Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
܀
Parker had dreamed about it, fantasized about it. Striding through the Centre corridors, however, with Jarod cuffed, and at gun point—amid gasps and shocked stares, no less—was more exhilarating and surreal an experience than she'd ever imagined it'd be.
It was painfully obvious everyone had doubted her, from Roy in custodial services down on the bottom rung of the ladder all the way up to the boys in the tower.
They had doubted her abilities and loyalties, but to see the woman's blood red fingernails digging into the black faux leather jacket Jarod wore, her stoic carriage, head held high, gun in her right hand, the prowess, aplomb, the sheer magnitude of power emanating from Miss Parker-by-God, all doubts diminished.
Seeing is believing.
Raines glared up at her when his doors burst open. "What do you want Miss-" he fell silent with an abruptness that Parker found rather satisfying.
Wearing a positively vulpine smile, Parker shoved a recalcitrant Jarod into the office and addressed Raines. "The sign of loyalty you've been awaiting, Sir."
Raines glared up at her when his doors burst open. "What do you want Miss-" he fell silent with an abruptness that Parker found rather satisfying.
Wearing a positively vulpine smile, Parker shoved a recalcitrant Jarod into the office and addressed Raines. "The sign of loyalty you've been awaiting, Sir."
"How could you do this to me," Jarod snarled.
Raines was pleased, was positively salivating. His thick, pale tongue traced the curve of his moist lips, and Parker knew the wheels were already spinning. What unscrupulous ventures were taking shape in that demented mind? He drew a deep grating breath. "It's good to know the Parker killer instinct hasn't skipped a generation."
"Indeed," Parker returned amiably. "My full report will be on your desk within one hour of his processing."
"It's not too late, Miss Parker, please," came Jarod's usual spiel. "Your mother would-"
"I am not my mother," Parker interrupted brusquely, leveling her gun at Jarod, and for the first time in his life, Raines actually believed her. He reached for the intercom. "I'll have Willie-"
"May I suggest, sir, that you send Sam instead," Parker said. "This occasion calls for muscle, not speed."
"And if Jarod runs," Raines asked.
"He won't outrun a bullet," Parker returned flatly, becoming incredibly incensed when both Sam and Willie arrived, each men obviously hectoring for control, for a promotion, for survival.
"No," Jarod whined. "No, please. Please." The Pretender's panicked pleas increased exponentially.
"Who the hell invited you," Parker hissed at Raines' sweeper.
"The rumors are all true then," Willie said, ignoring Parker, and staring, instead, at Jarod.
"Please, don't do this," Jarod pleaded with Parker as he was pulled to his feet. "Don't let them do this to me," he wailed, dropping to the floor where he curled into a fetal position and plopped a thumb into his mouth.
"On your feet, Jarod," Parker ordered.
"No. Please. No!"
"We have no choice but to sedate him." Raines announced, his voice colored with equal measures of mad, wanton desire and frantic energy. He was eager to experiment and torture, all too thrilled to shoot someone full of drugs. "Here," Raines said, pulling open a drawer and withdrawing a small glass vial and a syringe. "Before he hurts himself." He offered the items to Parker, who very gracefully managed to prevent her mask of indifference from slipping. It's just as Jarod predicted.
"Hurts himself," Parker spat. "If he doesn't behave," she said, nudging Jarod's shoulder roughly with the toe of her Louboutin pump. "I am going to hurt him. On your feet, moron."
"Mommy," came Jarod's high-pitched wail. "Help me, Mommy!"
Lyle, in his office at the opposite end of the corridor, shielded the headset's mouth-piece with a hand and bit back his frustration.
"I am not my mother," Parker interrupted brusquely, leveling her gun at Jarod, and for the first time in his life, Raines actually believed her. He reached for the intercom. "I'll have Willie-"
"May I suggest, sir, that you send Sam instead," Parker said. "This occasion calls for muscle, not speed."
"And if Jarod runs," Raines asked.
"He won't outrun a bullet," Parker returned flatly, becoming incredibly incensed when both Sam and Willie arrived, each men obviously hectoring for control, for a promotion, for survival.
"No," Jarod whined. "No, please. Please." The Pretender's panicked pleas increased exponentially.
"Who the hell invited you," Parker hissed at Raines' sweeper.
"The rumors are all true then," Willie said, ignoring Parker, and staring, instead, at Jarod.
"Please, don't do this," Jarod pleaded with Parker as he was pulled to his feet. "Don't let them do this to me," he wailed, dropping to the floor where he curled into a fetal position and plopped a thumb into his mouth.
"On your feet, Jarod," Parker ordered.
"No. Please. No!"
"We have no choice but to sedate him." Raines announced, his voice colored with equal measures of mad, wanton desire and frantic energy. He was eager to experiment and torture, all too thrilled to shoot someone full of drugs. "Here," Raines said, pulling open a drawer and withdrawing a small glass vial and a syringe. "Before he hurts himself." He offered the items to Parker, who very gracefully managed to prevent her mask of indifference from slipping. It's just as Jarod predicted.
"Hurts himself," Parker spat. "If he doesn't behave," she said, nudging Jarod's shoulder roughly with the toe of her Louboutin pump. "I am going to hurt him. On your feet, moron."
"Mommy," came Jarod's high-pitched wail. "Help me, Mommy!"
Lyle, in his office at the opposite end of the corridor, shielded the headset's mouth-piece with a hand and bit back his frustration.
This is not the time or the place for such a commotion.
Not while he was groveling. Agitated, he paced a circle around his desk and strained to hear.
"I understand your concerns, honorable sirs, but those projects- those projects, sirs, were botched as a result of Jarod's interference. No, we've played this one close to the vest to ensure no complications, and now that Jarod is a non-issue, any concern that Project Omega might be compromised is, I assure you, unwarranted. Yes. Yes, sir."
Lyle listened intently until, finally, the line went dead with a resounding click. He tossed aside the head-set, observed as it skittered across the lacquered desk. His career, and quite possibly his life, hinged on the success of Omega, Raines' brainchild, an eyes only project protected by the blood of those who had assisted the old maniac over the years. He could afford no mistakes, no rumors..
Lyle, enraged, walked quick, purposeful strides down the corridor and pushed opened the doors to Raines' office.
"I don't know or care what you were doing, but the next time I'm taking a call from the heads of the Triumvirate-" His eyes widened. "Jarod?"
Lyle listened intently until, finally, the line went dead with a resounding click. He tossed aside the head-set, observed as it skittered across the lacquered desk. His career, and quite possibly his life, hinged on the success of Omega, Raines' brainchild, an eyes only project protected by the blood of those who had assisted the old maniac over the years. He could afford no mistakes, no rumors..
Lyle, enraged, walked quick, purposeful strides down the corridor and pushed opened the doors to Raines' office.
"I don't know or care what you were doing, but the next time I'm taking a call from the heads of the Triumvirate-" His eyes widened. "Jarod?"
"In the flesh, baby brother," Parker purred.
"I don't have the time or the inclination to take on another project," Lyle asserted.
Parker holstered her weapon and sidled up to Lyle. "Let's get something straight right now: You failed to capture and return him, Lyle. Whatever he may or may not be, Jarod is not, nor will he ever be, your project." She stepped away and accepted Raines' offering.
A hush fell over the office when she stabbed the glass vial with the needle and filled the syringe. Jarod, writhing and whimpering on the floor, and surreptiously watching Raines' reaction, shuddered when Parker knelt at his side. "No. Please," came his halting gasps, and soft hiccuped sobs. "No. Please. Don't this to me," he cried softly.
"Hush now, Jarod. Shh," she commanded. "Let us help you."
"Pwromise you'll help?" He asked.
"Yes," she answered, smiling sweetly. "I'm going to pull up your sleeve and-"
"No," He cried suddenly and flailed onto his side in an effort to escape. "Needles hurt! Mommy! Daddy! Daddy, help me!"
"Sam," Parker ordered.
The sweeper joined the pair, held Jarod's cuffed hands, but was no match for the panicked Pretender.
"Lyle, Willie: hold his legs," Raines rasped, his eyes large and filled with rage.
"Tighter," Parker demanded, stabbing Jarod with the needle, and emptying the syringe's contents.
"You pwromised," Jarod cried- which to Parker, seemed like overkill. They hadn't practiced their performance, and neither of them had mentioned tears. "You pwromised," he wailed, rocking onto his back and then onto his side, back and forth and again. "Miss Parker a wiar," he said with a sniffle, and then commenced to audibly sucking his thumb.
"A wiar?" Lyle asked mockingly, obviously amused.
"He's reliving the night he was brought here," Raines observed, and Jarod had wondered if Raines would remember. "He grew despondent and rebellious. He was just as difficult to handle the second time we captured him."
"Well then," Parker said, pressing both palms into her lower back, "let's not make the mistake of allowing him to escape the Centre a third time. Sam: put Jarod in his space."
The sweeper nodded, and quite literally dragged Jarod to his enclosure. The door closed behind Jarod with a resounding clang. "Welcome back, Jarod," Sam said.
Processing the Pretender was no less surreal and chaotic than bringing him in had been. Parker's demands flowed effortlessly and were heeded without hesitation. No one defied the inestimable woman, and she had no qualms about reminding the staff of the fate they'd suffer should they dare to.
As promised, she deposited her reports onto Raines' desk, and gloated at Lyle's expense. She finalized two vacation requests, signed off on nutritional requirements, menus and supplements, and graciously thanked both the boys in the tower as well as the recently installed Triumvirate head, Jaha Yeboah, for their praise and the promotion.
Day one of her long term future had gone off without a hitch.
The new Parker legacy begins with you, Mr. Parker's words returned to ricochet through her mind.
"And so it begins," Parker murmured upon entering her new office.
"And so it does," echoed the voice behind her.
"Mr. Cox," Parker said, addressing the man neutrally, without turning, and unpacking a box.
"The Zulus are quite pleased indeed," Cox lauded.
"Not half as pleased as I am," She said.
"Oh, I can imagine," Cox returned with a light chuckle, slipping a single finger across the surface of the walnut desk. "All those bread crumbs leading you off into oblivion." He gestured slightly, sweeping his thumb across his fingers, seeking out dust- which was unheard of inside the Centre. It was a point of interest that caused him to ponder where, precisely, Jarod had found the mold and dust he'd use to create the sedative that had enabled his initial escape.
Cox shrugged, picked imaginary lint from his Armani suit, and swept his palms together in a gesture one would typically use to dust off something unsavory or maybe plot something of an equally unsavory nature.
"All those games," Cox continued. "The two of you, hunter and huntress, tokens moving on a board, always ending in a stalemate, if you will. But here you are." He smiled and gestured at her as if she were some glorious work of art. "Check and mate. The Queen still stands."
"I suppose that is one way of looking at it," Parker said nonchalantly.
"Your report indicates that Jarod lost control, that Sydney was injured in this," Cox grinned, "final pursuit."
"Sydney's whereabouts at this time are still unknown. I'd like to believe the umbilical between the pair acted to bridle Jarod's rage. My men are scouring the area as we speak."
"For a body?"
"Presumably."
"Ah, so you do fear the good doctor is dead then?"
"Good doctor," Parker repeated, skeptically. "Mm, I wouldn't go that far," She said and observed as Cox chuckled.
As promised, she deposited her reports onto Raines' desk, and gloated at Lyle's expense. She finalized two vacation requests, signed off on nutritional requirements, menus and supplements, and graciously thanked both the boys in the tower as well as the recently installed Triumvirate head, Jaha Yeboah, for their praise and the promotion.
Day one of her long term future had gone off without a hitch.
The new Parker legacy begins with you, Mr. Parker's words returned to ricochet through her mind.
"And so it begins," Parker murmured upon entering her new office.
"And so it does," echoed the voice behind her.
"Mr. Cox," Parker said, addressing the man neutrally, without turning, and unpacking a box.
"The Zulus are quite pleased indeed," Cox lauded.
"Not half as pleased as I am," She said.
"Oh, I can imagine," Cox returned with a light chuckle, slipping a single finger across the surface of the walnut desk. "All those bread crumbs leading you off into oblivion." He gestured slightly, sweeping his thumb across his fingers, seeking out dust- which was unheard of inside the Centre. It was a point of interest that caused him to ponder where, precisely, Jarod had found the mold and dust he'd use to create the sedative that had enabled his initial escape.
Cox shrugged, picked imaginary lint from his Armani suit, and swept his palms together in a gesture one would typically use to dust off something unsavory or maybe plot something of an equally unsavory nature.
"All those games," Cox continued. "The two of you, hunter and huntress, tokens moving on a board, always ending in a stalemate, if you will. But here you are." He smiled and gestured at her as if she were some glorious work of art. "Check and mate. The Queen still stands."
"I suppose that is one way of looking at it," Parker said nonchalantly.
"Your report indicates that Jarod lost control, that Sydney was injured in this," Cox grinned, "final pursuit."
"Sydney's whereabouts at this time are still unknown. I'd like to believe the umbilical between the pair acted to bridle Jarod's rage. My men are scouring the area as we speak."
"For a body?"
"Presumably."
"Ah, so you do fear the good doctor is dead then?"
"Good doctor," Parker repeated, skeptically. "Mm, I wouldn't go that far," She said and observed as Cox chuckled.
"I was never particularly fond of headshrinkers myself, Miss Parker; however, Sydney does have Jarod on his résumé, and in the past, you have warned us against severing the emotional umbilical. Do you disavow your stance?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then there will be ramifications if Sydney is indeed dead."
"I assure you there will be," Parker asserted. "Sydney is the only person capable of harnessing the Pretender's intellect, the only person capable of squeezing high profit returns from the Centre's most valued asset."
"And our asset's psychological status?" Cox inquired, standing arms akimbo, at parade rest.
"Certainly no one is more qualified to coddle Jarod than Sydney."
"Jarod is still unconscious?"
"He is," Parker answered. "He'll have a lot of work to do when he wakes."
"Yes, Madam Chairman, he most certainly will. You will, as well. Speaking of, it's getting late, and you should be celebrating this victory."
"Absolutely not."
"Then there will be ramifications if Sydney is indeed dead."
"I assure you there will be," Parker asserted. "Sydney is the only person capable of harnessing the Pretender's intellect, the only person capable of squeezing high profit returns from the Centre's most valued asset."
"And our asset's psychological status?" Cox inquired, standing arms akimbo, at parade rest.
"Certainly no one is more qualified to coddle Jarod than Sydney."
"Jarod is still unconscious?"
"He is," Parker answered. "He'll have a lot of work to do when he wakes."
"Yes, Madam Chairman, he most certainly will. You will, as well. Speaking of, it's getting late, and you should be celebrating this victory."
"I should," Parker agreed.
"I'd like to walk you to your car uh- if, of course, you'll permit me."
Parker gathered her coat and keys and met the man's gaze. "That would be lovely."
Parker gathered her coat and keys and met the man's gaze. "That would be lovely."
܀
Chapter End Notes:
