Chapter # 13 - Transitions

THE TRIUMVIRATE, AFRICA, SIM LAB 4B

So this was it. The end of the line. No place left to go. 

Lys stared blankly at the folder on the table before her. It represented her final chapter, her ultimate choice. Open it and she would officially give them whatever few morsels of her soul she still had control over. Keep it closed, and it was game over as far as the Africans were concerned. Either she would die, or her brains would become so scrambled none of this would matter. It was nice to have options. 

Lys felt like her heart should be thudding in her chest, her breath should be quickened, but oddly enough, she had never felt so calm. Was it calm, or just completely numb? 

Lys allowed her gaze to travel upwards for a moment. She had long given up on the concept of heaven and god, but in times of weakness it was nice to pretend that her father was up there, staring down at her, heart-broken for the treacherous path her life had become. For a few brief moments Lys closed her eyes, and imagined herself comforted by her dad’s strong embrace.

The shrill of the lab phone brought her back to the present, and the manila folder once again became her visual focus. Her guard’s terse responses to the call made it obvious the conversation was about her. Was it time to reveal her decision to Dr. Stone?

As the footsteps approached her, keys jingling, Lys allowed her eyes to drift upwards for one final second. Her decision was made, however she was not about to do things the easy way.She had one last opportunity to put up a fight, albeit a losing one, she would still go down swinging, with every last ounce of strength she had.

Lys remained relaxed as the guard reached down and unlocked her from the table restraints. She limply allowed herself to be pulled upwards with no more courtesy than what would be afforded to a rag doll. Lys suppressed the grimace as the tightness in her joints sent a wave of pain through her tired and battered body.

Impatiently, the guard pushed Lys forward, maintaining a tight hold on her left wrist while he reached around for his handcuffs. Lys tensed and with sudden fury launched herself at the guard with a surprising burst of strength. A smile of satisfaction landed as she managed to yank her wrist free in the process.

Thanks to years of martial arts her mom has subjected her to, Lys knew exactly where to aim to make it count. One unfocused guard was no match for the years of suppressed rage that fuelled Lys’s attack.

Less than a minute later the victorious predictor stood over the unconscious guard. She kicked him on his side before bending down and pulling his gun out of the small leather holster.

It was simply dumb luck that there had only been one goon guarding her today. Maybe some higher force had intervened to allow her this one final spectacle. This may be nothing but a suicide mission, but Lys would see it to the end with everything she had.

Turning around, Lys stared at the two doors. The one she was familiar with led out in to the dark hallway, the other sat beside what was obviously a large two way mirror. It was from this door that Dr. Stone always appeared from.

She would probably get about ten meters in the hallway before she was shot down like a rabbid dog, but who knew what damage she could inflict in Dr. Stone’s office. Without a moment of hesitation, Lys cocked the gun and walked confidently towards the door. Only then did her heart started to thud in her chest. 

THE TRIUMVIRATE, AFRICA, SIM LAB 4A

Jarod absent-mindedly scribbled a few notes on the pad in front of him. It was only a front to keep the guard pacing behind him happy, as any momentary lapse in concentration brought unnecessary attention.

In reality Jarod’s brain was busy trying to decipher whether he should be concerned about Cox’s surprise visit. Maybe the twisted doctor had come by to gloat, but something wasn’t sitting right with Jarod.

Based on his treatment upon arrival in Africa, it had become evident early on that Africans ran a much tighter ship than their underlings back in Blue Cove. Jarod would not bat an eye at having to endure Lyle or Raines’ gloating at his being back in captivity. On the other hand, the Africans were all about business. Everything here had purpose, to the point that Jarod felt is entire existence had been reduced to carefully calculated steps uniquely designed to ensure his unfaltering compliance. Cox would not be given access to him just to share a laugh at Jarod’s expense.

Jarod returned his focus to the notes he was making on the notepad. His former self would be madly trying to find how Cox fit into the puzzle that was now his life. Instead he was sitting here absent-mindedly trying to convince himself that he should care.

Then again why did any of it matter when the innocent victims he knew would soon die at the hands of his genius plagued him constantly. It was a choice that he made, sacrificing the unimaginable number of lives of people he would never know to protect the precious few that he did. Even his family rarely entered his thoughts any more. He didn’t deserve those feelings of belonging or yearning when his own ideas were taking those blessed things away from countless number of families.

The slow opening of the office door from across the room pulled Jarod back to the here and now. He scribbled faster, as if trying to make up for his momentary lapse in concentration, waiting for the purposeful strides of Dr. Masoud. It was time for their trained monkey to perform.

“Drop it.” A strong feminine voice commanded from the across room as Jarod heard the guard behind him cock his own weapon. Jarod raised his head to find himself meeting the intense stare of Lysander, a gun clutched authoritatively in front of her.

“Lys?” Jarod asked in disbelief, unable to articulate the hundreds of questions that erupted simultaneously in his head. How did she end up here in his sim lab? With a gun? The complex was massive, how did she end up here? Shock didn’t begin to describe the confusion Jarod was feeling, yet Lys was reeking of cool, composure. Had she know he was here?

“Silence,” the guard behind him warned the pretender, stepping in the direction of the pretender, while keeping his gun carefully trained on predictor in front of him.

“Why don’t you shut it.” Lys quipped, taking a few steps closer to Jarod and the well muscled guard behind him.

A few months ago, Jarod wouldn’t have hesitated to throw himself at the guard. In this hellhole, the six pictures on the wall to his left and the many more that existed were an invisible noose around his neck. At what level of defiance would Masoud order one of those precious lives extinguished? 

The guard couldn’t help himself as he chuckled. “You really think you are the first project to go disgruntled employee on us? It’s a suicide mission. You won’t make it more than two meters before the inevitable happens.”

Lys was unfazed. “Those are my speciality.” Her angry eyes met Jarod’s for the briefest of seconds. They were so full of desperation; it didn’t take a genius mind to realize that Lys had reached her breaking point.

Jarod’s gaze sunk to floor as a new burst of guilt surfaced. It was unequivocally his faultthat she was here. He had botched the escape from Corporation Zero and had been the one to breathe life back into her causing the suicide attempt at the Centre to fail.

Knowing he owed her, something, Jarod turned to his left, trying to gather strength, or perhaps ask permission from the six people on the wall. Their faces stared back at him, a stark reminder of the potential penalty of his disobedience.

Meeting Lys’s gaze once again, he could gut-wrenchingly see the pleading behind her fiery blue eyes, willing him to do something…anything. One well executed push backwards and the guard would no longer be an issue. Jarod would feel his body start to come alive, tingling with adrenaline and apprehension. Was there even hope of escape? He didn’t know the building and there wasn’t access to the extensive vent network that had been his blessing at the Centre. Even if they got out of the building, what then? He knew the Triumvirate compound was massive from the few satellite photos he had pulled up after escaping the Centre after the last time. It felt like time stood still and yet not even a minute had passed since Lys had entered the room. Jarod was immobilized with ambivalence; never before had he felt so uncertain or unsure of himself.

“Jarod!” Lys hissed sharply as Jarod felt the guard place a threatening hand on his shoulder. She was begging him to snap out of it and take action, instead of standing there like the brain-washed mute they wished him to be.

“That’s it!” The guard commanded with whatever authority he believed he still had. “I want both of you on the ground, hands on your head.”

Jarod looked around nervously, his eyes again looking to the pictures on the left, as his mind tried to reach a decision. The price of failure was unimaginable, but, at the same time, he couldn’t be responsible for destroying Lys’s chance at escape, as miniscule as it was. 

“You might have to aim carefully when trying to take down a prized possession, but I don’t have those kinds of constraints on where I can shoot. So why don’t you take your own advice and get nice and intimate with the floor?” Lys retorted nonchalantly to the guard’s command.

 “It appears we are at a stand-off,” he replied unnecessarily.

 “Not entirely,” Jarod finally spoke, pushing backwards with a sharp movement and twisting as the chair fell onto the lumbering guard. It took only one sharp punch to the surprised man’s face before he slumped to the ground unconscious. Every day he was in here, was another day of condemning innocent people to death. If there was even a minute chance to end the cycle he had to take it, no matter what the consequences, right? 

Jarod stepped back, his heart thudding madly in his chest and he looked back towards the security camera undoubtedly capturing everything that was going on. How long until the cavalry arrived to put him back in his place? There was no taking this back. This was it, their one chance. Failure was simply not an option. 

Jarod jumped as he felt a hand on his forearm, realizing that Lysander had made her way over to him. He turned and met her haunted blue eyes, the physical contact between the two severing awkwardly. 

They stood apart like that for several long seconds, each studying the damage on their respective abused bodies. Jarod could read the hostility directed towards him. He deserved to bear the brunt of the full force of Lysander's suffering. It was his fault; all of this was his fault.

“Now what?” Jarod finally asked after a nervous glance to the door behind him. “Are we really going through with this?”

Lys looked at the guard lying at Jarod’s feet. “Unless you have a time machine, I think we're doing this whether we wanted to or not. Besides the well thought out plan served us so well last time we tried to fly the coop, maybe a bit of spontaneity is just what is needed.”

Jarod looked away guiltily, “I’ve replayed the days, the hours leading up to our recapture a thousand times. I should have known, should have been prepared. Everything that happened the day we were recaptured and afterwards is on my shoulders, and mine alone.”

“Don’t.” Lys ordered fiercely. “Look Jarod, I don’t deny that I haven’t spent many nights hating you for bringing me back to life, causing me to experience all the joys my life became after we left the Centre.”Jarod lowered his head and looked back down to the floor as Lys continued on, “But … the reality is if the situation had been reversed, I probably would have done the same thing.”

Lys gently placed a hand momentarily on Jarod's arm, so he would look at her and whispered, “Jarod, our pathway to this continent has been long and torturous and simply put, it’s probably a miracle I wasn’t shipped over here years ago. It’s been a hard life, and they’ve made it clear to me that I’m no longer a part of their prized fleet. If this is the end, then I’m up for one last fight. I’m going to make my mum proud.” Lys spoke with such conviction; it sent a shiver down Jarod’s spine.

He looked at her intensely. “Who said this was the end of the road? There can always another day, another chance.” Jarod's voice trailed off as he said that last part, as if trying to convince himself. 

Lys turned away in frustration. “Look around you Jarod. What could there possibly be for me to hope for? That they’ll screw up my brains enough that I can be shipped back to New Zealand as a garbling mess? I’m alone in this world. No one cares! There is no miracle to be found in my sordid little life’s tale. Even if there could be, it doesn’t matter anyway.” The anger in the predictor’s tone melted away until her last words were nothing but a broken whisper, “this is my chance.”

Jarod walked towards Lys slowly, and placed a comforting hand on the small of her back. On the rare moments he allowed himself to drift away and imagine a few moments of happiness, it was always touch that he found himself craving whether it be a warm hand to cradle, a comforting squeeze, or a gentle embrace.

“It matters to me.”

Lys hesitated but finally leant into the welcomed soft touch. “I was given my last ultimatum less than an hour ago. Either I become their faithful lap dog, or my welcome mat shall be permanently revoked. Based on my actions in the past five minutes, I think that decision has irreversibly been made.”

Lys lingered slightly but finally stepped away from Jarod’s hand, turning instead to bring her tortured blue eyes to meet his stare. “I can tell by the state of this lab, that you’re busy doing their work, but I also see by the pain in your eyes that they’ve done something terrible to get you to this point.”

Jarod looked down to the floor as he fidgeted with his hands. “They’ve exploited my link to some very special people I met during my years of freedom. I…”

Lys allowed her hand to fall onto Jarod's forearm, forcing his gaze back into her line of sight. “As long as you still feel this pain Jarod, they haven’t won, not entirely. The problem is I don’t feel it anymore, and I don’t think it’s coming back.”

The two stood once again in silence, Jarod contemplating Lysander’s word, and she computing the amount of time that had passed.

“I understand if you can’t come with me Jarod. It’s a suicide mission at best,” Lys stated truthfully.

Jarod looked at the guard that still lay unconscious at his workspace, “It’s too late for me to change my mind, the damage is done. Besides who knows, with two brains as big as ours, maybe we’ll actually make it?”

“You really are the eternal optimist, aren’t you?” Lys commented wryly, following Jarod towards the door.

Jarod felt his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his body kicking into second gear. For the briefest of moments he remembered what it felt like to be free, the luxury of being able to make a choice. He could feel himself being slowly overcome with desire so strong it threatened to take his breath away.

But it wasn’t meant to last; Jarod felt the deep yearning melt instantaneously into the all familiar cocktail of apprehension and despondency. He was reminded of the dead weight around his ankle. He knelt down, pulling up his pant to leg to reveal the tracking device.

 This monkey wasn’t meant to run – not today.

 Years of self-preservation allowed his mind to calculate the only option he truly had, and that was to stay put and wait for Masoud’s wrath. A month ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to bolt, but he was shackled by the pictures on the wall, the happy lives of people he had helped that would remain so at the cost of his cooperation with the devil.

 “With our big brains, it seems only fair that they should be given a head start,” Lys quipped with a trace of a smile, as she lifted her own pant leg to reveal the same piece of equipment.

Jarod kept silent, knowing it was enough to convey the bleakness of the situation. The monitoring anklet was large and cumbersome, nothing other than shorting out the device and electrocuting himself in the process would they be able to negotiate this obstacle.

“I’m sorry Jarod. I’ve done nothing but get you into a pile of trouble. We are sitting ducks with these things on.”

 Jarod just looked sadly at Lys, unable to find anything meaningful to say as he took a step back from the door. 

Lys gave him a sad, knowing smile as she continued to back towards the door, “I’ll see you in the next life amigo.”

 Jarod could see the fire ignited in her eyes, and he had to admire her courage. When he reached the end of his line, it would be nice to think that he would go down with at least the shred of dignity and fight that Lys obviously still had within her. 

Lys was mere inches from the door when it suddenly snapped open. Jarod’s stomach tightened in panic, as he turned away, waiting to find himself facing down the wrong end of a gun barrel. He could almost hear Masoud’s angry voice castigating him.

Instead, a much different tone gave the pretender his second surprise of the day.

“Looks like someone has been a disobediant child,” the accented voice stated in a neutral tone.

Jarod turned around, finding the elderly man with the salt and pepper hair standing before him. He was wearing a grey pin-stripped suit, and nothing about his demeanour suggested he had been sharing cell space with Jarod but a few hours prior.

 Jarod couldn’t find the words to give passage to the million of questions that were flooding into his head. He simply stood his ground waiting to see if the older man would present himself as friend or foe. Lyle had taught him, the hard way, that dangerous men would do anything beyond all moral compasses to survive. Who knew what twisted deal had been reached to land this man back into corporate dignity?

 “Who the hell are you?” Lys spoke, stepping back as the man stepped towards her.

 “Dr. Visser, and you must be Lysander. You were the highlight of the lovely meeting I was just forced to attend.”

 “You leave her alone.” Jarod said forcefully moving in between the two.

Visser simply chuckled. “Relax Jarod; you don’t really believe that after we’ve shared so many nights locked up together that I would be back in my former glory just like that. Quite the contrary, I’m not here to harm you or the little lady.”

“What is it then, you’ve traded something?”

 Visser shook his head looking behind himself nervously. “Today was my judgement day. It’s an old boy’s club, so I was gifted with the luxury of appearing in front of my jury with my last shred of dignity in the form of this suit.”

 “I don’t follow…” Jarod started only to be cut off by the older man.

 “Just shut down that genius brain of yours for a moment. The two of you have about three minutes before this wing will be flooded with guards, and Jarod, I promise you Dr. Masoud will be leading the way. There won’t be enough heartfelt apologies that you can throw at his feet to dig your way out of this canyon of trouble.”

Jarod clenched his jaw as his brain attempted to absorb and conceptualize just how the elderly man had gone from the humiliating zoo cage to here. Everything about this environment was so tightly controlled, how could this man have bettered them?It was the kind of incompetence one would expect at the Centre, but not here.

“How did you get here?” Jarod asked bluntly as the man bent down in front of Lys pulling out a small tool. He made no attempt to answer Jarod’s question, his attention solely on the predictor. “Leg," he commanded. 

 Looking at Jarod expectantly, Lys pulled up her pant leg and in a few short seconds the bracelet fell free from her ankle.

 “How did you get that?” Jarod asked with a more forceful tone. He wanted answers before going any further.

“The moment Lysander’s bracelet was opened, a distress signal was sent back to security headquarters. We have mere moments to act before this building is placed under a pre-cautionary lock-down. You can follow me or go sit at the table and play the part of the well-trained monkey I know Masoud has taught you to become – the choice is yours Jarod.” The elderly man said with impatience as he moved over to Jarod and easily released the pretender from the anklet.

“I don’t trust you,” Jarod informed the man, the obvious suspicion laced into his otherwise mellow tone.

The older man moved to speak, but Lysander stepped in, “We’re buggered either way Jarod. Stupidity is often an effect of desperation, and if we don’t qualify under that category, I don’t know who would.”

Jarod met her eyes, the adrenaline returning to his exhausted body as he once again felt a small flutter of hope. He recognized the flash in Lys’s eye, knowing that she was experiencing the same emotions. Deep down, he knew they had already reached the point of no return.

Lys extended her hand and Jarod grabbed it tentatively. It was a childish gesture, a juvenille attemmpt at comfort. Together they walked towards the door, following obediently behind the older man.

“Who knows, maybe this time, the odds will land on our side,” Lys whispered as they crossed through the door frame.

“What now?” Jarod asked, taking in the eerily silence of the dark hallway.

“We run.”

DOVER GREYHOUND TERMINAL

Broots twitched his nose as the scent of diesel bombarded his nostrils. The smell combined with the dominating rumblings of overused engines created an atmosphere of emptiness. It always seemed to him that bus stations were more for the down-trodden of modern society. With the exception of over-eager college students and a few grandparents who were no longer driving or spry enough for long road-trips, buses were vehicles for the lonely.

He glanced at the nervous teen, noticing the line for the southern bound bus was creeping forward, indicating that boarding had begun.

“Maybe I should stay another week,” the teen offered helplessly.

Broots shook his head firmly. “It’s a new century. You’ve given us everything we need in person. It’s time for this team to become virtual.”

“What if something goes wrong with Lyle and Miss Parker? What if Raines finds out, or worse if the Africans…”

“Jay!” Broots admonished. “For a genius you are pretty doubtful about these plans. Where is that annoying borderline cocky confidence I know exists in your genetic code?”

“I’m scared to see them,” the teen admitted pitifully. Broots shook his head and turned to meet the young pretender head on.

“You told me that Emily was overjoyed when you spoke on the phone.”

Jay shrugged sheepishly, “I hurt my dad, Emily said he’s been in a real bad way ever since –“

“Enough Jay. While I admit that slipping away from your dad and sister in the middle of the night was in poor form, you did what you had to do. Without you Sydney would still be wallowing in his dark house and I would be twiddling my thumbs trying to figure out how to get your brother home. But we have a plan, and it’s all thanks to you. If that won’t make a father proud, I don’t know what will. Hope is one of the most precious gifts a person can give to another, especially in such troubling times.” Broots exhaled, surprised at the amount of breath he still had after his lecture. His lungs were getting used to it.

“What if this doesn’t work?” Jay asked.

“Then we will figure out another plan – together. They have these wonderful inventions called web-cams….” Broots countered sarcastically.

Jay smirked slightly, grabbing the ticket the tech now held in his outstretched hands.

“Thank you Mr. Broots for everything.”

Broots nodded, shaking the teen’s hand with a firm shake. A few weeks ago this situation would have called for a hug, but it was as if Jay had morphed into a card-carrying adult right before his eyes. That was a teenager for you, one part cocky – two parts insecurity.

He stood there with a stupid grin on his face, not moving until a cloud of diesel exhaust sent him into a rough coughing spree.

One errant pretender was being returned to his family.

One more to go.

THE CENTRE, BLUE COVE, DELAWARE

“Make the call Lyle.” Parker commanded fiercely. “This information can’t lie dormant forever. We act on it now, or Jarod will be lost to the Centre forever.”

“I still say that we should inform Raines of this.” Lyle argued annoying.

Parker shook her head in frustration, “He is the last person on this planet who needs to know about this. Raines has had it out for Jarod the moment that he became Sydney’s golden boy. Chairman or not, when it comes to this Centre asset, his vision is clouded. Jarod belongs here, the Centre made him, and I have a feeling that as time goes on we will only begin to realize exactly how valuable he is. When that happens what side of the Atlantic do you want Jarod to be on, Lyle?”

Lyle looked at her with his steely blue eyes. “This isn’t more nonsense about the scrolls is it Parker? Some supposed ancient set of papers. You off chasing your ghosts once again?”

“They were enough to send Daddy out of a plane,” Parker responded callously.

“You know Lyle, Daddy always knew more about this place, where it came from and where it was going than he ever let on. As I’ve told your peanut sized brain multiple times in the last few weeks, he was adamant that I hold onto Jarod and never let go. Jarod is the key. To what I don’t know, but when I find the lock I want to be damn sure I know where he is.”

“We are going in circles with this argument,” Lyle admitted before rising from his desk, giving a long stare out of his window.

“It’s not like we can just sneak Jarod into the Centre and keep him hidden from Raines, we have to tell him something.”

Parker glanced down to a small file folder that she held in her lap. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but Lyle was too much of a lap dog to Raines for there to be any other way.

“What if there was something that could be done to ensure that Raines would no longer be an issue – permanently.”

This caught Lyle’s attention. Always the corporate treasure hunter – for power.

“How?”

Parker fingered the file hesitantly one last time before tossing it towards her brother. “The Centre was started by a Parker, and it should be run by a Parker.”

She felt dirty as the words left her mouth, repeating the same sordid tale of lies her father had used to con her into starting an illustrious career at the Centre.

It was funny how the tired lines still had the power to work.