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SEATTLE GENERAL HOSPITAL, AMBULANCE BAY

Ten hours was all it took. No sooner than one hour after Parker had expressed her urgency to located Jarod, had Broots pulled up a potential hit. Over the years, Broots had enjoyed plenty of downtime between Jarod's random clues to his whereabouts. He had used this time to create dozens of software packages. Currently his software had the capability to search any police, ambulance or fire scanner for anyone matching Jarod's description or anyone using the first name Jarod. Hospital admission records were scanned on an hourly basis. It had been a tremendous task, but in the seven years of the Jarod hunt, Broots had a lot of time he needed to appear busy. Idle hands were never a good thing in the Centre, especially with Lyle and Raines at the control tower.

Broots' software had pulled up a hit for a Jarod Nestle being submitted to Seattle General Hospital, with a deathly allergic reaction. Broots fondly recalled the time that Lyle had led him and Miss Parker on a kinky merry-go-round chase. Besides some great images of Miss Parker and whip that were sure to stay with him for the rest of his life, Broots remembered Jarod's allergy to pistachio nuts. Nestle, was exactly the kind of last name that Jarod would had been using. Broots had a hunch, and he hoped to god he was right.

Parker had immediately reported Broots' finding to Raines and Lyle, and within the hour the gang plus Lyle and faithful sweeper Sam had boarded the Centre jet. Some quick thinking by Parker, the Centre office in Seattle was able to prepare FBI identification for the gang.

Never before had Miss Parker shown such passion for capturing Jarod. It was almost of if she had grown content with her gun-wheeling, stiletto chasing act as she negotiated Jarod's carefully planned mazes. The Centre had always been desperate to reobtain Jarod, but never Parker, not like this.

Some ten hours later, the gang had just arrived via some snazzy FBI wannabe cars, provided by the local Center office, and now stood at the entrance of Seattle General Hospital.

Broots glanced over to Sydney and could tell the Belgian was greatly distressed. He wasn't sure what had set the psychiatrist off, where it Lyle's smug look, the false warrant that claimed Jarod as a murderer, or was it the uncertainty that his protégé had indeed survived another deadly allergy attack. Hell none of the gang even knew if it was in fact Jarod in there.

Miss Parker's commanding voice brought Broots out of his reverie. "Broots watch Dr. Freud, make sure he doesn't do anything you're going to regret. Sam, Lyle, with me."

Broots watched as the three of them strode into the emergency wing of the hospital. He couldn't decide if he was hoping they emerged with Jarod or not.



EMERGENCY WING, SEATTLE GENERAL

Jarod's first thought when he returned to consciousness was off the immense pain in his throat. He felt like he had been through one of Lyle's jumper cable torture sessions about a hundred times over. Struggling through the fuzz in his head, Jarod squinted his eyes open.

A nearby nurse noticed the motion coming from her formerly unconscious charge and called down the hall for a doctor. Striding over to Jarod "Mr. Nestle! How are you feeling?"

Jarod's grimaced as he tried to swallow was enough response for her. Supporting Jarod as she eased into a reclined position, the nurse looked at him with concerned eyes.

"You know where you are? Why you're here?" She questioned.

Jarod nodded his head, berating himself in his head for not noticing the pistachio nuts in those god damn cookies. "How long have I been out?" He managed weakly, as the nurse held a small cup of water to his mouth.

"About ten hours, give or take. You gave us quite a scare Mr. Nestle." At the mention of his Seattle assumed last name, Jarod startled. "Shit." He exclaimed loudly.

The nurse mistook Jarod's anxiety and continued. "It was quite the reaction you had. The doctors weren't sure if you were going to pull through. I can assume this is not your first serious reaction to the nuts. You know you should really carry an epi-pen, if it hadn't been for the kid with the bee allergy you -"

The nurse's voice trailed off as Jarod sat up suddenly. The ambulance crew had obviously found Jarod's Seattle Driver License he had carried in his wallet. Being checked into the hospital as an anonymous John Doe would have bought him valuable hours from the Center's constant eye. If the hospital had identified him as Jarod Nestle, it wouldn't be long until the Centre caught wind.

Jarod pulled himself to a standing position as he mentally calculated the flying hours from Blue Cove to Seattle. Ten hours unconscious, he had to leave now! Pushing the frantic nurse aside with much more force than he meant, Jarod stumbled to the doorway, yanking out his IV as he tore out of the room. He needed out. Jarod looked desperately from left to right, surveying the hospital wing. He saw the main reception to the left and instinctively moved away from it, to the right. Jarod maintained his frantic pace as he stumbled his way desperately an exit.. any exit. Behind him he could hear the cries of the nurse he had left at his bedside.

Jarod's heart thudded with relief when he spotted the stairway exit to the parking garage. He threw himself through the doorway, wondering exactly where he was planning on going in the thin hospital gown that barely covered his necessities.

Jarod paused momentarily, grasping his hands tightly around the stair railing. He was rewarded with the familiar sound of a gun click. "Turn around Jarod." An all too familiar voice sneered.

Jarod turned around slowly, matching eye contact with his pursuer.


"Parker."

"Time to suit up genius, you're coming home." Parker commented confidently, no doubt smirking at the pretender's rather unfortunate state of dress.

Jarod opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly distracted as Lyle, Sam and his nurse burst into the staircase.

"Mr. Nestle, you must come back to bed-!" The nurse said desperately, stopping when she noticed the 9mm firmly in Parker's grip, and pointed directly at her patient.

Jarod leaned heavily on the staircase.

Lyle stepped forward. "We have a warrant for Mr. Nestle's arrest." He flipped his fake Center provided badge, ignoring Jarod's flabbergasted look. The nurses disapproving stare left no doubt in Jarod's mind that she bought the well planned Centre charade.

Jarod looked desperately at Miss Parker as he felt Sam's presence behind him.

"A warrant?" he sneered accusingly, as he heard the clanging of handcuffs.

Lyle turned and faced Jarod, clearing enjoying the moment as evident by the wide smirk on his face. As Sam pressed Jarod against the wall, yanking his hands and securing tightly behind his back, Jarod was sure he heard Lyle reciting him his Miranda rights.


Northern Alberta, Canada

Lys fidgeted uncomfortably, the chains encircling her limbs jingling softly with her jerky movements. Across the plane Conrad glanced over at her. "Sit still." He commaned, and then returned to his mobile.

Lys sighed. As if she had any other choice. She had been strapped down since their plane had left New Zealand heading in what Lys had hypothesized as the direction of North America.

There had been a brief refueling layover somewhere on the West coast, or so Lys had figured. She had watched hopefully as Conrad and the four sweepers accompanying her had gotten off the plane in shifts, returning with wonderful smelling dinners.

Food was not offered to Lys, but she was given a two minute comfort break after swallowing her pride and requesting one from Conrad.  

Lys turned her attention to the snowy landscape visible through the small plane window. Lys and her mother had always talked about taking a skiing vacation to the Canadian Rockies. Here she was, seventeen plus years later, finally setting foot in North America. She had to enjoy the irony.

After the refueling, the plane had taken off for a much shorter leg, no more then two hours by Lys's best estimate. She had craned her neck on landing and had been rewarded with views of snowy mountains. This was not how she had envisioned her Canadian skiing dream vacation.

The plane had now been at a standstill for what Lys assumed to be about 30 minutes. When they landed Conrad had quickly surveyed the surroundings. "Bloody ride isn't here." He had mumbled, obviously annoyed.

The sweepers had seemed content to leave Lys tethered in the uncomfortable airplane seat. Currently they were outside the plane, assigned to lookout duty by Conrad. He seemed urgent to get them out of here. For once Lys almost agreed with him. After what felt like a lifetime on the airplane, barely able to move a muscle, Lys was hungry, thirsty and most of all desperate for a chance to use the washroom. As usual Conrad was ignorant to Lys's primal needs. Nothing had changed in the ten years she had spent under his supervision, and as usual, Lys refused to satisfy him by begging, once on this trip was enough.

Lys again yanked impatiently against the chain encircling her right wrist. Conrad looked up, the smirk of satisfaction firmly implant on his face. "Not comfortable, pet?" Lys looked away, willing herself not to engage in a verbal battle of wills with Conrad. Fortunately a sweeper chose that moment to re-enter the cabin.

"Sir– the convoy was just spotted. They are making their way straight to hangar." Conrad shut his mobile shut instantly.

"Go meet them, and ensure they have adequately secure transportation for Lysander. I didn't fly all the way here just to have her disappear in a damn snow bank."

"Yes sir!" The young sweeper said enthusiastically, swinging around. Conrad glanced at Lys thoughtfully, but quickly returned to his mobile, dialing a new number. Lys threw her head against the seat in frustration. 'Soon' she thought, acutely aware of her screaming bladder and throbbing muscles.

Both Lys and Conrad bolted upright instant later as the sound of gunfire erupted into the air. Lys counted 15 shots. Conrad rushed to the window and swore loudly. Still on his mobile he snapped "You promised this airport plane would be secure!" As the mystery man on the other end of the line spoke Lys could see Conrad's fist tighten with anger as the other man spoke.

"Yes sir. I remember the contingency plan."

Throwing his mobile against the plane wall, Conrad turned to Lys, pulling his 9 mm out from behind him.

"Nothing personal pet. We just can't let them have you."

"Them?" Lys questioned desperately as Conrad approached her, his 9mm firmly targeting her skull. Lys cringed as Conrad started to squeeze the trigger, the sound of a gunshot loudly piercing the air.

Private Airport, Outskirts Seattle Washington

A few thousand kilometers away Jarod sat miserably aside Sam, the sweeper keeping a careful watch on their catch of the day. He was still somewhat flabbergasted at the rendition of the wholesome American show Cops, that Parker and Lyle had put on at the hospital. Jarod had not forgotten Angelo's vague email, and he had a hunch that this mysterious Corporation Zero was intertwined in this whole mess. The Centre wouldn't risk impersonating federal officials over just anything, and although they were desperate to get him back, he doubted that his recovery was the sole motivation behind the charade.

Rolling his shoulders slightly, trying to ease the strain in his arms caused by having his hands restrained behind him, Jarod scanned the area discreetly. He could see Parker and Lyle talking with the pilot outside the Centre Jet. Broots and Sydney were waiting patiently outside the van.

Jarod sighed loudly. His body was still recuperating from the near deadly allergic reaction. He was exhausted, his muscles screaming for relief. Jarod could feel the cold sweat on him, the mixture of overexertion and anxiety at his current situation taking its toll. Jarod shook his head briefly, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed his brain at top capacity, ready to capitalize at any opportunity of escape.

Peering again outside the window, he caught Sydney's concerned gaze briefly. He could see the Parker twins striding confidently towards the van. Parker pulled the door open, not meeting Jarod's stare. "Sam, get him ready." She commanded.

Jarod grimaced as the burly sweeper roughly pulled him out the van, his iron grip keeping a tight hold on the pretender's arm. The brisk Seattle wind cut straight through Jarod, causing him to shiver violently. Fortunately, thanks to Sydney's negotiations, Jarod had been allowed to return to his hospital room, and receive his final check out from the doctor. Sydney had located the pretender's belongings, and Jarod had been able to change out of the hospital robe into his own clothes, restoring a small amount of the pretender’s dignity.

"Jarod how you feeling?" Sydney's concerned voice questioned, as the Belgian stepped up to his protégé, placing a hand on Jarod's forehead. "You're feverish.” the shrink answered for him.  “Parker - we need to get him out of the cold."

Jarod heard a clanging coming from Lyle's direction, and looked over to see Lyle approaching him, leg irons outstretched in his hands. Jarod took a step back instinctively, and was quickly slammed headfirst into the side of the van by Sam. He let an inaudible groan of frustration. Here he was, recovering from a nearly deadly allergic reaction, barely able to stand, let alone run, and they were keeping him more restrained than a rabid dog.

Jarod could hear Sydney's protest. "Parker. Are those really necessary? We need to get him inside, he should still be in the hospital.I doubt he could outrun me right now, let alone Sam."

"Jarod's a big boy." Parker replied, uncaringly.

After Lyle had finish securing the chains around Jarod's ankles, Sam roughly pushed him forward, towards the plane. Lyle smirked at Jarod, taking in the pretenders pale face. "Hometime Jarod!" Ignoring the taunt, Jarod gingerly moved forward, the chains encircling his ankles combined with his fever induced dizziness were overcomplicating the walking process immensely.

As the group approached the plane, the pilot hopped out, a mobile clutched in his hands. "Mr. Lyle sir, the Tower wishes a word."

Lyle grabbed the phone roughly from the pilot. "What." He spoke harshly in a tone rivaling that of his twin's. Jarod's brow lifted as Lyle's expression tightened. "Understood. We will depart instantly." Looking up to Parker he continued. "All Centre planes are grounded. We travel by road."

Parker nodded to Sam, whose grip tightened automatically on the Pretender's arm as he whipped his charge around like a disobedient child. Jarod strained against the sweeper to look back towards the plane, and could see Lyle and Parker deep in discussion. He frowned, noting the truce that seemed to exist amongst the twins. What exactly would scare Parker into working willingly with her manic murdered of a twin brother? And what would ground Centre aircraft? This was big.



Northern Alberta, Canada

Lys threw her eyes open as the gunshot echoed through the cabin of the plane. Breathing sharply she surveyed her slender form, quickly concluding that she was still intact. Glancing down, her eyes widened as she caught sight of Conrad's fallen form, blood oozing from a single bullet wound to his head.

Moving her attention across the cabin, Lys sat stunned as ten men, clad in black assault clothing piled into cabin, each of their assault rifles pointed directly at her. A man of average height, and brown hair approached Lys saucily, his eyes taking her slender form in hungrily. Reaching down to Conrad's corpse, he felt until he pulled out the keys that would free Lys from her bonds.

"Lysander." He stated, as she matched his gaze. "Welcome to Corporation Zero." He bent down and released her. Lys jumped up, her muscles screaming in relief. Wary of the ten guns still trained upon her, Lys took a ginger step forward.

Glancing again at Conrad's fallen form she glared at the brown haired man. "Thanks. He was a real pain in my ass."

"They said you were spirited." The brown haired man replied, as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "I believe you know the drill." He said pointedly, indicating the restraints he held in his hands.

Lys cocked her head. "I think you are going to have to refresh my memory there mate." With that Lys took off with lightening speed towards the back of the cabin, diving when a shot rang out. It really wasn't the most intelligent of plans, but Lys refused to be taken easily.

Looking back over her shoulder, Lys could see the brown hair man held his gun horizontally, a bullet hole evident in the window infront of him. "That was your only warning Lysander. Next one goes through your knee."

Conscious again of the nine other guns trained upon her, Lys remained on the ground, submissively placing her hands behind her back. She closed her eyes tightly as the footsteps quickly surrounded her.

Lys jerked back when a hand carefully brushed her long blond hair behind her ear. The brown hair man moved his hands down and restrained the predictor. He used his boot to force Lys onto her side.


She met his gaze defiantly, as he grabbed a section of her hair, giving it a painful tug so she would lift her head in his direction.


"There is nothing I love more then a misbehaving lady. Don't test me girl." With that he yanked Lys to her feet, and tossed her into the group of men. "Load her in the truck." As Lys was dragged out of the plane, she glanced back at Conrad's corpse, disgusted at the small feeling of remorse that was growing within her.



CENTER TRANSPORT VAN, EN ROUTE TO WASHINGTON STATE SAFE HOUSE

Jarod was cold. He shivered violently, failing to suppress the coughing fit that quickly followed. Beside him, Sydney placed a comforting hand on the pretender's shoulder, draping his blazer over the pretender's chest.


"Parker. Jarod's fever is worsening. We must stop soon for the night." Sydney pleaded.

Jarod could hear the rustling of a map, as Broots attempted to navigate. The group was heading for a nearby Centre safehouse somewhere in the Washington countryside. "Left at the next road, and we should be pretty much there." The tech mumbled.

Jarod pressed his face against the window, barely able to stay awake, cursing himself for failing physically. They were driving through thick forest, the sky dark on the moonless winter night. In better health, it would be the ideal location to make a run for it. He could easily disappear into the dense forest. Thankfully it wasn't long before Sam turned the van down a lumpy driveway, stopping beside an impressive three storey stone house.

Parker and Lyle immediately went to survey the inside with Broots trudging along. Sydney stayed behind, no doubt to continue his careful watch over his ailing pretender.

Jarod put up no protest as Sam guided him out of the van after Lyle had given the sweeper the go ahead, wobbling slightly as the sweeper harshly pushed him forward toward the house. It was very obvious that the sweeper had some unresolved issues with the pretender, most likely over Jarod's last escape from Centre custody, while enroute to Africa.

The warmth from the house was welcome relief to Jarod as he was guided through the frontdoor. His body did not react well to the sudden temperature change and he immediately fell victim to another violent coughing fit, causing the pretender to lurch out of Sam's grip on his shoulder. Sydney quickly step forward and guided Jarod towards a comfortable looking couch, barking an order at Broots to prepare some tea.

"Save the touching father and son routine Sydney." Lyle mocked as he pulled open the basement door. "Center property stays in the basement. Lets go Jarod."


Jarod squeezed his eyes shut, as Sam pushed Sydney aside, returning once again to Jarod's side, redirecting the pretender towards Lyle. Jarod had no choice but to allow himself to be ushered across the room, as he was still carefully restrained at the ankles and wrists. He could hear Sydney protesting behind him to Miss Parker.

"Relax Syd, you can do the mommy routine after Jarod is secured for the evening." Was his huntress's snarky reply.

Descending down the stairs, Jarod was instantly greeted by a chill, the basement definitely lacked the inviting warmth of the house upstairs. The basement walls were done in large menacing stone, remnant to the exterior of the house. At the bottom awaited several doors, each with the familiar electronic lock that Jarod had come to loathe in his years at the Centre.

Lyle carefully keyed the passcode to the second door on the right, the electronic click indicating the lock had been disabled. He opened the small door, allowing Sam to usher Jarod in. The sweeper wasted no time in shoving the pretender against the wall, searching him briefly before undoing his restraints.

"Sweet dreams Jarod." Lyle said sarcastically as he and Sam exited the room, the door closing harshly behind them. Jarod flinched as the electronic lock was activated. He swallowed, trying to control the familiar feeling of panic from creeping up. It was if he could feel the stone walls encroaching in on him.

Surveying his surroundings as best he could in the dark windowless room, Jarod sunk miserably into a corner. The cell was barren save the security camera above his head, and a small toilet. Hugging his knees desperately, Jarod lowered himself to a lying position on the ground as he shivered violently. Desperation was setting in. Even if escape presented an opportunity, Jarod knew he wouldn't get far in his current condition. He was trapped.

Jarod quickly shifted his thoughts to his Seattle apartment. Closing his eyes, he visualized the welcoming smile of Mrs. Finnegan. His panic dissipated as he recalled the many conversations the two of them had shared in the past few weeks. His thoughts turned to his father, and Jay, his clone. He would get through this next test with the Center. He would so he could see his father, drink tea with Mrs. Finnegan, finally meet his mother. Jarod's features relaxed as he imagined himself fishing with his father, drifting into a exhausted sleep as his imagination drove his fears away.











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