Prologue

What am I going to do now?

It was just another normal day at The Centre. Assuming that you're the type of person who would consider torture, murder, kidnapping, extortion, genetic experiments, and other nasty stuff as normal activities. Well, in The Centre they were as normal as normal could be. Most of the people working there had no idea what The Centre really did, nor was it their place to know. Only those on higher places knew the real truth and those who would accidentally bump into something they weren’t supposed to know shouldn't expect any less than a death penalty. Or something even more permanent.

The Centre was a world organization that exploited people like guinea pigs. (And guinea pigs like people. There was this experiment once and... What? Oh, sorry. I'll get right back to it.) Anyway, some people knew what The Centre was. Others just suspected it. It was a place where evil ruled. A Hell on earth, some people would say. With good furniture, as some would say. (I don't know why. The only piece of good furniture I remember seeing was Mr. Parker's desk. The rest was just standard stuff. Besides, has anyone been to Hell recently? Who's to say they don't have nicer furniture than The Centre these days? All right! I'll tell the story. I was just saying that-- Okay! Okay!)

Even so, despite the terror it inspired, there was one regular event that brought true fear into the hearts of all those who worked there. An event that happened once every month and troubled everyone, from the lowest employee to the chairman himself.

Some people even knew that The Centre's finances were controlled by The Triumvirate, a consortium of three men with their headquarters in South Africa. They were the real power behind The Centre. Or so everyone thought.

The truth was a little different. It was more frightening than The Triumvirate and The Centre put together. Forget about surprise visits from members of The Triumvirate. Forget about law enforcement units walking into The Centre and taking everyone into custody. Those were unexpected events and the unexpected could not be predicted. Sure, there were always procedures to follow, in case something unusual were to happen – like Mr. Raines growing back hair, for example – but not on a situation such as this.

This... moment, however dreadful, was expected, which didn't make its arrival any easier. Quite the contrary. No matter how much they would try to deny it, no matter how much they would pray for it to end, it was useless. It would always happen and there was nothing they could about it.

It was about two p. m. when the doorbell rang. The massive iron doors were opened almost immediately. Everyone looked to the man standing at the door and instantly recognized his face. They quickly got away from off his sight and hid wherever there was a hiding place available.

The man walked through the lobby and went straight to the receptionist desk. He looked at a very frightened secretary and said, “I’m here to collect the rent.”

She swallowed her breath and tried hard to seem calm “I believe the rent has already been paid. We sent you a check.”

“One would believe that,” he began, producing a piece of paper from his his pocket and placing it on her desk, “but I went to my bank this morning to cash this check and they told me that all your bank accounts were depleted.”

“You’ll have to discuss that with Mr. Raines.”

The man grumbled, clearly annoyed. “Fine. Tell him to come down here so that we can clear this out.”

“Certainly, sir.”

She grabbed the phone and dialed to Mr. Raines’ office. From the other side came a recording message. Dance music on the background, with the distinguished wheezing voice of Mr. Raines doing the singing.

“Hey! I’m not here!

But I’ll back! Don’t you fear!

I’ll come back and we’ll sing all day.

And then I’ll dissect your brain.”

BIP!

“Mr. Raines, this is Sarah, from reception. Mr. Stevenson is here. He wants you to come down as soon as you can.” Sarah put the phone down and turned to Mr. Stevenson. “He’s not there.”

“What about Mr. Lyle? Isn’t he the second in command?”

“How do I know that?”

“I used to watch the show.”

“Very well. I’ll call him.”

“You do that.”

Sarah grabbed the phone. “You can take a seat, if you want to.”

“I prefer to stand, thank you.”

She dialed the extension to Mr. Lyle’s office.

He answered quickly, with his mouth full. “What?”

“Mr. Lyle, it’s Sarah from reception. Mr. Stevenson is here.”

Mr. Lyle swallowed. “What the hell does he want?”

“He says he’s here to collect the rent.”

“I thought the rent was already paid.”

“That’s not what he says, Mr. Lyle. According to him, all our bank accounts are empty.”

“What d’you mean empty?! There were more than a hundred million dollars on those accounts!!! Where the hell did all the money go?”

“That I don’t know, Mr. Lyle.”

“Have you talked to Mr. Raines about this?”

“I tried to call his office, but he wasn’t there.”

“OK. I’ll see what I can do. Tell Mr. Stevenson to come up.”

“He says he wants you to come down.”

“Great! Now I have to interrupt lunch! I hate doing that! Okay. Tell him I’ll be down there as soon as I can.”

Sarah heard Mr. Lyle hanging up and put the phone receiver down. “Mr. Lyle will be here shortly.” She said to Mr. Stevenson.

“He better hurry. I’m beginning to get tired of all this waiting.”

“I saw his meal passing by. It was quite petite. I'm sure he won't take too long.” She smiled “Are you sure you don’t want to sit?”

“Yes. I am.”

~*~

A few minutes later, Mr. Lyle showed up, accompanied by Mr. Raines. They shook hands with Mr. Stevenson.

“What can we do for you, Mr. Stevenson?” Mr. Lyle asked with a plastic smile on his face.

“You can start by paying what you owe me.”

“There has to be some sort of mistake, Mr. Stevenson. The Centre always pays its bills on time.” Mr. Raines said.

“Well, I sure would like to know how is that possible with all your bank accounts empty.”

Mr. Raines turned angrily to Mr. Lyle. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I...” Lyle swallowed “forgot.”

“You forgot?! One hundred and twenty five million dollars and eighty three,” he took a small paper from his breast pocket, read it and then put the paper back in the pocket, “eighty four cents gone and you forget to mention it?” He was quiet for a few seconds, then something occurred to him “Lyle, tell me something. Have you been ordering mail order brides again?”

“No...”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I may have ordered a few.” He said timidly, and then added quickly, “But they were all very cheap!”

Mr. Raines took a deep breath and began to pull Lyle’s ear. “Didn’t I give you a piggy bank for you to buy your things?”

“Yes!”

“And how many times have I told you not to order any brides without consulting me? How many? Tell me!!!”

Mr. Lyle started to cry. “I’m sorry! It’s just... I feel so alone sometimes. I only want...”

Mr. Raines let go Mr. Lyle’s ear and pulled him to a tight hug. “That’s alright, son. I understand.”

“Look,” Mr. Stevenson interrupted “I don’t give a damn about your brides. All I want is my money. Now, do you have it or not?”

“How much is it?” Mr. Raines asked.

Mr. Stevenson took a small paper from his breast pocket and handed it to Mr. Raines.

Mr. Raines read the paper and wheezed, “What the hell is this?”

“That is what you owe me. This month’s rent. Without interests.”

“Without interests?”

Mr. Lyle took a quick peak at the paper and whistled.

“The rent is not supposed to be this high!” Mr. Raines wheezed.

“And Blue Cove is not supposed to exist. It’s a fictitious land and I own it, along with everything in it. You wanna have your secret complex in my property, that’s fine with me, just as long as you pay what I tell you to pay. If not, you can always pack up your stuff and move to Gotham City or Smallville. It’s your choice.”

“We can’t afford that kind of expense with our bank accounts empty.”

“What’re you talking about? We can’t afford any expense with our bank accounts empty.”

“Shut up, Lyle!”

“I don’t have the time or the patience to wait, gentlemen. If you don’t have the money, I have no choice but to throw you all out.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“You want to test me, Mr. Raines? I strongly advise you not to, or I promise you’ll regret your actions shortly afterward.”

“How shortly?”

“Very.”

Realizing defeat, Mr. Raines sighed and turned to Lyle. “Lyle?”

“Yes, dad?”

“Go tell everyone to clean their desks. We’re leaving.”

“What do I tell them?”

“Tell them that they are all fired.”

Mr. Lyle thought about this for a second before asking “Does that mean that I have to kill all of them?”

“Not this time, son. Not this time.”

Suddenly, Mr. Lyle remembered something “Wait! What about The Triumvirate? Can’t we borrow some money from them?”

Mr. Raines smiled. “Yes... We-”

“Can’t.” Mr. Stevenson concluded.

“Why not?”

“I own their complex too. Their accounts are empty as well.”

“How can that be?” Mr. Lyle questioned.

“If I found out whoever did this, I’m gonna eat him alive!”

“Can I help?”

“It was just an expression, Lyle.”

“Oh... Sorry.”

“Now, hurry up and go tell everyone the news.”

“Sure. I’m just going to finish lunch and then I’ll do it.”

“You can finish your lunch later.”

“But I’m starving!”

“I said you can finish your lunch... later! Now move!”

Mr. Lyle walked away.

Mr. Raines wheezed, “I wonder who’s responsible for this...”

~*~

Yes, who was the person responsible for this? The question floated inside Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines’ brain and the answer could probably be found with one man.

Jarod.

The man being constantly chased across the country since his escape from The Centre after thirty years imprisoned. A pure genius, as most people called him, but despite his strong intellect, he wasn’t the one responsible for The Centre’s shutdown.

In fact, after spending several years on the run, it was only now that he had finally come up with a perfect plan to stop The Centre once and for all. Better late than never, you could say. It was a very simple plan. So simple that he felt ashamed for not thinking about it earlier.

He was driving his car, listening to some music. The Centre was only a few miles away.

Almost there, he thought.

After a while, a car rode by. He recognized the driver. Miss Parker. His friend, his huntress, his enemy, his... whatever.

That’s strange. She usually doesn’t leave her office before seven p. m. He continued driving, then he remembered something else: Was she smiling?!

~*~

Jarod arrived at The Centre moments later and was surprised with what he saw. Everyone was leaving the place. He got out of his car and scanned the crowd for any known face. He spotted Sydney and walked over to him.

“Sydney!”

“Jarod!”

“What is going on here? Where is everyone going?”

“The Centre is shutting down.”

“What? How?”

“Apparently someone forgot to pay the rent.”

“That’s just great! Now that I had come up with a plan to...”

Suddenly, Jarod heard a voice coming from behind him.

“You!”

Jarod recognized the voice and turned around to see Mr. Raines, with his former henchman Willie standing right next to him.

“You did this!” he turned to Willie “Catch him, Willie!”

“Forget it, bone bag. You’re not my boss anymore. Remember?”

Mr. Raines lost all his... dignity, and started jumping up and down, shrieking like a little girl. “I want my Centre back! I want it! I want it!”

Jarod turned to Sydney, who was shaking his head. They spotted Broots and made their way to him.

“What happened to Miss Parker?” Jarod asked. “I saw her on my way here.”

“She said she was going to take a few weeks off.” Sydney responded.

“That’s good. She deserves some rest.”

“So...” Broots began “I guess this is it.”

“Seems to be.”

“There’s no more it to it than this.”

Yes, The Centre was no more. After years of evil doings, The Centre’s reign of terror had finally come to an end. Everyone was now free from its claws, but there was one question left to answer. Not the identity of the person responsible for the fall, that will only be revealed in the final chapter, but something much more urgent. A common thought that suddenly appeared in the minds of all those connected to The Centre.

What am I going to do now?