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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
The Pretender: The Administration
by Dash Nolan
A Proportional Response
by Dash Nolan
A Proportional Response
"Are you out of your mind?"
Miss Parker refused to allow herself to be embarrassed or ashamed by the Head of Operations' reaction. The steel-willed Centre agent had long since learned to control her reactions to her father and his lack of tact. Instead, she simply stood her ground, a lone force of will in the massive chamber of Mister Parker's office.
"We've worked with the government many times before," she said, her works rock-steady. "The Centre's provided the NSA, the CIA, and the FBI with hundreds of simulations, and our liaisons in the Pentagon are very well-received. I don't see the problem with simply going to them and saying that Jarod is in their midst."
The aging Centre official sighed heavily and fell into his chair. Though he had held the position for nearly two decades, there had never been a time when Mr. Parker's position wasn't in jeopardy. It seemed like the Tower was never content with its staff, always wanting to keep those at all levels on their toes. Sometimes he could practically see the Triumvirate sitting around a darkened room, cigars and brandy sifters in hand, musing about when the old bastard in charge of Blue Cove was finally going to have that third heart attack. Many at the Delaware facility thought Mr. Parker was finally gone when the Triumvirate brought in their rising prodigy and his sweet-toothed assistant. But he would never be taken out of the picture that easily.
He was too smart for that.
"Sweetheart, if we tell them who Jarod is, or more importantly, what he can do, we'll never hear from him again. I hate to see Jarod causing mayhem out there just as much as you do, but imagine if the NSA suddenly had a Pretender under their belt. Every other week you would see another foreign official dead of some freak accident. If Jarod wanted to, he could be the next Alexander the Great. Do you really want to see him in the hands of the United States government?"
Miss Parker inhaled deeply and her hands formed tightly-balled fists at the small of her back.
"You're right, Daddy."
Her father rose from behind the desk and approached her, that fatherly smile that she couldn't stand forming on his cracked lips. He placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, and he spoke in the tone that made Miss Parker feel as though she were seven years old again.
"I admire your drive, dear, I always have. It's that same determination that first attracted me to your mother. Seeing you with that fire in your eye, well, it always reminds me of her."
She smiled, but only at the sudden memories brought on by the mention of her mother, and not at the loving words of her dad. Miss Parker figured he couldn't tell the difference. She placed that familiar kiss on her father's cheek before taking the long walk out of his chambers. The second the doors closed behind her, Parker's smile was long gone and her brisk step returned.
"Jarod's coming home. If I have to lead a team of Sweepers down Pennsylvania Avenue, then that's what's going to happen."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey Jarod, what do you think C.J. should say when she gets asked about the Agriculture Secretary's comments?"
The Pretender looked up from the laptop beneath his fingertips to meet the eyes of the Deputy Chief of Staff, Joshua Lyman. Despite only being in his mid-thirties, the curly-haired Lyman was a very powerful political operative, having worked everywhere from the floor of the Minority Whip's office to directly under the second most powerful man in the nation. Among those in the nation's capitol, he was one of the most resilient, having taken a .357 Magnum bullet in his lung during the Presidential assassination attempt a mere six months earlier. How he took everything in stride was a mystery even his closest friends couldn't solve.
"In response to Speaker Walken's comments on drilling in ANWR," asked Jarod.
"Yeah."
"Tell her to stand firmly behind the Secretary. It's his job to stand in front of the tree when the chainsaw-wielding Congress comes calling. Let's put that tree behind a Secret Service post."
"Right."
Josh began to leave, but halted mid-step when he spotted the blocky device sitting next to Jarod's aging laptop. The device looked vaguely like a seventies-era personal computer, but held a series of miniature CDs upright in front of a 4-inch screen.
"What's that?"
Jarod was able to restrain the horror bubbling up within his gut before it could manifest in his eyes. Instantly remembering that Lyman was anything but proficient when it came to computers, he smiled and nodded toward what was actually a Centre mini-disc reader.
"A new Zip drive with a data content viewer."
"Ah, I think Donna has one of those. Anyway, I'll let C.J. know what you said."
The Pretender nodded a good-bye, still wearing the wry grin. Jarod gave himself a good three minutes after Josh had closed the door before he turned back toward the Centre disk reader. His smile quickly fading, Jarod placed on of the many discs into a slot just below the small screen. A black-and-white image flashed to life of Jarod and Sydney. In the corner of the screen were plastered the words "For Centre use only" and the date of the recording, which revealed the disc to be only five years old.
Sitting in the center of an eerily-empty room was a scaled model of a two-lane street with buildings on either side. Two black SUVs, a black limousine, and three more Suburbans behind it, were apparently driving through the tiny city. Scaled miniatures of about a hundred people lined both sides of the road.
"So, Jarod," the younger Sydney began, "With at least a thousand people in the crowd, Secret Service marksmen on the roofs of every building in sight, and District policemen lining the road, how could you possibly take the President's life?"
The monochrome pretender made his way around the table, carefully eying over every inch of the tiny urban area.
"The cars?"
"The Suburbans are filled with Secret Service agents, all armed with Sig Sauer P226s. There is also a container in the back of each of the vehicles containing two Colt M4 assault rifles. The President's limousine is plated with bullet-proof metal and the glass is completely impervious to projectiles."
He paused once more to study the Hot Wheels before moving on to the areas on either side of the road.
"Does the President use this road often?"
"Yes, roughly twice-a-month. It's the quickest route to the airstrip where Air Force One sits."
"How often are those snipers on the buildings there?"
"They take their positions two hours before when the President's convoy is scheduled to pass by."
The younger Jarod leaned over and began looking in the spaces between the various buildings.
"The snipers have good position on the entire area and would see anyone preparing a grenade or RPG long before they could get it off. The single best way would be to have a group of people hide on each one of these rooftops before the Secret Service got there. When they did, take out the agents, disguise themselves as them, and take up position with a RPG or other explosive launcher. They would have to take the all the rooftops at once or else one of the Service agents could warn those in the convoy."
Jarod sighed heavily and turned off the viewer before carefully seting it back into its steel suitcase.
Chapter End Notes:
This is where the old stuff ends. Part 4 will be up some point soon.
