9:39pm Tuesday Night:

  Jarod woke to the feeling of the cold polished stone beneath him, taking note of how clean and sterile the whole room felt. Trying to lift himself into a sitting position, he quickly realized on account of the intense spinal headache that he aggravated upon sitting, that they'd performed a lumbar puncture while he was unconscious. Lying back down to relieve the pressure, Jarod examined his arms and noted multiple injection sites. A wave of embarrassment overcame him as he started piecing together the events that must have led him to where he currently lay. There was no way he'd drowned himself in disinfectant and then dressed himself in their ‘uniform,' someone had to have done that for him...

  Staring up at the ceiling angrily, Jarod was surprised to see that it was constructed out of the same polished concrete as the floors and walls. Ignoring the pulsating pain in his head and neck, he forced himself up against the wall into a sitting position and examined his surroundings more closely.

 There were five black camera globes staring down at him from the ceiling that Jarod guessed was about fourteen feet above the floor level and lit more brightly than the moon. The floors walls and ceiling were all constructed out of the same polished concrete material and were designed so that the corners were all rounded and flowed together as one. In the middle of the floor was a single drainage grill no bigger than a golf ball and about nine feet up the walls were six ventilation grates that were each the size of drink coasters. The lone door was made from a concrete-matching grey laminated steel and there was no discernable lock or hinges from Jarod's side. The only way out of this little concrete prison, was also the only way in...

  Forcing a mischievous smile on his face, Jarod stared up at the cameras. He had to admit that they'd thought this secure unit through, but he was determined to keep them guessing about just how distraught he was inside. Whatever they wanted this time, it really seemed like they were pulling out all the stops to have him back in their custody and Jarod knew that, that couldn't be good news.

  Closing his eyes for a second to aid in warding off the hazy feeling in his head, Jarod could have sworn he'd heard the sound of footsteps.

  Hearing the echo getting louder and louder from behind the door, Jarod braced himself against the wall opposite the door and closed his eyes indifferently. He wasn't going to play their games...

  "Would you look at that," Lyle waited until two unknown sweepers had entered Jarod's cell, before he followed them, "Turn's out you're not so invincible after all, Jarod..." He grinned as Jarod opened his eyes slowly one at a time, but didn't respond. "...Surely you've got something to say..." Lyle crouched down to Jarod's level, "...Or perhaps you're just enjoying that clean, safe feeling..."

  Jarod studied Lyle's shoes intently. He was determined not to gratify Lyle with a response, no matter how embarrassed, frustrated and even defeated he felt, so he took solace in the highly polished black leather.

  "...What's wrong Jarod, not feeling so grateful for Sam and Willie's hard work? Because I've got to tell you, before they cleaned you up, you smelt like a wet dog..." Lyle reached across Jarod's face and ran his glove-clad hand through Jarod's freshly cut hair and down the back of his neck, enjoying Jarod's stubborn refusal to react to him all the more.

  Jarod clenched his teeth together and tried to encourage his aching muscles to relax, despite the overriding signal they were getting from Lyle's repulsive touch.

  Forcing his mind to remain calm and in control, Jarod focused his attention on the two sweepers accompanying Lyle, whom he noted were becoming increasingly nervous. Jarod could tell by the way they were shuffling their feet that they had been told he was violent and they were just waiting for him to snap and attack Lyle at the first chance he got.

  Jarod had to bite his tongue hard to resist the temptation to oblige them as Lyle pushed firmly on his neck, sending the pressure in his head soaring.

  "...I'll bet it feels like you're whole head is in a vice right about now..." Lyle smiled releasing his grip slowly, finger by finger as he used Jarod's neck to assist him to his feet, "But what I've got planned for you could be a whole lot worse..." he pulled a bright yellow taser from his pocket, openly admiring his own creativity, "Did you ever watch Cops Jarod?" He grinned and mockingly pointed the taser at Jarod's chest, "...Because on Cops they use magnificent equipment such as this, to subdue unruly suspects in order to restrain them..." he waved the taser around the locked cell, "...But you don't exactly require restraining now, do you Jarod? More like retraining..."

  Jarod refused to look Lyle in the eye, instead spotting the cattle prods that the two sweepers in the background held at their sides.

  "I asked you a question Jarod, and from now on, when I ask you a question, you'll answer it..." He pointed the taser back at Jarod in a much less restrained fashion than before, "You see, I've found that car batteries are fun and remarkably effective in obtaining answers... But as you know, they're not exactly portable and well, they can be quite messy..." Lyle grinned when Jarod slowly folded his arms across his stomach, "...Maybe you are as smart as I've been led to believe..."

  Jarod looked up at Lyle's face, without making eye-contact, "What do you want Lyle?"

  Lyle stood back smiling as the taller of the two sweepers reached past him and sent a jolt of electricity tunning through Jarod's leg. As Jarod curled up in pain, Lyle resumed his teasing, "I think we need to establish a few ground rules Jarod, seeing as you've obviously forgotten your manners since you were last here..."

  Jarod clutched his leg to his chest and glared from the offending sweeper back to Lyle in teeth-clenching silence.

  "...Rule number one: you do not speak, unless you are directly asked a question... Now, you've already broken that one so I'd make sure to store it within easy reach of that genius brain of yours," Lyle grinned, flashing a smile that Jarod had certainly not missed since he'd broken free the last time, "Rule number two: if someone asks you a question, you'll answer it as quickly and accurately as possible... And you might want to remember the generosity you were awarded in not being punished for your first offence on that one Jarod..." He patted Jarod on the head as if he were a dog, "Rule number three: you are to obey all commands you are given without hesitation or delay... Again, that's another you've broken, although, I must admit that one happens to cover a whole spectrum of disobedience so I have a feeling that rule three is going to become a bit of a favourite around here... But, seeing as I'm in a particularly good mood at the moment, I think I can bring myself to clear that offence, for now..." Lyle smoothed the lapel's of his Italian silk shirt with an air of mock generosity, "Rule number four: you are to be accompanied at all times by a minimum of two sweepers, who will incidentally, be armed..." Lyle smiled as Jarod silently assessed the twin burns on his shin from the cattle prod, "Am I clear Jarod?"

  Jarod nodded his head, letting the formless charcoal-coloured cotton pants fall back over the burns on his shin, undecided as to whether or not the pain in his shin had relieved the pressure headache from the non-consensual spinal tap.

  The sweeper from before took a step closer to his huddled form, about to strike Jarod's forearm.

 "Yes." Jarod muttered through clenched teeth, dropping his arms slightly further out of reach, without making any moves that could be deemed threatening, even by sweeper standards.

  Lyle furrowed his eyebrows, raising a cupped hand to his ear, "What was that, Jarod? I didn't quite hear you."

  Jarod glared at him in response and the sweeper struck his momentarily unguarded shin, in the same spot as he had before, "Yes... Mr Lyle..." Jarod repeated, gripping his shin tightly to diverge his mind from the pain.

  "Yes what Jarod?"

  Jarod took a deep breath, "Yes... you are perfectly clear... Mr Lyle..."

  Lyle mimicked the movement of Jarod's lips as he said his name, determined to gain all the satisfaction he could from Jarod, even if he knew that the pretender wasn't anywhere near a malleable as he was attempting to appear.

  "Good, because from this point forward, any deviation from those four rules will be met with the heart-warming sensation of electricity flowing through your body... Tim's just given you a demonstration of what happens when the sweepers are in a good mood Jarod... If I were you, I wouldn't go testing their patience..." Lyle smiled as Jarod sat staring at him angrily, "...But then again, they're not the ones with the tasers..." he again pointed the barrel at Jarod's unprotected body.

<~>

  Broots again reached across to skip the DSA forward, this time however, he met the resistance of Sydney's hand around his outstretched wrist, "...I have to know Broots..."

  The nervous technician pulled his hand away from the DSA player and stood, pacing Sydney's office whilst his friend watched on. When he heard Sydney gasp and saw him bite his own hand in pain and misdirected frustration, Broots knew he'd just watched Lyle shoot and shock Jarod repeatedly without reason...

  Reluctantly returning to Sydney's desk once the worst was over, Broots fast-forwarded the DSA to show Jarod lying restlessly on the floor. The next set of footage being 24 hours after Jarod had first experienced Lyle's taser.

<~>

9:51pm Wednesday Night:

  Jarod rolled over to face the door once more. He had no idea how long he'd been alone, as alone as lying on the cold concrete floor with a randomly rotating shift of sweepers continually accompanying him could be, that was.

  He shivered involuntarily and curled his bruised body tighter into his chest, staring absently at the door in front of him. He knew what they were trying to do, trying to get him to second-guess his own sanity and how long they'd left him in the claustrophobic, fluorescently lit concrete box. It wasn't going to work though. They'd have better luck rubbing Max's betrayal in his face...

  As he thought of Max, Jarod's eyes grew cloudy. On the train, he'd told himself that Max was innocent, that he was purely involved in Jarod's incarceration for the money... But now, he couldn't convince himself as certainly... Was everything Max shared with him just a way to get Jarod to feel comfortable enough to fall asleep? And who was Max? Was he just another Centre project? Did they really just give him the cash and let him go?

  "Against the wall now."

  Jarod froze for a second, snapping out of his self-pitying stupor.

  "Do not make me repeat myself..." The sweeper struck Jarod's feet, using the cattle prod as if it were a nightstick or a baseball bat, as close to a warning as Jarod was going to get before he'd be met with a sharp jolt of electricity.

  Jarod cringed slightly in pain, crawling to the back of the cell and kneeling with his hands interlaced behind his head, facing the wall as he'd been instructed a total of seventeen times since Lyle's departure. Not that Jarod was intentionally counting, it was more of a distraction that his brain had decided to welcome of it's own accord.

  Lyle didn't wait for the door to open completely before he entered the crowded cell, "Well Jarod, I must compliment you. The work you put into Leon's bar was... inspiring..." Lyle stood leaning against the door behind Jarod, examining his gloved hand in the bright fluorescent tube lighting,  "...So inspiring in fact, that I almost didn't want to burn it down..."

  Jarod kept his head pressed firmly against the wall, his mouth tightly shut. Surely Lyle hadn't had time to go after Leon, not since he'd been recovered on the train. No, this was but another tactic to throw Jarod off his game. Besides, meeting with Lyle's taser again wasn't ranking very highly on Jarod's list of things to do or experience, especially not whilst he was already wallowing in self-pity over Max... He'd make sure to check on Leon the very second he got free.

  "Did you hear me Jarod?"

  Jarod nodded, "I heard you... Mr Lyle." He spoke flatly into the concrete wall, concentrating all his energy on conserving his pent-up anger for exactly the right moment...

  Lyle laughed, "A bit more animation next time Jarod. Anyone would think that you resented me... And turn around. I want to see those pretty eyes of yours."

  Jarod bit his tongue and turned around awkwardly on his knees, wiping all expression from his face.

  Lyle studied his eyes carefully for any signs that he'd gotten to him, "Sit. Hands where I can see them," he watched Jarod begrudgingly comply, exposing a series of burns on his forearms as he rested them across his knees. Lyle smiled, "I came here to ask you a question Jarod, and it's a question that I don't think you're particularly going to like... So I brought some back up with me..." Lyle stepped aside, allowing the door to open for Sam and Willie, each armed with yellow tasers matching Lyle's.

  Jarod kept his eyes at their feet, five armed men against one who didn't even have shoes... They weren't good odds...

  Biting his lip, Jarod thought about just how wrong he'd been about his old favourite colour. Yellow wasn't a safe colour at all, it was a warning colour. Just like the yellow traffic lights were a warning that red was next, the yellow sand was a warning for the ocean beyond, the yellow markings on stairs and train station platforms were a warning for the edge and the yellow of Max's jumper was a warning that he was about to be caught... Jarod didn't need to guess what the yellow of the tasers was warning him about, he had the scabs on his abdomen and chest to remind himself of the damage that they could do.

  "...And I don't think I need to remind you of our four little rules, but it may be beneficial to draw your attention to the motivators that Sam and Willie brought with them..." Lyle waited for Jarod to make a show of looking up before he continued, "...So tell me Jarod... Where is Gemini...?"

<~>

  Sydney shook Broot's shoulders roughly as the DSA cut out, "Where's the rest of it?"

  "...Mm... Miss Parker... It was all I could get without getting caught."

  Sydney stared at Broots in disbelief, "Does she have more?"

   Broots nodded, nervously shrugging Sydney's hands from his shoulders, "Lyle's secretary was dropping off another DSA when I left to show you this..." he ejected the disc and stuffed it into his pocket apprehensively, "I'm guessing it explains why Jarod's in the infirmary now..."

  "Do you know if Parker's seen it?"

  Broots shrugged his shoulders, "That's anyone's guess... I take it you didn't leave on the best of terms..."

  Sydney sighed, leaning heavily against his desk, "I'm afraid I let her push me away..."

  "...Perhaps it's time to un-push then...?"

  Sydney smiled at his friend's naivety and was about to apologise for his own outburst of misdirected frustration, but Broots cut him off, "It's ok Sydney. You were worried."

<~>

  Lyle laughed as he caught sight of his sister for the third time that day.

  Excusing himself from Raines's company with the simple gesture of a raised hand, he approached his sister before she could cross the lobby, "Third times a charm."

  Miss Parker turned to face him directly, her eyes searching his for a truth beyond his words, "In case you haven't noticed, my charm isn't exactly reputable, you must be after something else... What is it Sherlock?"

  Lyle feigned hurt but was clearly enjoying every second of her company, "You must be tired..."

  Miss Parker folded her arms defiantly across her chest and continued her path across the polished stone floor, "I don't have time for this Lyle. Either spit it out or suck it in..."

  That remark drew a Cheshire grin from Lyle as he followed her across the lobby in the direction of the parking garage, "We have a shared cause and you'd be a damned fool to think that we don't make a great team..."

  Miss Parker slowed her pace, "And what cause do you propose it is that we share?"

  "Gemini for one..." Lyle's reply was almost disinterested, a tactic he'd tried and failed with her before. What made him so certain it would work this time was beyond reason. A fact that intrigued Miss Parker, as much as she hated to admit it, that was.

  Rolling her eyes, Parker stopped to face him once more, "And what do you want with him?"

  Lyle flashed her a winning smile, "Jarod's only half a deal Parker, an appetiser if you wish... With the clone however, well that makes for a meal fit for the Triumvirate..."

 Miss Parker smiled, "You're vying for power. Do you really think that's wise, given the precarious state of the chairman's position of late?"

   Lyle laughed, "I'm not looking to be chairman."

  "Right..." Parker continued towards the door.

  "Don't you want to know the truth Parker?" He called after her, watching with a smile, as she froze once again, "Don't you want to know why Jarod sent..."

  Parker snapped around to face him, "Say it and you'll be missing a lot more than a thumb...."

  "Think about it. Jarod's just the lock around here, Gemini's the key... If we get Gemini, we get the authority, the influence, the truth..."

  Parker watched him closely, knowing that he was only confirming Sydney's earlier judgement, one that she resented as much for it's truth as it's blatancy...

  "Just watch the DSA I had sent to your office... If you still insist on going all Lone Wolf after that, we'll go back to being sworn enemies... You know where to find me..." Lyle left his sister for the elevators, smiling only when the doors closed securely behind him. He knew it was only a matter of time before she'd call and together, they'd have Gemini, right where they needed him to control Jarod...

<~>

  Miss Parker watched the elevator doors close behind Lyle and changed her direction, heading back to her office. Pushing the doors open in a grand gesture of frustration, she spotted Lyle's DSA, held flippantly in Sydney's hand.

  "I wasn't expecting to see you this side of the millennium, Freud," With her hands firmly pressed against her hips, she turned to face Broots, who was busily trying to make himself invisible by the window, "And you brought the kleptomaniac with you..."

  "...I... I'm... Um... You know about that...?" Broots had told himself over and over not to make eye contact with her, and consequently, found himself intently studying the carpet beneath him instead.

  Miss Parker dismissed him facetiously, turning back to face Sydney, "To what do I owe the inconvenience?" The words rolled off her tongue bitterly, as she dropped her arms to her side.

  Sydney flicked his wrist, catching the light from the window with the DSA, "You didn't finish telling me about Jarod..."

  Parker laughed wickedly, an empty attempt at biting back the tears. It didn't take a psychiatrist to see through her façade.

  "Perhaps it's not Jarod that you should be concerned about... Lyle's just shown the world how desperate he is to get Gemini back..."

  Sydney relaxed his stance and pressed his lips together tightly, "What are you going to do?"

  "What I always do... Survive." Parker took the DSA from Sydney's hand and loaded the file onto the computer. 

  As much as she didn't want to know what sick games Lyle had been using on Jarod, the fact that Lyle was so certain that she'd willingly align with him after seeing the footage on the DSA, was enough to compel her to watch it.

Taking a silent breath, she opened the file.

<~>

  10:17pm Wednesday Night:

  Jarod stared up at Lyle defiantly, "Where's Sydney?"

  Lyle nodded his head slightly and watched with a smile as Willie shot him with the taser barbs and proceeded to shock him with electricity.

  Speaking over Jarod's pained cries, Lyle continued, "I'll keep asking Jarod.... I've got all the time in the world... It's just a shame that the longer you hold out, the worse it's going to be for Gemini..."

  Jarod picked his aching body up off the floor, and sat against the wall, wincing in pain as the taser barbs pulled at his skin with every tiny movement, "I want to speak to Sydney." His response was spoken with a much weaker voice leaving his mouth than the angry and resilient one that filled his head.

  Lyle smiled up at the cameras as Willie sent a second surge of electricity down the wires still imbedded in Jarod's chest. He gave a sadistic wink to one camera in particular, before looking back down at Jarod, sprawled across the floor, "I'd suggest you reconsidered that answer before we ask again, Jarod..." He walked right up to Jarod's limp body, crouching down to within whispering range, "...You see, that's another thing about tasers that I forgot to mention... It doesn't matter how high your particular pain tolerance is, the electro-muscular disruption results in neuromuscular incapacitation in both motor and sensory nerves... Right now you're about as docile as a well-fed kitten..." He reached across and ran his fingers down Jarod's face, "I could do just about anything and you'd be powerless to stop me..." He jovially slapped Jarod's cheek, "But where would be the fun in that...?" He stood up and motioned for the doctor waiting nervously outside, to come in and remove the taser barbs. "It doesn't have to be like this Jarod... You give me Gemini and you've got no holds bared access to Sydney... Until then, Sydney will stay with Raines and you will stay with me."

  The doctor snapped on a pair of blue surgical gloves and waited for Sam and one of the two nameless sweepers to lay Jarod on his back.

  Kneeling down beside him, the doctor glanced at Jarod's pained expression and turned to Sam for an explanation.

  "Jarod wasn't feeling very... cooperative ... but he's changed his mind now, he'll be good..." Lyle offered, crossing his arms over his chest, challenging the young doctor to question him.

  The doctor sighed quietly and turned back to face Jarod, expertly tearing Jarod's tunic around the barbs so he could get a better look at the damage, "Ok Jarod it's the same as last time... Hold a deep breath and they'll be out in no time..."

  Jarod followed the doctor's advice, but found himself breathless as Willie stood over his head distractedly, "Eyes front Genius."

<~>

  As the tape skipped ahead off it's own accord, Sydney shook his head frustratedly over Parker's shoulder, clenching his jaw tightly to prevent himself from saying anything else that he'd regret. How much more of this could Jarod take? How much more could he take?

<~>

  11:34am Thursday Morning:

  "Against the wall." Sam poked Jarod's bruised right shoulder roughly with the cattle prod. He knew Jarod was in no shape to fight him on it, but there was a certain pleasure in reinforcing his dominance after all the humiliation Jarod had put him through.

  Jarod sat himself up stiffly, resting his head against the wall for support. His body was protesting for him to lie back down and sleep but his mind knew that the sweepers were ordered to keep him awake and he was determined not to make that a pleasure by staying awake of his own accord.

  "Now Jarod."

  Jarod motioned to kneel but was rapidly forced to his feet as Sam and the unknown sweeper accompanying him, grabbed Jarod impatiently by the forearms, picking him up and sending him stumbling into the opposite wall. Forcing his cheek against the cold stone, Sam expertly cuffed Jarod's bare wrists behind his back, whilst his colleague fastened a heavy set of iron shackles around his ankles.

  "They're treating you to an excursion," Sam announced once Jarod was secure, "So you'd better get moving."

  Each of the sweepers took one of Jarod's arms and they practically dragged him down the long corridor from his cell. They came to a stop at the door directly opposite Jarod's room, and waited for the door to open from the inside.

  Lyle was waiting impatiently on the other side of the door, accompanied by a shadowed figure that was pre-occupied with a small plastic bag at the far end of the room, just far and shadowed enough to be indistinguishable.

  "Sit him at the table." Lyle ordered watching closely as Jarod struggled to walk himself the twelve or so meters to the stainless steel table and chair set up in the middle of the room.

  As Sam saw to it that he was unable to leave the chair, Jarod took a second to examine his surroundings. Aside from the obvious scaling differences and the addition of the table and chair, this room was much the same as the one he'd just been dragged from, cold, bright and as sterile as it got... except for that poorly lit corner towards the back...

  "So Jarod..." Lyle walked around the table in a big circle, "It seems like you've been better behaved since our last chat..."

  Jarod watched the man's back in the corner, still not quite sure who Lyle had with him.

  "Eyes on me, Genius." Lyle snapped his fingers in front of Jarod's nose.

  Jarod stared up at him compliantly, his mind wandering back to the man in the corner as Lyle continued. It wasn't Sydney, or Mr Parker, or Raines...

   "...So are you ready to tell me where Gemini is, Jarod?"

  Jarod shook his mind back on task, "I don't know where he is."

  The man turned around at the sound of Jarod's response. It was Mr Cox, the grim reaper himself.

  "I don't believe you, Jarod. I think you know exactly where he is...." Lyle responded, leaning over the table and shocking Jarod in the shoulder with a stun gun that was partially obscured by Lyle's shirtsleeve.

  Out of the corner of his eye and as he re-caught his breath, Jarod watched Mr Cox walk calmly over to the table, flicking a small plastic evidence bag with his fingers as if no one was watching him.

  "Changed your mind yet?" Lyle asked calmly making a show of flicking open a pocketknife that he'd exchanged with the stun gun from the nameless sweeper.

  "...I don't know where he is..." Jarod repeated, his voice course but unperturbed by Lyle's games. He was far more interested in the bag Mr Cox was playing with...

  "Last chance..." Lyle walked around the table and ran the knife's blade gently down Jarod's cheek, before cutting open the formless cotton tunic top he was dressed in, exposing Jarod's bare chest.

  Jarod remained silent, watching as Lyle handed the knife to Sam in exchange for his taser. As Lyle lined up his shot, Cox dropped the evidence bag onto the table and Jarod stared up at him, trying keep his focus as he felt the barbs pierce his bare skin, drawing blood from the wounds.

  Cox stared back motionless, as Lyle repeatedly sent volt after volt of electricity through the taser. When Lyle was finally finished playing, he ripped the barbs from Jarod's flesh and handed the weapon to Sam, a deep grin embedded on his face as he watched his partner prepare for his turn at getting Jarod to talk.

  "I don't believe that we've formally met Jarod," Mr Cox pushed the plastic bag across the table with his index finger, "But I do believe that you are familiar with my work..."

  Jarod attempted to sit up straighter but was stopped by the sharp tachycardial pains in his chest, his heart rate struggling to return to normalcy.

  Cox slid the bag so it was directly in front of Jarod on the table, it's contents in clear view, "...These were found amongst your possessions, Jarod..."

  Jarod stared at the tiny gold discs in the plastic bag.

  "Saint Christopher and Saint Jude... The patron Saints of Travel and Lost Causes respectively..." Cox watched Jarod's eyes closely as he stared at the bag, "As soon as I saw which Saints they were, I knew that I'd encountered these before..." He tapped the table with his fingers, an act most people would associate with the impatient, though to Mr Cox meant anything but. He was clearly in no hurry. "Do you know the story behind Saint Jude being the patron Saint of Lost Causes Jarod...? I find it fascinating that he became the forgotten Saint in the shadow of Judas... That a prayer to him was considered a lost cause..."

  Jarod tore his eyes from the medallions and fixed them upon Cox. Jarod's brown eyes meeting Cox's blue, for the first time...

  "When did she die Jarod?"

  Lyle turned to look at Cox, suddenly intrigued, "Who died?"

  Jarod pressed his mouth together tightly, his jaw flexing with the pressure, "Where's Sydney? I'm not saying anything until I see Sydney."

  Lyle laughed, "I've already told you Jarod. Until you cough up Gemini, the shrink stays with Raines..."

  Mr Cox asked again, in the same condescendingly calm tone, as if Lyle wasn't even in the room, "When did she die Jarod?"

  Lyle again stared back at Cox questioningly, "Who died?" his tone had risen a little, exposing his true ignorance in the area.

  "Why don't you fill Mr Lyle in on who died Jarod? An while you're at it, you might want to fill him in on how she died..."

  Jarod dropped his gaze back to the plastic bag, fighting the breakdown he knew was only seconds away. How did Cox know? He hadn't told a soul... He hadn't even told anyone that she was sick... Jarod hadn't even known that she was sick... Until it was too late...

<~>

  Miss Parker stopped the DSA and turned sharply to face Sydney and Broots, "If either of you knows something that I don't, now would be the time to tell me..."

  Broots shrugged his shoulders and held his hands up as a gesture that they were empty, "You know more than I do Miss Parker..."

  Without responding, she set her gaze on a very quiet Sydney, "Cough it up Freud..."

  Sydney ran his fingers through his hair distractedly, staring at the frozen image of Jarod on the screen, "If you're asking me to whom Cox is referring, then I'm in the dark just as you are..."

  "If ever I heard a but, that was it..." Parker snapped, growing impatient that Sydney wouldn't just come clean for once.

  Sydney leant against her desk, staring off into space, "...I've known for some time that Jarod hasn't been his usual self, but I was never able to discern the cause of his depression... If Mr Cox is right and someone close to Jarod has passed away... It may just explain why he's been so... detached of late..." Parker watched Sydney's shoulder's slump in defeat as he turned to face her, the colour completely drained from his face, "I just hope that he can find a way to pull himself together."

<~>