TRIUMVIRATE AIR STRIP –THE CONGO, AFRICA

Henrik shook himself awake, as he became aware the airplane was no longer in motion. He glanced over at the guard to his right, whose gesture implied he was to remain seated. The young pretender tapped his hand on the seat nervously. He had never predicted that he would end up here, shipped over to Africa, a punishment usually reserved for the disobedient. But no, Henrik’s skills had been requested for a special project, for which he knew nothing about. All that the young man knew is that his world had been turned upside down the second he had arrived at the Aquastar complex in the United States. Here he was now in Africa, a voiceless pawn in whatever project they would make him complete. He didn’t have to be a pretender to suspect this had something to do with Jarod yet again. Henrik had really hoped he was done with the older pretender once and for all. However, it was not mean to be, and here he was in Africa, the last place on earth he wanted to be.

Henrik sighed heavily as his thoughts turned to Jarod. At Aquastar, he had been forced to ‘keep the older pretender honest’ so to speak; he knew the name for someone who did that job: snitch. Henrik was terribly confused at the turmoil he felt within, torn between being the good little project who faithfully served his masters, and a traitor betraying a man who was a prisoner just as he was. Change the continent; add a few years and the keepers around him, how different was he from Jarod really?

Henrik was far from a gifted pretender. He had heard Dr. Klaus refer to him as mediocre at best. However, in his defence, his abilities also closely overlapped with that of an empath. This combined with his high intellect gave him the unique capability to be able to see through the most guarded of minds such as Jarod’s.

Jarod had been so angry, so defiant, and Henrik knew the pretender was now likely here at the Triumvirate headquarters. He had never seen Dr. Klaus as delighted as the day that he had informed Henrik that they had successfully retrieved all missing subjects from Corporation Zero, and that Jarod, despite a desperate attempt to escape with one of them, had been returned to custody. Henrik acted like he didn’t know what they wanted him to do in Africa, but he knew it likely had to do with Jarod. Was he here again, to act as the unseen hand that would verify that Jarod wasn’t being deceiving? Or did they have something grander in mind? His life had spiralled into disarray the second Jarod had been brought into it. He felt nothing but anger and resentment towards the disobedient pretender. Henrik had been just fine until Jarod had come along. Here he was sitting on some dusty airfield in Africa, far away from everything familiar and comforting.

Henrik really didn’t care about what they wanted him to do. He just wanted to get his job done, and return to the comfort of the complex in Hamburg. He had been born there, raised there; it was all he knew.

If only it was that simple. Henrik was terrified that if he did his job too well, that his destiny would be rewritten, landing him here permanently. Nothing scared him more than the thought of being a Triumvirate project. A lifetime of this; he couldn’t imagine anything more terrifying.

LA PLAYA DE CIELO RESORT - MAZATLAN, MEXICO

“Dad!” Jay announced excitedly. “I’ve finally got the satellite images!”

Jay gave Emily an eager smile as she got up from the table across from him. She stood to his left, as the Major moved across the room. The two siblings didn’t fail to notice the newfound energy that appeared in the Major’s steps, something that had been lacking in the last week. This was their first real breakthrough in what would hopefully form their eventual escape plan to rescue Jarod. Hope was something that had been greatly lacking amongst them, until now.

Jay felt a swelling of pride, as his dad squeezed his shoulder. “Nice work son, let’s open them up.”

Expertly manipulating the keyboard, Jay called up the first of the images. “My god.” Major Charles whispered, sinking into the seat beside Jay. “It’s massive.”

Jay instantly stopped his typing. He was stunned by the acres of land the Triumvirate complex took up. Massive was an understatement. Zooming out, he was disheartened to find absolutely nothing existed within miles of the complex. It was surrounded by nothing but arid land, with minimal vegetation. A few villages existed on the outskirts, likely only there to provide housing for Triumvirate employees. How would they ever be able to penetrate let alone approach the complex without detection?

“There must be over fifty buildings.” Emily whispered. “But how?”

“Corruption.” The Major informed his daughter. “The Centre is at least bound by the unofficial requirements of trying to blend into American Society. The government would never support the true nature of its existence, at least officially, although we all know the real truth. It doesn’t work that way in Africa. If the right people wave the green, anything is possible. Corruption rules the roost. They don’t have to hide their dirty work underground, so why should they?”

Emily looked between Jay and her father. “That should make it easier to get to Jarod, no? Once we find out what building he is in?”

Jay and the Major shared a desperate look, as the realization of the actuality of the situation slowly came into focus.

“We can’t get to Jarod, Emily.” Major Charles stated. Jay had never heard such desolation in his father’s tone.

“I don’t understand? There are a lot of buildings, but -”

“It’s not what’s inside the fence that is the problem Em.” Jay started. “It’s what’s on the outside, or lack there of. It’s practically a desert! There will be some vegetation, but nothing that could give us any kind of cover. Just a few small villages exist around the perimeter. There is nowhere to hide, nowhere for us to blend in. The villages likely exist just to provide housing to those who work inside their fences, any newcomers would be much too obvious.”

The major knocked his chair over in frustration. “Damn it! I promised him we would come for him. How can I leave Jarod behind, after all of this? I’ve failed my family, and once again I can nothing but sit on the sidelines and wait.” The Major growled, his voice projecting nothing but anger and defeat.

Jay slowly stood up from his laptop, and walked over to his father. “Dad, there is always a way. Nothing is impossible. I can find a way.”

The Major let out a sigh as Emily moved in beside Jay. He pulled his two children into his arms. “We will never give up for Jarod’s sake, but we will not be going to Africa. We will just have to wait patiently, and pray that he is returned to the Centre. Until then, we need to focus on being a family. It’s what Jarod would have wanted.”

“But Dad, I’ll think of something, I promise!” Jay protested, refusing to accept the reality of the situation. He had spent his entire childhood finding possibility in the impossible.

Releasing Jay and Emily, the Major stepped back, giving his younger son a small, sad smile. “You are just like your brother Jay, your determination is unimaginable. But please, look at those maps. There is simply nothing we can do. We couldn’t dream of doing anything without inside help, and while we may have a few unspoiled allies in the sublevels of the Centre, there is no one we can rely on in Africa.”

“But Dad…” Jay once again objected, stopping his pleas, as Emily placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned and faced his sister, his chest tightening, as he saw the tears running down her face.

“One of the hardest things we have to learn in life Jay is when to accept our limitations. I want to believe as much as you do that there is a way to rescue Jarod, but this time, we are simply out of trump cards.”

“You are asking me to give up?” He whispered.

“No little brother, far from it.” Emily told the young pretender, pulling him into a full hug. “I’m asking you not to torture yourself by trying to find an answer where one may not exist. I know what you are feeling Jay, I used to lay awake at night when I was kid, pretending that Jarod and Kyle would magically reappear, so I could take Mom’s pain away, and help us find our way back to Dad. We have to be strong, it’s what Jarod would want.”

“You are talking about him as if he were dead - What Jarod would want for us. Well I can tell you what he wants, and that is to be here with us! I can’t give up, he saved me from them, and it’s my fault he’s not here with us right now. I should have known about the tracking devices!” Jay cried out desperately. “I have to do something to fix this. There has to be something we can do, you can’t ask me to give up. How can I? How can you?”

“We’re not giving up Jay, I promise you.” Emily stated sadly.

Major Charles interjected before Jay could continue his protest.

“No son. It was my fault. We were so close to getting away, your plan was flawless. I pulled the van into the small clearing off the service road. Jarod was in the back, but there was a row of bars separating us. I tried frantically to get the lock open, but I couldn’t, I kept fumbling it! Miss Parker showed up only minutes ahead of the sweepers. Jarod begged me to leave, and I did just that, I fled to save myself, once again failing my eldest son. Hell of a father I turned out to be.”

“Dad…” Emily started, as the Major dejectedly stood up.

“I can still see his face and the tracks of his tears. He was so scared, but trying so hard to be strong. But none of that matters now, I was given a second chance to rewrite history, and once again they have total control over my son because I fumbled the hand I was dealt. Only now it’s even worse with him in Africa. Who knows what they’ll do to him there.” Major Charles concluded bitterly, moving back towards his bedroom. Whatever hope they had all felt minutes before was gone.

Emily and Jay remained standing, arm in arm, as they watched their father retreat into his room. Emily gave her younger brother’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll go talk to him.” She whispered into his ear, before following in her father’s footsteps.

Watching her go, Jay frantically searched his brain. There had to be a way, he refused to give up on Jarod. Limits were not something he was accustomed too, not for someone who had been raised to believe he could become anything he wanted to be, do anything he set his mind to.

Mentally, Jay broke down the problem, attempting to analyse it from the most basic of levels as he had been taught many years ago. If they couldn’t go to Africa to rescue Jarod, then the only other option was to get Africa to bring Jarod to them. A rescue would be much easier to execute from Blue Cove.

Jay’s concentrated features broke into a small grin, as he began to grasp a potential solution to their problem.

He had made a great effort of learning everything he could about the Centre since gaining his freedom, a lesson he had learned from Jarod. Better the devil you know, than the devil you don’t; a tired cliché but one that should be taken to heart whilst dealing with the Centre. The older pretender had made a point of learning as much as he possibly could about his pursuit team, and had consequently overturned many buried secrets. It had allowed Jarod to better predict the path his pursuers would choose, and give him better accuracy in determining their timing, movements and reactions in certain situations. Jarod had told Jay that if he had not made these efforts, especially as they brought in the new players to his pursuit, that he would have been returned to the Centre years ago. It was advice Jay had taken very seriously, and he now could be considered quite the expert on Centre related business.

He was confident that he could simulate a series of manipulations that would cause the key players in Blue Cove to get Jarod back from the Africans.

With a quick glance at the Major’s closed door, Jay could hear the murmured voices. Emily was a godsend, and she was keeping their broken family together by the thinnest of threads. With a guilty revelation, Jay realized that he would have to do this alone. He needed to be close to the Centre in order to do this, and it was simply too dangerous, given the increased search efforts for their family to send anymore than one person to Blue Cove. If Jay were to do this, he would need inside help, in the form of Sydney and Mr. Broots.

His eyes still focused on his father’s closed door, Jay could already hear the argument that would occur if he were to present this idea to his father and his sister. His family would not allow him to go, it was that simple.

But in his heart, Jay knew he had to do this. Life was filled with difficult choices. After spending his entire childhood simulating reality, he had dealt with so few real consequences. He would have to hedge a bet that the bond that existed in his family was strong enough to allow him to do what he knew needed to be done. Jarod’s life depended on it, on him.

Another lesson he quickly learned about life was that a sea of difficult decisions surrounded anything truly worth having and fighting for.

His choice was made.

TRIUMVIRATE HEADQUARTERS –THE CONGO, AFRICA

Jarod swallowed nervously, as his escorts pulled him to a stop. He listened intently through the hood, trying to gauge where he might be, and how many people were around him. The room was eerily silent, only the low hum of what he assumed to be an air-conditioner sounded in the background. Jarod shivered as goose bumps formed on his exposed chest, his only clothing a flimsy pair of scrub like pants. However the cool air was a blessed relief from the overbearing heat in his cell, and for that he could at least be partially grateful.

Jarod grunted as a booted foot struck his legs from behind, causing him to tumble forwards. Knowing hands caught Jarod before his head made painful contact with the ground. He was quickly pulled back until he was stabilized in a kneeling position. Jarod was acutely aware of feet shuffling on either side of him, and two large hands soon pressed down on his shoulders.

Jarod was so tempted to bite out a sarcastic remark, but remained silent. His lip was barely tolerated by those in Blue Cove, and given that Jarod hadn’t been allowed so much as a glimpse of his torturers, he figured now wasn’t the best opportunity to rid himself of some of his pent up anger. He had no concept of where he was, or who was around him. Jarod would not risk taunting those around him, until he could better gauge what he was up against. He shuffled his limbs slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but stopped his movement as he heard a lone pair of footsteps slowly approaching from across the room. The hands on his shoulder tightened their pressure, indicating to Jarod that something was about to happen. He braced himself, the hood greatly handicapping him as he could not predict what was to come. If his past days, week or whatever time had passed indicated anything, it was going to hurt.

Jarod flinched as the hood was suddenly ripped from his head. He blinked quickly in surprise, trying to allow his eyes an opportunity to focus in the dimly lit room. It was the first time the hood had been removed while he was outside of his miserable little cell. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful, or utterly terrified. Curious, he turned his head to the left, only to be rewarded with a fist slamming into his head. Jarod fell to his right until the grip on his shoulders steadied him. Jarod brought his head up in confusion, his blurred eyes finally finding focus on a pair of well-polished dress shoes directly in front of him.

Apprehensively, Jarod brought his head up slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of the man who stood before him. However the instant the two men at his sides became aware of the pretender’s intention, Jarod was painfully thumped from behind. The grips on his shoulders conveniently let go, and he fell the remaining distance to the ground, his cheekbone making contact with the hard floor.

With a heavy sigh, Jarod made a conscious decision to remain where he had fallen. They clearly were trying to prove a point. What their ulterior motives were, he had no idea.

“Shall we try this again?” The man with the shoes questioned lightly, his voice heavily accented with what Jarod assumed to be South African. Jarod tensed, as they were the first words that had been spoken directly to him, since he had woken up in this hell hole.

Jarod swallowed as an attempt to try to lubricate his dry throat. Other than his grunts, groans and at times unwilling screams, he had barely spoken a word since he arrived here. He had sung his nursery rhyme as an attempt to retain his sanity, but after a few days of constant dehydration, even that had become too painful. “Try what?” He croaked, wincing at the weakness that his voice portrayed.

The man chuckled. “Lesson One.”

“And what might that be? How the mighty have fallen?” Jarod questioned sarcastically.

A booted foot instantly landed on Jarod’s ribs with a sharp kick. The pretender winced, but managed to suppress any verbal vocalization of his mistreatment other than a quick intake of breath. He knew there would soon be a nasty bruise forming on his side.

“I don’t know what they allowed back at the stables in Blue Cove, but your lip will not be tolerated here.” The South-African informed. “I suggest you lose it.” The mysterious man threatened.

Jarod smirked. “I’ll take that under advisement.” He braced himself as another kick landed in his ribs. Make that two bruises.

“Let me explain something to you. Back at the Centre, you may have been the prince of the palace, the grand pretender. Here, you are nothing but another disobedient project, a caged monkey. Back home, everyone knew who you were, their cash cow, but here, you are just another faceless man being led around in shackles. No one cares about ‘Jarod’, and with time your faithful followers in Blue Cove will forget. We only want what’s in your head, as of this moment you don’t exist as a person, you will forget any rights you thought you had, the luxuries of your former life are gone. Monkeys don’t have beds, toilets or clothing. They don’t have feelings, and they most certainly do not talk back.”

Jarod snorted. “We’ll then I suppose I should be grateful for the small piece of modesty you have allowed me thus far.” He stated, making a show of tugging on the thin pair of pants he wore.

“That was your last sarcastic remark – I’ll give you that one for free. You are now mine. You may not do a simulation today, you might not even do one this week, but you will eventually do what I command. That my monkey – I can guarantee.”

Jarod clenched his handcuffed hands in anger, raising his head off the ground, defiance glaring in his eyes. He growled in frustration as a foot came over, and roughly slammed his head back to the ground.

“And this brings us back to Lesson number one. Take a long hard look at the floor. Think of it as a metaphor for your life: unimportant, walked over, contaminated. You do not have the right to look me in the eye. You will never again look up unless I instruct you otherwise.”

Jarod found his limbs quivering in anger. He knew the man was needlessly provoking him, and he refused to respond to his taunts. The concept of being their property was not new to him, but something inside, whether his self-respect, or just too much damn testosterone, refused to allow him to submit. With an angry growl, Jarod suddenly rolled over while ignoring the protest his body made, and surprised the man to his right. He lashed out with his feet, easily knocking the guard away before he turned over. He quickly propped himself upwards and met the glare of a tall dark man, with hard features and a greying goatee. The man’s eyes were dark and angry. Conscious of movement on his left side, Jarod smirked and gave the man an exaggerated wink just as he was knocked back to the ground. A foot was planted in the small of his back, rendering him motionless.

“So this monkey has a bit of spunk.” The dark man stated. He walked the short distance over to Jarod’s restrained form. Jarod flinched as he heard a sparking sound. All guards here seemed to the carry the short batons, similar to the cattle prod he had once tormented Lyle with. Clenching his teeth, Jarod cried out as the rod was brought down to the base of his neck, he squirmed involuntary as the rod remained pressed against his skin for several agonizing seconds. When it was removed from his neck, Jarod was left panting, pain rippling through his body.

“Would you like to try that little act of defiance again?”

Jarod’s muscles quivered as he remained motionless on the floor. He had reached the end of his physical endurance, and he doubted he could push himself off the floor, let alone topple over of his lumbering guards again.

“They never do.” The dark man remarked to the guards, amusement obvious in his tone.

Jarod again cried out as he was pulled upwards by his hair, then dragged across the room towards the back wall. He was forced to awkwardly shuffle along as he was bent forward nearly ninety degrees in order to avoid being pulled by only the strands of his hair.

“Sit.” The guard commanded as Jarod was pushed into the wall. Jarod hesitated and was pulled down roughly, ending up sitting cross-legged on the floor. The two guards then moved in to undo the handcuffs behind the pretender’s back. Jarod breathed in relief as his shoulders were allowed to relax, only to find them attaching a longer set of restraints, connecting his left arm to his right leg and vice versa, trapping him in a cross-legged position.

“Welcome to your new life. I’m not going to try and beat you into submission, you showed great mental strength over the past two weeks while you were atoning for some past sins, enough that I know I won’t find the way into your head in that way. I’m going to destroy your hold on your mind. It’s going to be a slow journey, probably at least slightly painful, and it starts today.”

“By making me sit on the floor?” Jarod inquired bitterly, resisting his suicidal urge to turn and face the three men behind him. What could they possibly be trying to prove by doing this?

“This is just the beginning Jarod. You are to remain still, if you flinch so much as one muscle, if I detect one rattle on your chains, you will be punished. Am I understood?”

Jarod remained silent, determined to remain defiant.

The dark man behind him chuckled. “Always the same. They speak when commanded to stay silent and when finally given the opportunity to let their sad little voice be heard, we get nothing but stone cold silence.” Jarod heard the man retreat several steps. “Do it.” He ordered authoritatively.

Jarod gasped as a bucket of cold water was dumped over his head, he shot forwards, only to be pulled back in place by his hair. He heard two men move behind him, turning on their popular cattle prods.

“Do you want to make me ask again?”

“No.” Jarod muttered, barely audible.

“Didn’t catch that monkey.” The African taunted.

Jarod swallowed his pride, squeezing his eyes closed he gave the man a more assertive response. “You are understood.”

He could almost imagine the gleeful smile on the dark man’s face. It made him feel nauseous. Jarod took a deep breath, he was better than this; their stupid minds games were not going to make him unravel. Over thirty years at the Centre, this was child’s play to him, although admittedly unpleasant.

“This is how it will be, until you inform me you are ready to return to your work. I’ll find other ways to encourage you along the way, but in between all of the fun and games, I want to ensure you are kept in the most uncomfortable position as possible. Eventually you’ll be dying for a visit to the facilities, a drink of water perhaps, and I can hedge a bet that those legs of yours are going to get pretty numb, pretty fast.”

Jarod yanked on his chains in frustration and was instantly rewarded with another painful shock at the base of his neck. His back arched unwillingly, crying for relief from the abuse.

“Surely someone with an IQ as high as yours is able to grasp the concept of staying motionless?” The dark man taunted, pausing until he was sure Jarod would not take the verbal bait. “I’ll leave you boys to it then.”

With a deep sigh, Jarod closed his eyes once again, wiling himself to retreat to that place in his mind where his discomfort was insignificant.

He would take Lyle, his damn jumper cables and his cage back at the Centre in a heartbeat over this.