.

Broots checked his watch. Time was nearly up before his camera loop was over.

"I'll do it Jarod. If it's the only thing that will save our lives, I'll do it. What choice do I have?"

The pretender nodded, handing the now empty candy wrapper to Mr. Broots. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position Mr. Broots, there really is no other option. I would do it for you if I could. But –I know you can do this."

The tech nodded. "I have to, for my daughter, so she'll have a dad to come home to."

Jarod nodded in resignation. He hesitated momentarily, before pushing himself up to the ground; awkwardly approaching the tech. Broots noticed a grimace of pain on Jarod's face as he pushed himself upwards.

"Mr. Broots, I need a favour." He asked, his brown eyes spoke of grief.

"Anything Jarod. I will always be in debt to you for what you did for me and Debbie, let alone this whole mess."

The pretender reached out for the pad and pencil in Broots' hand. He quickly scribbled down an email address and a quick shorthanded message. "I need you to send an email for me."

The tech stood back in shock. "I can't Jarod, the triumvirate is monitoring EVERY communication that comes in and out of this building and dissecting every individual character."

The pretender shook his head. "Not now Broots. I need you to this if ….If I'm returned to the Center after this is all said and done."

"Your family" Broots questioned?

The pretender shifted his gaze to the floor. "Jay should be able to decipher my shorthand. They need to know I'm alright."

"Of course Jarod, I won't forget, I promise. Although I'm sure I won't need to." Broots replied guiltily, knowing it was one of his software programs that had driven Jarod away from his family the last time, never mind his capture. "Although maybe I should add this account to my daily search queue." The tech lamely joked.

Jarod just smiled sadly. "It's an old account, hopefully my Dad will still be checking it. We lost touch, after the last time."

The beeping on Broots watched alerted the duo to the fact the camera was due back on momentarily. The tech held up the pad. "Thanks for assistance Jarod." He stated artificially as the green light came back on.

Jarod just nodded weakly, sinking himself back onto the sleeping mat as the tech was released from the room by the guard outside the room. Thinking of his family left his already aching body feeling raw. He had been internally debating for the last week to ask the tech for assistance in getting a message out to his family, but his lack of privacy had made it impossible. The Major and Jarod had set up a simple email account that was only to be used in times of absolute emergency. He didn't wish to put his family in danger, but he knew from experience that knowing was simply better than not. Upon capture, he had been fairly confident an escape opportunity would present itself in a timely manner. However the days had quickly turned into weeks, and he was begin to doubt he would be able to make it away before he was returned to the Center. After that, he knew his days would be preciously numbered before the Triumvirate would again exert their powerful hold on the Center, and demand his transfer.

Lyle had made a bit show of bringing the sleeping mat into the cell after the sweepers had finished their 'session' with the pretender. Jarod didn't have to ask to know he had been permanently removed from his relatively comfortable room upstairs, and he would be spending anytime outside the simlab in the barren cell he now occupied. He supposed he should be grateful for the mat, but he knew it had been given him just to reinforce their control over him.

The sweeper stepped into Jarod's cell a few minutes after the tech had left. "You tell him everything he needed?" He threatened.

Jarod ignored his question. "Why don't you leave the thinking up to the big boys?"

The sweeper ignored the pretender's barb. "You two seemed awfully chatty for a few scribbles on the piece of paper."

"Well that's why you're not paid to think. Like I said, the thinking is much better done by those of us with better assets up here." The pretender responded, pointing to his head.

"Get up." The sweeper said evenly.

"What?" Jarod growled.

"You heard me, get up." The sweeper repeated.

"If your bored, may I suggest the Times crossword. It may prove to be a bit challenging for someone of your intelligence level but I-" Jarod was cut off as the sweeper moved over to him and landed a solid kick in the pretender's gut.

"Don't make me ask again."

Evilly eyeing the sweeper, Jarod painfully rose to his feet. He was quite accustomed to being provoked by the evening guards, their shift mundanely boring. As a child he had been regularly punished for crying out in his nightmares when the guards felt it so necessary. Jarod allowed himself to be pushed against the wall. The guard quickly patted down his legs and ran his hands around the waistband of Jarod's pants. The sweeper finally seemed satisfied after kicking over the sleeping mat. He released his hold on Jarod's neck. "Can't have you pulling your slippery finger stunt again, can we?"

Jarod just stared at him in contempt.

"Now be a good boy and go to sleep." The sweeper mocked as he left the pretender alone again. Jarod sighed as he sunk down into the corner of his cell. He had stolen a look at the sweepers watch, and it was slightly past four am. He would be collected in as little as an hour to go to the showers before being escorted to the simlab. No more sleep would be visiting him this night. So Jarod did what he did best, he sat, and stared at the wall, his brain working in overtime.

He had one more trick up his sleeve, one last viable escape attempt, but it was going to take the pretend of a lifetime.

But he would do it, he had to.