Chapter 1. Yellow.

 

  Jarod lay on his back, his hands interlaced neatly behind his head, counting the render artefacts on the white concrete ceiling above him. With a groan he turned to face the travel clock on the empty nightstand beside the bed, 4:25am. Too late to go to sleep but too early to be awake… He closed his eyes and opened them once more. Still 4:25am…

  Jarod sighed, unable to remember the last time he’d slept for a period exceeding 20minutes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out there was something on his mind.

 

  Slowly, Jarod sat up and looked around the bare apartment for something to do that didn’t involve thinking about sleep.

  Swinging his bare feet over the edge of the bed, a small smile bit at the corners of his mouth as Jarod’s gaze fell upon the yellow star-shaped nightlight plugged into the power point beneath the window. Even after years of experimenting he couldn’t decide if he liked it to be light or dark when he slept, so at his Sydney’s suggestion, he purchased a nightlight.

 

  Yellow was a colour that the centre had not yet ruined. It reminded Jarod of the sun, the sand, PEZ and a dress he remembered seeing Catherine Parker wearing once… Consequently, yellow was the colour he decided to wake up to. The way he saw it, waking up to a yellow glow was like watching the sunrise and no matter how severe his nightmares were, his ‘sunrise’ would remind him that there was a life out there that was worth living.

 

  Jarod stood up on the cold polished floorboards and advanced on the window that was partially obscured from the outside, by a billboard Jarod didn’t understand.

 

  4:27am was a lonely time. All of the drunk patrons from the pub downstairs had long since stumbled home, it was too early for the birds and way too early for the business district to be conscious, let alone making noise... Even traffic was non-existent, leaving the traffic lights hanging across the street to emit a steady green glow through the thick fog that reflected off the glass windowpane.

 

  4:29am. Jarod stared blankly down at the empty street below him, wondering if normal people lay awake at night wondering who they were, where their place in the world was…

  He’d often considered asking Sydney if they did, but Sydney probably wasn’t the best person to ask. Jarod knew that he didn’t get much sleep himself, and the psychological analysis of his fears wasn’t what Jarod was after. No, sometimes, all Jarod wanted, was to be told that he belonged… That he was valued purely because of who he was, whoever that may be… and not because of who he could become or who he could pretend to be…

 

  Jarod made a mental note to choose somewhere near a printing press or a bakery, or even a fish-market to make his next temporary home. Surely they’d be busy enough to be making noise at this lonely hour, and noise lead to distractions and distractions were the only thing that could turn his over-active mind off. Even if they only lasted a few fleeting minutes… or seconds even. At least if he had something else to occupy him, he wouldn’t have to think about all the bad things he’d done, or the bad things that had been done to him and his family at the hands of the Centre.

 

 4:32am. Knowing he still had a few hours to kill before his train would arrive at the station, and having already packed his scarce belongings just over an hour ago, Jarod retrieved his laptop from the small glass-topped coffee table on the rug and turned it on. Sitting on the couch, he opened his latest email account and sent his brother the second of the three obligatory emails they would send one another every week. It was a system they’d worked out that let them keep in touch, whilst ensuring Jay was safe with Major Charles and Emily, in the event that something happened to Jarod.

 

  But lately, this process had become really hard on Jarod, and the toll was showing in his extending pattern of insomnia. Sending coded emails back and fourth was safer for everyone... Jarod couldn’t live with himself if the Centre ever caught Jay because of him… but at the same time, Jarod knew what he was missing, and it hurt to have to have contingency plans where they could never know where each other were… where they could never just be together… never be a real family…

 

  Jarod kept his message short, and sent the email before he could reveal where he was, or where he was going.... He couldn’t trust himself of late, and noted the same patterns in Jay’s messages. Their correspondence was getting shorter and shorter, limiting itself to everyone being ok… despite the obvious fact that, that was just a lie they passed back and fourth in the hopes that if they said it enough, that it would become true…

 

< ~ >

 

4:40am. Jarod considered hacking into the Centre’s mainframe again, he’d had made lots of trips into the centre’s mainframe of late, and wondered if Broots had found his smiley face virus yet, or if none of the Centre’s upper echelon had felt compelled to use any of Jarod’s files since he’d planted it.

 

  He smiled to himself at the thought of who would be the most angry after opening one of his files and finding a big yellow smiley face in it’s place, that would simultaneously appear on every Centre networked computer in the country.

 

Gut instinct told him that Miss Parker would be the first to find it and Lyle would be the first to go to Broots. Sydney would find it funny, and Broots would too, when he found the coding behind it that was...

  Jarod nearly entertained the idea that it would be worth going back just to see their reactions… Nearly…

 

  Instead of looking for the digital archives that would confirm his instincts, Jarod decided to put his time to good use and search again for his mother. Knowing deep down that the four hours since his last search really wasn’t long enough for his mother to suddenly appear out of hiding… But Jarod pushed these thoughts to the back of is mind and resumed the search for Margaret, hoping beyond hope that she would suddenly appear, and that he could reunite his family, and together they’d disappear into the sunset, the Centre being nothing more than ancient history.

 

< ~ >

 

  5:45am. After searching every database he knew to exist, for any signs of his mother and coming up empty once again, Jarod turned off his computer and retired to the shower with the aim of wasting the next fifteen minutes, after which, he’d head on to the train station and wait for the first interstate to arrive and take him to his next temporary residence.

 

  Playing with the new shower fittings until he found just the right temperature, Jarod hummed the nursery rhyme he often used to remind himself to keep going. Lately, not being able to see his family was making it harder to get up in the morning, harder to sleep, harder to keep track of himself. He found himself turning to the nursery rhyme more and more, and gaining less and less strength from it.

 

  Leaning against the shower wall, Jarod slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms tightly around his knees, watching the water running down the drain. He’d just given someone back the life that had been stolen from them and should be happy, but all he could think about was the life that was stolen from him… The life that was still being stolen from him…

 

Was this all there was? Was this what his life had become, the same song playing over and over to an off-beat tune.

 

< ~ >

 

6:01am. Jarod swung his backpack up onto his shoulder and took one last look at the apartment he’d resided in over the last two weeks. When he’d first arrived it had been a dilapidated mess of Leon’s previous life, the life before the armed robbery that robbed him of his wife, his ability to walk and hence, ability to climb the stairs to his home.

 

  When Jarod had first met Leon, Leon was essentially homeless, going through the motions of a divorce, and struggling to manage the bar he’d owned for over 20 years.

 

  Jarod had decided to help and smiled at what he had achieved. He’d completely re-furbished Leon’s apartment and successfully found a couple to be tenants who were only too happy to help Leon run the bar. He’d converted the back cellars into a wheel-chair accessible apartment for Leon, and had restored the bar to its former glory, complete with growing patronage and profit margins.

 

  Jarod made his way downstairs and stopped at the photograph of Leon and himself that hung proudly on the wall behind the cash register. Jarod smiled at the picture, remembering the look on his new friend’s face when Jarod told him he was actually a builder that was between jobs and homes. Leon had offered him a place to stay without hesitation and in return, Jarod had given him his independence and accordingly life, back.

 

 Leaving the apartment keys next to the cash register with a note he’d written and few hundred dollars of the Centre’s cash so Leon could go and visit his daughter, Jarod slipped out into the dense morning fog, taking one last look up at the billboard that had puzzled him for the last two weeks.

 

  It was a huge photograph of a woman’s mouth smiling, with the words “Get it?” posted above. Jarod didn’t get it but smiled at the thought of the virus it had inspired.

 

  Maybe that was it’s point, that there was no point, that the advertisers just wanted to see how many people they could get to smile. In any case, it made Jarod smile every time he saw it, and for that, he was grateful.

 

  Maybe it was the fog, or the millions of thoughts running through his mind, or the billboard that distracted him, but Jarod failed to notice the familiar face watching him from cross the empty street. He of all people should have recognized that face. That face should have sent him sprinting in the opposite direction quicker than the duracell bunny…

 

  Instead, Jarod continued on down the sidewalk towards the train station, oblivious to the fact that he was being followed at a distance by familiar foes.

 

< ~ >

 

  Taking his seat next to the window on the train, his back to the direction of travel in the statistically safest spot for train travel, Jarod stared out the window at the yellow line painted on the platform to let people know when they were too close to the edge. Yes, he thought to himself, yellow was a safe colour.

 

  Jarod grinned to himself when a short kid wearing a yellow hooded jumper that Jarod figured could be no older than twelve years old, took the seat next to him. Jarod smiled openly when the kid offered him a PEZ from his basketball-shaped dispenser.

  Jarod held up his Daffy Duck, “It looks like we have something in common.”

  The kid smiled back, “I’m Max.”

  “I’m Jarod,” Jarod replied, watching as Max pulled a deck of cards out of his bag.

  “Do you know how to play ‘go fish’ Jarod?” his eyes lighting up as he asked.

  “I’m sure you could teach me,” Jarod smiled as Max pulled out the tray in front of him and the train left the station. There wasn’t anything that Jarod couldn’t be taught.

 

< ~ >

 

After several hours of chatting and playing card games with Max, Jarod sat watching the landscape flying past the window. Max had fallen asleep on his shoulder and his soft breathing was making Jarod remember just how tired he was. Looking at his watch, Jarod figured he could afford a few hours of sleep and settled himself into the seat, careful not to disturb his newest friend.

 

  After all, max had taught Jarod how to play snap, his new favourite card game. It didn’t matter how smart you were, a kid could always genuinely beat you at snap, and that’s why Jarod loved it. Card counting and probabilities couldn’t be manipulated in your favour. Snap was a random game of chance that the person with the quickest reflexes was destined to win. It was perfect in all of its simplicity, and Jarod had to admit that the hour they’d spent playing snap was the most fun he’d had in a long time.

 

  Settling into the swaying rhythm of the train carriage, Jarod found himself drifting off into a deep and dreamless sleep, the very kind his body had craved its whole life.

 

< ~ >

 

Jarod woke to the jolting motion of the train pulling into station. He went to scratch his forehead as he watched the platform come into view, but was stopped by the scarily familiar feeling of metal on his wrist. Confused, he stared for a second at the handcuffs that were tightly chaining him to his seat.

 

  “Did you see who did this to me?” He asked Max, who was visibly urging the train to come to a halt so he could get off. Jarod grabbed his wrist as he stood up, “Max?”

  Max pulled away frightened, “…I’m sorry Jarod…” he was on the verge of tears, “…He said he’d give me two hundred dollars if I put it on when you were sleeping… I’m really sorry…”

  “Who’s he?” Jarod asked letting a very frightened Max’s wrist go.

  “Him,” Max pointed to a man dressed in a suit that was standing on the platform.

 

  Jarod started to panic as he stood and watched Max expertly weave his way through the other passengers, towards door, “Max!” Jarod yelled after him as he watched Max’s backpack bobbing through the crowd on the platform towards Sam, “Max!”

 

  Jarod watched helplessly as Sam handed him the cash and Max pointed to Jarod without looking back. Sam smiled and left Max standing alone on the platform whilst he disappeared from Jarod’s line of sight.

 

   Jarod started to sweat and sank back down into his seat, where he felt the cold barrel of a gun being forced sharply into the back of his neck, “Boo.”

  Jarod didn’t need to turn around to recognize that voice.

  “Bet you weren’t expecting me Wonder Boy.”

 

  The train begun to accelerate away from the platform, “I hope you gave him his money,” Jarod snarled, glaring angrily out the window at his diminishing freedom.

  “Actually, we doubled it.” Sam interrupted, taking Max’s empty seat next to Jarod.

 

  Jarod watched the trees flying past the window, desperately trying to free his wrist from the handcuffs.

  “It won’t do you much good. That kid has talent,” Sam admired the firm application of the handcuffs, “But we wouldn’t want to risk another escape attempt now would we?” he pulled a loaded syringe from his jacket pocket and made a show of attaching a 22 gauge needle to the end.

 

  When he motioned to grab Jarod’s cuffed arm, Jarod grabbed Sam’s wrist with his free left hand, and felt the gun being jammed painfully into the top his left shoulder, and heard the hammer being cocked back.

 

  “Please let me shoot. It’s been entirely too long since I’ve gotten to inflict pain on you, and yet you manage to make every waking moment of my life a living hell,” Jarod reluctantly let Sam’s wrist go, knowing Lyle wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him and winced painfully as Sam vengefully stuck the needle into the basilic vein of his right forearm, at the point just before it became the brachial vein, distal to the hinge joint of his elbow. A small tear escaped his eye and ran down his left cheek falling silently on the black leather of his jacket, as Sam emptied the syringe expertly into his vein.

 

  “Fine. But don’t go thinking that I’m not going to play with you when we get back to the Centre. In fact, we’ve had a whole new playground built just for you…” he patted Jarod on the shoulder, “The smiley face was a nice touch though Jarod. Who knows, perhaps I’ll have one painted on the wall of your new cell.” Lyle re-holstered his gun and sat down in the seat directly behind Jarod, kicking it for good measure as Sam pushed Jarod’s head back into the seat and removed the syringe, “Sleep tight sweet prince. You’ll be home before you know it.”

 

  Jarod bit his lip hard as he felt the drug making it’s way to his heart where it would be distributed all over his body and he would be unconscious before he knew it. Stealing one last look at the freedom of the outside world, Jarod felt his eyelids grow heavy and the bite he held on his lip grow weak. Taking a deep breath, Jarod smiled to himself at the thought the Jay was safe. All the agonizing over the past few months had been worth it.

 

  Jarod let himself fall asleep, no longer caring about his future. His brother, sister and father were safe and in three days, had they not received an email from him, would be driven so far underground that no one would ever find them again.

 

< ~ >

 

 

Chapter 2. Shades of Guilt.

  Miss Parker watched Jarod sleeping off the effects of a heavy sedative and yet another round with her demented brother, through the one-way glass of the private infirmary.

  She sighed at the thought of the works Rains had commissioned for the entire level; effectively converting it from his own personal playground, into Jarod’s own private hell. Everything they could possibly require to keep Jarod locked away for the rest of his life was now located on one convenient level… They wouldn’t ever have to risk moving him again…

  Biting the inside of her cheek, she watched the steady but shallow rise and fall of Jarod’s chest and battled the constant voice in her ear that reminded her of the ever-growing guilt that she now felt. She deeply regretted her part in using a child against Jarod and silently prayed that he could forgive her... That she could forgive herself…

  Glancing away at the sound of footsteps, Parker caught sight of her iniquitous twin rounding the end of the corridor and quickly replaced the appearance of desolation, anguish and guilt, with one of ice.

  “Your phone is off,” Lyle arrived next to her, folding his arms across his chest in an act of dominance as he smiled at the heavily sedated Pretender.

  Parker turned back to watch Jarod, “Yet you still managed to find me.” Her reply was spoken through clenched teeth. She was not in the mood for Lyle’s taunts.

  Lyle smiled at her obvious irritation, “Yes, well seeing as you decided to grace us with your presence today, Raines wants to see us both in his office…” he paused to look at his watch, “…30 seconds ago...”

  Miss Parker smiled defiantly in return, “Well you can tell Wheezy that my contract is up... I no longer have to have anything to do with the Centre...”

  Lyle interrupted before she could continue, “He said if that was your reaction, to enlighten you to the fact that Mr Parker will be in attendance...”

  “Did he just?” Parker raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and considered the likelihood that her brother was just too scared to face Raines alone. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried to manipulate her, and even she had to admit that since the decrepit bag of bones had taken the Centre’s helm, not even being a potential relative could guarantee sanctuary…

  Lyle could tell what she was thinking, but was silenced by the untimely ringing of his phone, before he had the chance to interject, “Lyle… Actually, she’s with me now… I am, she’s yet to decide… Very well…” he handed her the phone.

  “What…? Daddy…?” She brushed past her brother and headed off towards the elevator, in the direction Lyle had just come from.

   Lyle jogged after her, catching her as she hung up the phone, “So I take it you’re coming then?” when Parker didn’t respond, he continued, “And you thought I was lying about dad...” He grinned at her frosty reflection in the metal as they neared elevator doors.

  Miss Parker turned around and glared abrasively at her brother, before stepping inside the elevator and staring intently at the doors, willing them closed before he could join her. Her will failed and Lyle followed with yet another grin, determined to make the most of the newfound almost-leverage he had over her.

  Together, albeit as far apart as the elevator would permit, they ascended in silence to the lobby.

<~> 

  Seeing Miss Parker exit the elevator from across the lobby, Sydney made a direct beeline towards her, only to be stopped in his tracks by the sight of Lyle struggling slightly, to keep up with his obviously enraged twin sister. Sydney stared in shock as they crossed the foyer, headed towards the tower elevator without so much as a glance in his direction, or any direction for that matter. They were clearly siblings on a mission and Sydney couldn’t decide which part of that fact was the most unnerving. After all, he hadn’t seen or heard back from Parker all week, and as far as he knew, Lyle hadn’t left the sublevels or Jarod, since he’d brought him in three days ago... And that wasn’t even to mention the fact that under normal circumstances, Parker and Lyle would avoid one another like they would the plague…

  There was definitely something going on, Sydney just hoped against his better judgement, that it didn’t involve Jarod.

  Sighing heavily, Sydney set himself up in the best position to catch Miss Parker on her return to the lobby, hopeful that it wouldn’t be a long wait and even more hopeful that he could catch her on her own, where he had the slightest chance of pleading his case to see Jarod.

<~> 

  Arriving at the chairman’s office, Miss Parker didn’t wait for their presence to be announced, and barged past a stunned secretary and equally astounded Lyle, right into the middle of the lion’s den.

  At the sight of her father behind the chairman’s desk, the speech she’d rehearsed over and over in her head should she ever live to see him again, was silenced. Instead, Parker stared at him in blatant disbelief. She didn’t even bother to acknowledge the wasted office space that was being taken up by Raines hovering behind him. Her gaze was transfixed and unwaveringly set upon Mr Parker.

  “Angel.”

  Miss Parker stared from him to the file sitting on the desk in front of him, and back again without blinking, “We had a deal.”

  “One… that you’re… yet to complete…” Raines gathered the file in front of Mr Parker, and handed it to Lyle, who’d strategically placed himself between the chairmen and his sister.

  “Gemini?” Lyle opened the file, leafing through the pages it contained.

  Miss Parker ignored him, glaring from a smiling Raines to her tight-lipped father, “We agreed that once Jarod was back, I was done...”

  Lyle lifted his head from the pages, “Jarod’s not back...”

  Miss Parker glowered at her brother, “Oh? So who exactly do you have chained to a gurney on a newly refurbished SL-27?”

  Lyle passed her the file, “That would be Jarod…” he waited for her to look at the photograph attached by a paperclip to the front of the folder, “…but so would he...”

Miss Parker sat abruptly on the chair behind her, staring at the photo of Gemini. He looked so much like the Jarod she used to know…

  “Jarod was assigned to Cox and myself…” Lyle again folded his arms across his chest as if to establish his dominance once more. He wasn’t about to sign Jarod back over to his sister, and no matter how critical she was to his re-capture, Lyle would be dead and buried before she took all of the Triumvirate’s praise from underneath him.

  “And your sister will head the search for the clone,” Mr Parker’s tone was as commanding and resolute as ever, there was no doubt that he’d reclaimed the chairman’s position and all the power that came with it.

  Miss Parker stood and threw the file down angrily on the desk in front of him, “So I’m supposed to forget our deal; forget that you just disappeared for a few months; forget that I brought the wayward genius home; accept that you’re chairman again and go off merrily searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack that is Jarod’s clone…?” She spoke without a breath, fuelled by ire and pain, “…And how exactly do you suppose that I do that…?”

  “You found Jarod, Angel. Jarod’s the key to everything.”

  “So you’ve told me,” Miss Parker replied through clenched teeth, sitting back down and staring bitterly at the file she’d thrown across the desk.

  “There’s no ‘I’ in team” Lyle muttered under his breath in her direction, before speaking up, “…Then there’s just the tiny problem that Jarod’s not exactly willing to cooperate…” Lyle sat on the chair next to his sister, “He’s gone nine rounds with the cattle prod and the best we’ve got out of him were a few incoherent screams…”

  Miss Parker closed her eyes and tried to block out what Lyle had just said about Jarod. Had she really been so naïve that she’d believed she was out, the second she brought Jarod in? Had she really been so infuriated and inebriated to give Jarod to Lyle, without any concrete evidence that it was him that she should be mad at?

  She was so… tired… that kind of tired…

  Miss Parker stood abruptly, disappearing from the office in haste, without further word or dismissal. She even made it to the elevators before Lyle caught up to her, “I don’t think they were done…”

  Stepping inside and turning around, she sent Lyle a look that stopped him in his tracks, and she didn’t divert her stare when the doors closed. Instead, she spent the duration of the elevator’s descent to the lobby, glaring at herself. Was this really who she’d become, just another pawn on her father’s twisted chessboard?

<~> 

  Upon exiting the elevator, Miss Parker literally ran into Sydney, whom she knew had been stalking her since Jarod was brought in, and whom she’d been deliberately avoiding.

  “He’s fine Sigmund,” she snapped as she stalked across the marble floor.

  “Just like you I suppose,” Sydney replied, struggling to keep her pace.

  “Exactly.”

  “Who are you trying to convince Miss Parker, me or yourself?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “You have to let me see him. Jarod’s...”

  Miss Parker snapped around to face him. He could see that she was fiercely battling her own demons, “Not my problem Syd... Apparently, I have a clone to catch…”

  Sydney watched her storm over to the sub-level elevators and press the button incessantly until the doors opened. He was sure she did the same to close the doors, and again to command the elevator to descend.

  Biting his lip firmly enough to draw blood, he turned away to head back to his office and call Broots, when Sydney was confronted by the sight of Mr Parker exiting the tower elevator, followed closely at heel by Lyle and Raines. Instantly changing his course of direction, Sydney went to find Broots in person, in the hope that he might have some clues as to what was going on, in the Tower; or even better, that he’d successfully tapped into the security footage of wherever it was that they were holding Jarod…

<~> 

  Stopping outside his room for the second time that day, Miss Parker again, watched Jarod from behind the glass. He was still in the same position as before, asleep; cuffed and shackled to the gurney; dressed in the shapeless charcoal grey scrubs that were mandatory for all of the Centre’s high priority prisoners. The extensive bruises littering his bare chest, coupled with the paired burns from the cattle prod and flesh wounds from the taser barbs, were even more apparent than before.

  Taking a deep breath, she scanned her palm on the electronic door lock, and entered the room.

<~> 

  Jarod had woken to a dull pain that seemed to emanate throughout his entire body, but was determined to appear as if he was still asleep while he assessed the situation.

  He knew he had one broken rib, possibly three; and that the referred pain in his neck and with each breath told him that he’d deflated a lung and his diaphragm was still recovering it’s normal rhythm; in-turn, inflicting the pain in his neck through the phrenic nerve…

  He suppressed a small smile at the thought of the high school biology class he’d spent trying to convince the students that humans had evolved from fish. It took him a whole 80 minutes to explain the fact that the phrenic nerve originates from the cervical vertebrae in the neck and supplies the diaphragm in the lower thoracic cavity, is evidence enough that human lungs evolved from fish gills.

  Jarod gently tugged at his wrists. A catheter and IV line were inserted into the back of his left hand and both wrists were tightly restrained to what could only be a gurney beneath him. His ankles too, were bound securely to the steel bed frame. Clearly he was in an infirmary but knowing that, did little without knowing who belonged to the heavy breathing beside him…

  Biting his tongue, Jarod fabricated having just woken.

  “Not one of your finer ideas Jarod,” Miss Parker stood over him, akin to an eagle towering over its prey.

 Jarod shook his head slightly, he should have recognized her perfume long ago, but today she was perfume free. Miss Parker was never perfume free…

  Jarod glanced around the bare polished concrete bunker they were in, and noted the positions of the two nameless sweepers that were eagerly eying him off, just waiting for an excuse to give him more face time with their newest coercion tool, a shiny black cattle prod. Just the thought of it made Jarod’s body ache that little bit more, his heart skipping a few beats. For now at least, escaping this room was impossible.

  Letting his eyes rest back on Miss Parker, he considered breaking his silence to taunt her for letting them using a child against him, but decided that, that was why she’d made her way down to see him, and decided that maintaining his silence would give him more satisfaction.

  Miss Parker picked up the chart from the base of the bed and flipped through the pages, “It says here that you’ve got three cracked ribs. Must be painful...”

  Jarod couldn’t discern the motive behind her words so he just stared up her, determined to keep his face expressionless. It was something he’d picked up about Parker. She could glibly handle sad and begrudgingly manage happy, but if someone was genuinely indifferent, she didn’t know what to do. Jarod even attributed this to the power Mr Parker held over her…

  “…Freud’s been beside himself Jarod. They won’t let him near you until you give Lyle what he wants…”

  Jarod continued to stare at her, hoping that she wouldn’t notice the flicker in his eyes when she brought up Sydney. He knew it was only a matter of time before they used Sydney against him.

   But what had Jarod more intrigued, was the way Miss Parker was determined to distance herself from ‘they,’ a collaborative that she technically belonged to.

  Miss Parker didn’t notice the fleeting dilation of Jarod’s pupils, instead taking a seat on the empty gurney that occupied the remaining portion of the otherwise bare concrete room, “…And the little weasel will get what he wants Jarod… They’ll all get what they want…”

  Jarod did his best not to smile. The last time he saw Lyle, Lyle did not get what he wanted and Miss Parker had just confirmed that Jarod’s price was a few cracked ribs, those he could handle. Giving Lyle his brother however, he could not.

  “…He is going to find him Jarod.... He found you after all…”

  The tone in her voice fell to one that Jarod didn’t recognize, and she avoided making eye contact by dropping her gaze to her neatly crossed knees. This wasn’t the ice queen, the scared child, or the survivor persona that Jarod knew… This was a very different Parker and she had Jarod intrigued.

  Jarod decided to break his silence, “I’ve never been hard to find Miss Parker.”

  His comment drew the icy expression that she was clearly craving.

  She smiled callously in return, “Suit yourself.” Slipping off the edge of the empty gurney in one swift motion, she walked the seven strides to the door, her heels clicking loudly on the polished concrete floor beneath her.

  “I’d show you out…” Jarod rattled the handcuffs against the steel bed rails to provoke her, but Miss Parker simply ignored the snide remark, scanning her palm on the electronic door lock and exiting the room at the first opening that could accommodate her slight frame.

  Jarod watched her leave, her absence leaving the room feeling empty and sterile once more, not even a trail of perfume in her wake. Staring up at the fluorescent tube lighting above him, Jarod considered Parker’s odd behaviour. It looked to him like she hadn’t slept all week, but something that must have happened just before her visit, seemed to really tip her over the edge. Even her icy expression was half-hearted and Jarod had never witnessed that before… That wall was usually the rock solid defence Miss Parker used to shelter the scared child she hid inside, the child he used to know…

  Something was clearly upsetting her and it was obvious to anyone that she’d come to him for some sort of absolution, some sort of understanding... Jarod almost wished he could take back his comments and see if she’d offer up anything more… She didn’t even mention the photographs he’d sent her, and instead of asking, he’d let her leave angry, before she could project any more guilt back at him…

<~> 

  Miss Parker watched Jarod through the glass once more, and sighed. If only he knew just how sorry she was, just how much she hated herself right now… She didn’t know… If only she could tell him that she didn’t know… That she was tired too…

  She watched one of Jarod’s doctors enter and aggressively take his pulse and blood pressure, before attempting to listen to his chest. Jarod was determined to make it difficult for the doctor, wriggling and coughing until the doctor couldn’t take it any more and injected a syringe full of sedative directly into the IV line taped firmly to the back of Jarod’s hand.

  Miss Parker watched him keep up his act, right up until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, and fell into unconsciousness. He wasn’t unconscious for long, before Lyle found Miss Parker for the second time that day. This time, she didn’t even acknowledge his presence with a glare.

  “Nice to see you too sis.”

  Miss Parker didn’t respond.

  “I don’t really know what you expected… But for what it’s worth, we make a great team... If Jarod didn’t see us coming, we can hardly expect the clone to...”

 Without looking, Parker could picture the smug grin on his face, “I think you should let Sydney talk to him,” her gaze hadn’t left Jarod’s face, even in his sleep it was obvious he was haunted.

  “And he can... Just as soon as Jarod gives us Gemini...” Lyle smiled and scanned his palm on the electronic door lock, entering the infirmary for an update on the damage his latest round of persuasion had caused.

  Miss Parker turned and left, she couldn’t take it anymore. It was time to find Sydney. Something she should have done long before things had gotten so far…

<~> 

  Sydney stood nervously over Broots, who was rapidly typing code after code into his laptop, sitting on the edge of Sydney’s mahogany desk.

  “Are you sure it was him? I mean I thought he was… well, dead…” Broots muttered as he typed.

  “It was Mr Parker... I think his sudden re-appearance may be why Parker is avoiding me...” Sydney stared blankly at the impressive collection of books he’d acquired over the years. Normally, he’d find solace in the words of his predecessors, not today though. Today he’d give his entire collection, a lung and a kidney to know that Jarod was ok.

  “…You said she mentioned Gemini…?” Broots hit the enter key, and turned to face Sydney.

  Sydney nodded his head slightly, “She said that apparently she had a clone to catch...”

  Broots glanced back at the flashing screen, “It’s still rejecting me. The encryption code keeps changing… Whatever’s going on down there, they don’t want anyone to know...”

  Sydney closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He’d give his life to know that Jarod was safe.

  Broots watched his friend’s anguish in silence, recommencing his typing in a defiant refusal of defeat. He couldn’t let Sydney down, especially not when it came to Jarod, “We’ll find him Syd.”

Sydney offered him a weak smile in return, not trusting himself to say anything that he wouldn’t regret later.

  Neither of them noticed Miss Parker standing at the doorway, until she cleared her throat and announced her presence.

  Broots jumped from his position perched on Sydney’s desk and instantly stood up straight as she entered the office without invitation, “Mm…Miss Parker…”

  Walking confidently up to the nervous tech, she leant over Broot’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Get out.”

  Broots took one look at the expression on her face before retrieving the laptop, and ducking out of the room; his head bowed slightly out of reach, should she decide to assist him out. He hadn’t seen her so angry in a long time and maybe Sydney was right… Maybe something bigger than Jarod was going on…

  Sydney opened his mouth to protest at her unnecessarily harsh treatment of their friend, but was silenced when Miss Parker held up a DSA.

  “He’s ok Sydney.”

  Uncertain of whether she meant Broots or Jarod, Sydney took the disc from her and loaded it into his DSA player. Taking a deep breath he played the file, relieved to see Jarod asleep. He was in an infirmary that Sydney didn’t recognize and had clearly suffered since his retrieval, but he was alone…

  “SL-27’s had a bit of a make-over,” Miss Parker sat down on the couch, staring abstractedly at the books that lined Sydney’s shelves. He turned to face her and caught her battling her invisible demons for the second time that day, “…I didn’t mean it Syd… I didn’t know… I didn’t…”

  Sydney sat on the couch next to her, unsure of what she was confessing. Whatever it was, he knew it was big. Big enough for her to voluntarily come to him and that could only mean that it involved Jarod and/or her family…

 He took a deep breath and fought the inevitable sinking feeling in his stomach.

  As a friend of Catherine’s, a friend of Parker’s and a friend of Jarod’s, Sydney wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was about to tell him… But the psychiatrist within, told him that he had to listen to what she had to say… The scientist within, told him he had to know the truth…

  Not about to push or interrupt, he waited for Miss Parker to continue on her own accord...

<~>

Chapter 3. That Kind of Tired.

 

  Miss Parker stared at the unsightly grey carpet of Sydney's office, and decided to start where her latest waking nightmare had kicked off, 3:26am on Monday morning...

<~>

3:26am Monday morning:

  Rolling over and flicking on the lamp on her nightstand, Miss Parker throttled the ringing phone in anger, "What!?" she glared at the clock on her nightstand, 3:26am.

  "...I can call back..."

  "Jarod, of course. No one else I know is masochistic enough to call at this god forsaken hour..." Sarcasm was all Parker could muster as she flicked off the light and lay back against the pillow, exhausted.

  Jarod was quiet for a second, "...I sent you a package... It should arrive later this morning..."

  "What is it this time, another dead fish?" She rolled her eyes in the dark, all too familiar with Jarod's parcels.

  "Not this time... This is for you...."

  "Ohh and the fish was for the whole Centre?"

  Jarod sighed, "...Don't you ever get tired Miss Parker...?"

  "Only when a certain lab rat calls me before sunrise..."

  Jarod sighed again, "...I'm tired..."

  Miss Parker sat up, "Perhaps you should go to sleep then Monkey Boy..." She didn't have to be a genius to connect that one.

  Jarod was silent for a few seconds, leaving his reply just long enough for Parker to wonder if he was still on the line, "...Not that kind of tired..." he answered cryptically and hung up the phone.

  In anger Miss Parker threw her cell phone across the room and smiled in satisfaction as she heard it impact with the wall and the battery fall out next to it. Lying back down, her head resting on the pillow once more, she tried to get to sleep, but instead found herself playing Jarod's last words over and over again in her head. What did he mean by not that kind of tired...?

  Cursing, she rolled back over and watched the blue glow of her alarm clock change from 3:37am to 3:38am. There was no way she was going to get back to sleep now...

  Begrudgingly, she pulled her satin dressing gown over the shirt of Thomas's that she couldn't bring herself to throw out, and made her way in the dark, to the kitchen. Without turning on the light she flicked the kettle on, before reaching for the scotch instead.

  Leaving the kettle to boil, she trudged into the lounge room and lay on the couch, nursing the bottle of scotch.

  ...And Jarod had the nerve to say that he was tired... She took a long swig from the bottle... He didn't know what tired was... She wiped the corners of her mouth with her sleeve... For all she knew, he was off on some island in the Caribbean with that red headed bimbo he'd acquired... She took another extended sip.... They probably had a puppy...

<~>

10:37am Monday morning:

  Miss Parker groaned at the sunlight streaming in through her lounge room window and sat up, knocking the empty scotch bottle on to the carpet with a thud. Yawning tiredly, she stood up and approached the front door. Whatever Jarod had sent her had better be good, she thought to herself as she turned the door handle with another yawn.

  Examining the doormat and finding nothing but the morning paper, she quickly glanced around the porch and felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of a yellow envelope. Lying in the exact spot Thomas...

  Taking a deep breath she retrieved the paper and the envelope and went back inside, inadvertently slamming the door behind her. She was tired and hung-over and already so late for work that she'd decided not to show up at all... Not that they'd received any workable leads from the Golden Monkey in over a month, anyway.

  Carrying her mail and the empty scotch bottle into the kitchen to track down the illusive painkillers that could numb the migraine she felt pounding with every step, Miss Parker made a mental note to stop drinking so much. 

  Leaving the paper and the unopened envelope on her kitchen table, she flicked the kettle on again and made herself a strong black coffee and only when the caffeine and painkillers had taken hold and forced her body awake, did she even consider opening Jarod's parcel.

  Pulling out a seat at the table, she sat down and ripped the top off the envelope. Taking a deep breath and muttering curse words to herself when she thought she heard a car door slam shut, she peered inside and screamed, throwing the envelope across the room and spilling the rest of her hot coffee all over her sleeve.

  Staring in revulsion and incredulity at the torn envelope top sitting on the table in front of her, she didn't even flinch at the sound of her front door being kicked in...

  She didn't budge when Sam and Willie entered with their guns drawn and ‘secured the perimeter,' or when she heard Lyle walk into her house, chatting to who could only be Raines on the phone...

  She didn't even blink when on Sam's word, Lyle found her in the kitchen, sitting almost catatonically at the table...

  "We stopped by to see why you hadn't come in.... Heard you scream...?" Lyle took a good look around her kitchen and lounge room before spotting the envelope on the floor, "...Everything ok...?"

  The concern in his voice was almost... genuine. He knew his sister was a lot of things, but she was certainly not the screaming type and the way she was glaring at the top of the envelope in front of her, told him that his answers were in the envelope on the floor.

  As they were joined by Sam, Miss Parker stood up and grabbed a new bottle of scotch from the cupboard. Unscrewing the lid shakily, she closed her eyes and took a long swig.

  "...I'll take that as a no..." Lyle responded, pointing for Sam to fetch him the envelope.

  Obediently, Sam walked over and picked it up, handing it to Lyle without examining its contents.

  Miss Parker took another long sip as Lyle examined each of the photographs inside, "...Who... Who would do this...?" he asked, unintentionally aloud, as he studied each shot in turn. These were some seriously messed up photos, even he had to admit that they were nauseating.

  Miss Parker knocked the empty scotch bottle from last night off the bench and onto the floor, "Jarod," she muttered from the corner of her mouth, as the bottle shattered on impact.

  Lyle looked at her in disbelief himself, taking the scotch from his sister and sculling from the bottle as she did.

  Miss Parker snatched it back, "He's going to pay."

  Lyle stared from the broken glass scattered across the kitchen floor, to his sister's incensed face, "You can say that again..."

<~> 

  Sydney watched Parker intently, "What was in the envelope?"

  Miss Parker glared at him, "Evidence photos... Trophy shots of Thomas..."

  Sydney covered his mouth with his hand.

  "Oh it gets better..." Miss Parker muttered sarcastically, flicking her expertly manicured fingernails against one another, in anticipation of Sydney's next brilliant question.

  "And you were sure...?"

  "I was hung-over," She pulled a clear plastic evidence bag from her coat pocket and flung it at Sydney, "It looked authentic."

  Sydney caught the bag awkwardly and examined the yellow envelope within. Written on the front in neat red lettering was her name: Miss Parker.

 "This is Jarod's handwriting..." Sydney stared at her in disbelief. He'd know Jarod's handwriting anywhere and there was no mistaking it, Jarod had written her name on the front of the envelope.

  Miss Parker turned away, "Open it," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

  Sydney stalled for a second but was interrupted by her impatience, "Forensics have already processed it twice..."

  He sighed and reached into the plastic bag, retrieving the envelope. Taking a deep breath, he peered inside and nearly dropped it at the sight of the first photograph. All he saw was a dead hand resting on the porch and he'd seen enough.

  "I screamed," she muttered sarcastically, silently thankful that Sydney had decided not to go through each and every photograph as her brother had done.

  "And forensics...?" He turned the envelope over once more, to examine the handwriting. He was certain it was Jarod's.

  "Found four sets of prints on the envelope, two inside it," she watched Sydney bite his lip as he returned the envelope to the plastic, "I told you it got better Syd... it still does..."

  "...They were a match..."

  "Yep. Only set of clean prints they found were Jarod's. The partials were all accounted for... Even time estimates say that he handled it long before me, Sam or Lyle..."

  Sydney traced the letters of Parker's name through the plastic with his thumbs.

  Jarod wouldn't do this, he couldn't, and certainly not to Parker. No, after all these years that he could have just vanished, he'd stuck around to help her see the truth; to help her piece together her life; so that he could find his... He wouldn't hurt her. Not like this. He couldn't...

<~>

12:24pm Monday afternoon:

  Lyle stared at his inebriated sister who was lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling.

  She'd moved on to her second bottle of scotch, "...I don't even want to kill him anymore..." she slurred, "...I just want to hurt everyone he ever cared about..."

  Lyle scratched his forehead, "But we don't even know where Jarod's family are, let alone the extent of his charity..."

  As entertaining as it was to watch his sister continually down increasing amounts of alcohol and grow progressively drunk, Lyle had to wonder what repercussions he'd face when she realised what she'd let him witness. She was usually the queen of cool, the very picture of composure; hell, she was usually a fully functional alcoholic. But even she couldn't hide the effects of the excessive drinking she was undertaking; and coupled with the obvious lack of sleep and the shock from Jarod's parcel, her anger had taken on a life of its own.

  Miss Parker pointed her bare foot up at where he was sitting in one of her black leather armchairs, "...Well, maybe we'll have to hurt him instead..."

  Lyle smiled, maybe they were related after all, "What do you suggest?"

  Miss Parker sat up, "He'll be expecting one of us to do it... We should get somebody he'd trust to bring him in instead..."

  Lyle smiled even further. His sister's drunken plan was brilliant. Shatter Jarod's trust in the good of the world and he'd have Jarod eating out of the palm of his hand in no time...

  "There's just the small problem that we don't know where he is, either," Lyle watched his sisters pupils dilate as he spoke.

  Miss Parker shook her head, "You don't know where he is, but he called me this morning," she smiled humbly, "I trace my calls..."

  Lyle's smile fell. Jarod wasn't stupid enough to stay on the line long enough for a trace program to find him... But then again, before he'd seen the photos with his own eyes, he'd believed that Jarod wasn't stupid enough to torture his sister either... Even he knew that messing with the bull only got you the horns.

  "Well, where is your phone?" Lyle looked around anxiously for the phone that was never far from his sister's side.

  "It's... broken...." She laughed.

  "But you can still trace the call right?" Lyle was willing to give anything a go if there was even the slightest chance that nabbing Jarod was part of the deal. Even he'd been stepping lightly since Mr Parker's departure and Raines's ultimatum, so anything that could swing the power back in his direction even if that power was to be shared, was worth pursuing.

  Miss Parker took a pen off the coffee table and grabbed her brother's arm, pushing up his shirtsleeve. She wrote a phone number and password messily across Lyle's forearm, "...He can..."

  Lyle grinned, examining her barely legible scribble, "...And just say we locate Jarod, what then?"

  "You find someone to make friends with him... and you get them to turn him in..."

  "Anyone?"

  "No," her reply was quick and forceful, unlike most of her previous ranting, "Make it a kid."

  Lyle laughed. He was really beginning to enjoy the company of his drunk, irate sibling. Together they could make quite the team, and should Parker's plan prove successful, their power at the Centre was guaranteed to elevate them to the top of the pecking order. No more bowing to the chairman, curtsying to the director... They'd be up there in the power stakes with the Triumvirate, Jarod as good as broken... Raines's ultimatum in tatters... After all, nothing was mentioned about working together...

  Turning to Sam who was sitting opposite Lyle on the couch, Lyle gestured to his sister, "It would seem that we, have a man to call about a rat."

<~>

   Sydney wasn't sure if it was the siding with Lyle, betraying Jarod, or using a child, that upset Parker the most.

  He even had to admit that he, himself, wasn't aware of the circumstances of Jarod's re-capture. Beyond the facts that he was caught and that Lyle had been the one to do it, of course. As far as he'd been aware, Miss Parker had not been involved.

  Sydney did his best to keep his face neutral. On one hand he had Miss Parker to worry about, but on the other, he had Jarod.

  "Have you spoken to Jarod since his return?" Sydney's voice had regained some of its previous urgency.

  "I wouldn't go so far as to call it that... but words were exchanged..."

  "Well, is he really ok?"

  "He wasn't in the mood to chat."

  "You have to let me see him Parker..."

  Miss Parker stood up, lighting a cigarette and leaning against Sydney's desk, "As of Tuesday, he's Lyle's property, and Lyle's made it clear that until he gives up Gemini, you're not to see him..."

  "But what about you?" Sydney was too distracted to question her previous resolution to give-up the cigarettes, and instead focused on the pain that he could see welling up in her eyes.

  Miss Parker laughed sarcastically, "Did I mention Daddy's back at the helm...? Apparently my only concern now, is finding Gemini... And until he's back here where he belongs, I'm still prime Centre real estate..."

<~>

3:27pm Monday afternoon: 

  Lyle sat impatiently on his sister's leather couch, flicking aimlessly through the TV channels, awaiting a returned phone call from Parker's contact. He wasn't really paying attention to the programs he was flicking through, just probing for something to pass the time while Parker was passed out and Sam was seeing to it that she was re-hydrated and sober enough to go after Jarod.

  Frustratedly, and after nearly two hours of flicking through channels in between phone calls, Lyle turned the TV off and threw the remote at the armchair across the lounge room. A small smile biting at the corners of his mouth as it bounced off the cushion and hit the floor with enough force to knock the batteries out.

  When one of the batteries rolled within range of his shoe, he lined it up ready to be kicked into the kitchen, stopped only by his ringing phone, "This is Lyle... Seattle... Got it." He hung up and smiled at Willie as he kicked the battery triumphantly, "Jarod's in Seattle. Guy even gave us the address he called Parker from."

  Willie smiled in return, waving his phone to indicate that he too had received good news, "Jet's fuelled and ready to go."

  Lyle flipped open his phone once more, and hit redial for Sam's number, "...She ready to travel...? Good. Car's waiting."

<~> 

  Miss Parker woke to the sound of the jet's engine and sat-up confused. She was lying across two of the pale leather seats still dressed in Thomas's shirt, an old pair of pyjama pants and her dressing gown.

  "Feeling any better?" Lyle asked, pointing at the banana bag IV line taped to the back of her hand.

  Parker ripped it out, "I need a drink."

  Lyle smiled, "Actually, you've had a little too much to drink..." he watched amusedly as she reached into her dressing gown pockets for her cigarettes, "We land in 20 minutes..."

  Parker rubbed her aching temples. She couldn't remember getting on the jet, let alone where they were going. All she remembered was why...

  "He's in Seattle. Living in some hole in the wall bar..." Lyle tried to get her attention as she stared right through him, "You're not having cold feet about this are you...?"

  Miss Parker glared at him in return.

  "Just checking. We wouldn't want him getting away again... Not after this..."

  Parker stared out the window. She couldn't quite figure out if Lyle was actually concerned about her, or if he was just using her anger to get Jarod back and win-over Raines. Either way, she had to admit that it brought a smile to her face at the thought of Jarod getting what he deserved...

  Lyle smiled, "It's funny, I would have picked you as the Victoria's Secret type myself..." he gestured to her dressing gown, testing her sober commitment to their newly shared cause.

  Miss Parker rolled her eyes at him, "And I would have picked you as smart enough to keep your mouth shut... Yet there you go, reminding the world that as far as you're concerned, silence really is golden..." Snatching her bag from the empty seat next to Lyle, she made her way to the bathroom to change.

  "Nice to have you back sis, we were beginning to miss the sarcasm whilst you were indisposed..." Lyle raised his empty glass towards the front of the jet, making a show of rattling the ice cubes.

  Parker ignored his last comment and the associated gesture, instead flinging open the door to the tiny bathroom in the jet's rear.

  Looking in the mirror, Parker glared back at whom she saw. The dark bags under her eyes made her look old and tired and hung-over; her hair was a mess and she reeked of scotch. The person glaring back at her wasn't a person she knew anymore, or wanted to know for that matter.

  No, the second Jarod was back in hell where he belonged, she was out. No more running across the country after phantom PEZ dispensers and slinkies, no more strip searches, no more late night phone calls and most of all, no more Centre.

<~>

  Sydney didn't bother to interrupt her again, knowing that it was better to just let her continue at her own pace and give them both time to process just what it was that she was saying...

<~>

11:03pm Monday night:

 Staring across the street at the billboard above Leon's bar, Parker lit up another cigarette. If Jarod wasn't still there, at least he had been at some stage. There was no doubt in her mind that, that billboard was responsible for the virus she'd discovered on Sunday morning, the one that Lyle later informed her was still posing a problem for the main network when he'd left to find her.

  "Go easy on the window. If Jarod spots us, the whole gig is up."

  Begrudgingly admitting that Lyle was right, Parker replaced the curtain and looked around the dilapidated apartment before her. Judging by the thick blanket of dust that covered the floors and kitchenette it hadn't been occupied for at least a year, probably longer. It was any wonder, she thought glaring at the hideous wallpaper adorning the walls. It looked like it was fresh from the walls of a circa 1970's caravan.

  Lyle was drinking coffee from the sole piece of furniture in the flat, a plastic garden chair that he had stolen from outside the café next door, after he'd helped himself to the coffee of course.

  Miss Parker glared at Lyle as he tilted the last of the coffee into his mouth and proceeded to play with the cardboard cup, slowly unfolding and re-folding the rim around the top. She had the headache to end all headaches and had refused a coffee earlier, a decision that was now determined to haunt her, care of her grating brother. Reaching into her coat pocket, Miss Parker retrieved a plastic medicine bottle and swallowed a small handful of pain pills.

  "You know you're an alcoholic right?" Lyle grinned up at his sister, determined to see just how much he could get away with, given that they were working together, that was. After all, he got off rather scot-free after his comments on the jet...

  "Functioning alcoholic. There's a difference."

  Lyle smiled, "So I suppose you could give it up whenever you wanted to?"

  "You suppose correctly." Parker folded her arms across her stomach. She actually planned on giving it and the cigarettes back up the second that Jarod was in Lyle's custody and her contract to the Centre was finished... Not that she was going to give Lyle the satisfaction of knowing that, "But seeing as we're sharing our character flaws, have you managed to find a Sociopaths Anonymous yet, or are you still working on the whole Asian prostitute thing?"

  Lyle smiled, raising an eyebrow in her direction. He'd expected to be met with direct threats on his life, not a half-hearted dig on his character. Obviously these photos had knocked her about even more than was blatantly obvious.

  Deciding to leave her to it Lyle resumed playing with his cardboard cup until his phone rang, "This is Lyle... Perfect. Willie stays with the kid until we confirm a sighting and the kid gets the money when Jarod is contained." He flipped his phone closed, "I've got to hand it to you Parker... You really do have the best ideas when you're pissed..." He flashed her yet another winning grin, leaving it up to her to discern whether he meant angry or drunk, or both. 

<~>

  Sydney watched her eyes closely at the mention of her being an alcoholic.

  Upon catching him, Miss Parker rolled her eyes away from him, "...So either Jarod tells Lyle where little brother is hiding, or I stumble across him and drag his sorry ass back here... Only then can you go and see Boy Wonder in his latest waking nightmare..."

  Sydney watched her icy façade growing stronger by the second, "...Why is there separate security around Jarod? Broots hasn't even been able to crack it yet." Stepping lightly was no longer an option; he had to cut to the chase before she cut herself off.

  "The Triumvirate don't know he's back," she sneered, "They're keeping Jarod's return a secret until they've got Gemini as well... It was Lyle's idea; giving them as much time to break Jarod as possible, before the Sims start piling up again or before the Triumvirate decide to ship him off to Africa... Besides, the Golden Monkey has a bit of a reputation around here..."

  Sydney stared at her assiduously, "...There's more isn't there...?"

  Parker smiled derisively back at him, "Of course... It wouldn't be the Centre if there wasn't..." 

<~>

11:07am Tuesday Morning:

  Miss Parker eyed the unconscious Jarod in the back seat, squashed awkwardly between Willie and Sam, "You're positive he's out cold?"

  "He's comatose til morning. We've got plenty of time Miss Parker." Willie pinched Jarod's cheeks as he answered her. Jarod remained unresponsive.

  "We're prepared in any case. He's not going anywhere." Sam showed her the loaded syringe in his concealed jacket pocket. He for one, was not willing to suffer a repeat of Jarod's last jet ride.

  Parker turned and watched the jet come into view at the end of the tarmac, "You'd better be. No one wants another déjà Vu of the last time Franken Kid was onboard a Centre chartered flight."

  Sam nodded knowingly. After all, he had been the one to cop Lyle's anger after Jarod's first aeronautical escape, and judging by the rumours that he'd intercepted at the Centre lately, Jarod's last bid for freedom had followed a similar course.

  Lyle smiled as he slowed down the black sedan on their approach, "Relax, he's not going to be a problem. We had the jet prepared just for him."

  Parker rolled her eyes. She'd heard similar lines before and way too often, Jarod had undermined even their best preparation attempts. All she wanted was for him to be back at the Centre and out of her life for good.

  Waiting eagerly for Lyle to stop the car and the instant he did, Parker flung open the passenger door and stalked up the jet's staircase. A smile crossed her lips at the sight of the straightjacket and black canvass hood that adorned one of the seats in the jets rear. Maybe they had prepared...

  Seating herself at the front of the plane, Parker eyed the mini-bar, but was distracted as Sam and Willie heaved Jarod's limp body up the stairs and dragged him down the isle past her, Lyle's back obscuring Jarod's face from her view. ‘Just as well,' she scoffed at no one in particular. He was the last person she wanted to see right now... Scrap that, she thought, all of them were. 

<~>

5:46pm Tuesday Afternoon:

  Miss Parker climbed into the back seat of the black town car that she'd requested take her home and watched Willie and Sam roughly dump a tightly bound and hooded Jarod into an awaiting limousine, in the rear view mirror. As the driver pulled away from the jet's hanger, she watched her brother happily chatting on his phone, the two sweepers and the errant Pretender now concealed behind the darkly tinted windows.

  When the limousine and her brother too were hidden from view, Miss Parker stared out of the sedan's window instead; determined not to let the guilty voices in her head ruin the feeling of victory and triumph that she felt now that she'd brought Jarod back. Effectively and efficiently, she'd ending her contract to the Centre. She was done.

<~>

  "I didn't hear of Jarod's return until Wednesday afternoon..." Sydney looked at her questioningly.

  Parker rolled her eyes knowingly, "It's not like I didn't get your phone calls or emails Syd, I just chose not to return them... And like I said before, the Triumvirate still don't know he's here, so in that respect, you should be glad that wheeze-bag Raines enjoys bragging..."

   Sydney shook his head, his eyes resting on her shiny black heels, "You're certain that Jarod was unconscious when they brought him in...?"

  "I told you, I went home... But as far as I know, Lyle didn't start playing with him until Wednesday evening..."

  Sydney stared back at the still shot of Jarod asleep that had remained on his monitor after he'd played the DSA earlier, "...Has he done any damage...?" Sydney trailed off, staring at the empty infirmary room on the screen that contained Jarod.

  "I saw Jarod's chart earlier. He's got a few cracked ribs and had a collapsed lung. The doctor's notes mentioned something about his heart being affected by the shocks but they weren't sure yet... Relatively speaking, I think he's ok Syd."

  "Shocks?" Sydney's voice raised half an octave in concern.

  Parker brushed his concern off, "Lyle invested in a cattle ranch... Turn's out no one thinks twice about a ranch owner ordering a bunch of cattle prods..." Sydney's jaw fell open as she continued, "Jarod's sweepers all get one... Lyle keeps the taser for himself..."

  Sydney stood up and walked over to his books to stop himself saying anything he'd regret later. No matter how much he thought he'd prepared himself to hear how badly Jarod had been treated upon his return, hearing his fears confirmed was a thousand times worse than he could imagine. Staring blankly at his bookshelves, Sydney decided to ask her the question that had occupied his mind since she'd appeared at his office earlier, "...Why did you come to me...?"

  Parker stayed silent. That was the million dollar question right there and she wasn't quite sure how to answer it... 

<~>

 

Chapter 4. Secrets and Lies.

   Lighting up another cigarette, Miss Parker stared at the carpet once more. So far she'd had to admire Sydney's patience considering what she was telling him, but even his unnaturally calm demeanour refused to make what she was about to tell him, any easier...

<~>

6:22am Friday Morning:

  Miss Parker sat in her car smiling. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was genuinely happy and willing to be at the Centre, not that it showed in her worn appearance.

 Despite bringing Jarod back three days ago, she'd still had trouble sleeping and it wasn't until she found herself sitting back on the couch with yet another bottle of scotch, that she'd decided she needed to come back and officially terminate her position. Only then would she be afforded the luxury of a complete nights sleep and only then could she convince the incessant voices in her head that she shouldn't be feeling as guilty as they were determined to make her feel.

  Enjoying the sound her heels made on the polished marble as she crossed the lobby, drawing stares from the few employees that were around at this hour; she made her way to her office, where she'd decided she'd await Raines's arrival in peaceful seclusion.

  Unlocking the heavy wooden doors, she scoffed at the piles of paperwork that had built up since Sunday. In the five measly days since she'd last come in, it looked like someone had transformed her office into an archive room.

  Clearing a stack of papers from her desk to the floor, so as to make room for her feet on the polished mahogany timber, Parker caught sight of a yellow envelope, buried deep between the expense reports she'd just pushed onto the floor.

  Glancing around suspiciously, she retrieved the envelope and studied the address on the front. In neat red handwriting someone had addressed the envelope to her, there at the Centre. Turning it over cautiously, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the return address. Jarod had posted it from the address in Seattle where they'd found him on Tuesday morning...

  Parker's heart rate started to climb as she studied the handwriting more closely. She'd have bet a kidney that it was Jarod's...

  Taking a deep breath she tore the top off and fleetingly glanced inside. Once she was satisfied that it wasn't a repeat of the last envelope she'd received from Jarod; the one that was sitting on top of yet another stack of papers on her desk, still in the plastic evidence bag from the forensics department; she reached in and retrieved a handwritten note, folded meticulously around an old restaurant brochure.

  Unfolding the lined notepaper carefully, she read the brief note.

 

Miss Parker,

               I came across this brochure and thought that you'd like to have it. Everybody deserves a smile.

                                                                                                                                                                  Jarod.

 

  Nervously, she put the note down and picked up the brochure, examining the cover. It was from some boutique seaside restaurant that had long since closed down and Parker wondered why Jarod had thought of her when he'd found it. Unfolding it with caution, should there be any more gruesome photographs tucked inside it, she gasped at the sight of the feature picture in the middle of the page...

  Tears started to well up in her eyes as she stared down at the photograph of her mother, wearing the most beautiful yellow sundress Parker could imagine. Sitting across from Catherine, dressed in a somewhat matching red dress, was a young Miss Parker herself, at about 7 or 8 years old...

  The photo was supposed to be showing off the panoramic views from the restaurant but all Parker could see was her and her mother; sitting at a window-side table giggling amongst themselves, oblivious to the fact that the photograph had even been taken. Miss Parker stared adoringly at her mother's smiling face, and had to laugh through her tears at the smiley-faced yellow balloon that was tied to the back of her own chair. They were so... happy together...

  Miss Parker briskly brushed the tears from her eyes, unable even if she wanted to, to shake the smile of pure un-attenuated adoration that graced her entire body and ensured that the joy-filled tears would continue to flow. She'd never seen a photo of her and her mother like this one. It was as if the camera had captured them both at their most carefree...

  Ever so gently, Parker brushed her index finger around the photo's edge, trying desperately to remember that day with her mother. She remembered Catherine's dress, the restaurant and even the balloon to a small extent...

  An unexpected wave of guilt instantly overcame her as she glanced back at the balloon. That very same smiley face had graced her computer screen and the entire Centre network a few days ago, after she'd opened one of Jarod's old computer files...

  Covering her mouth with her hand, Miss Parker stared at the balloon in utter disbelief.

  Right up until that moment, she hadn't even considered the possibility that Jarod didn't send her the first envelope. But after opening the second, she was quickly beginning to feel the guilt settle in. He wouldn't do something like that. Surely, he couldn't do anything like that to anyone... And the balloon with the smiley face... She knew Jarod too well to pass it off as a sheer coincidence. Jarod didn't do coincidence.

  Gently tucking her new treasure into the safety of her concealed coat pocket, Parker grabbed the plastic evidence bag from on top of the pile of travel reports and stuffed it into another pocket. Smoothing her coat and skirt as she stood, Miss Parker headed off in search of Jarod, the only person that as far as she knew, was yet to lie to her.

<~>

  Sydney stared back at Parker as she reached inside her pocket and retrieved the brochure. Passing it to him carefully, she explained how she'd found Jarod on SL-27 but how Lyle had then found her and told her of Mr Parker's return, before she had the chance to wake and confront Jarod about the envelopes.

  Sydney opened the brochure and smiled briefly at the photograph, before carefully closing it and handing it back to her.

  Clearly, it was now topping the list of her most prized possessions, but as much as Sydney hated to admit it, seeing Catherine's photograph just made him feel guilty for all the lies he'd told her daughter. The truth be told, he had only smiled for Miss Parker's benefit. Had he come across this photo when he was alone, Sydney would probably have shed a tear, especially knowing what he knew of their future and just how badly Catherine's death had affected that smiling little girl in the photograph...

  Miss Parker delicately accepted the brochure and replaced it into the safety of her pocket, apparently buying Sydney's attempt at a smile, before explaining what she'd been told by Raines and Mr Parker; and how, when she'd actually been to talk to Jarod, that their conversation hadn't really existed beyond a few meaningless barbs.

  Sydney paused for a long time, "...So who do you think sent you the first envelope...?"

  Miss Parker sighed heavily like the weight of the world, her world at least, was bearing down upon her shoulders, "...I'm not sure what I think anymore... All I know is that Jarod's life isn't going to get any better whilst he refuses to give up Gemini and until he does, or until I find Gemini myself, neither is yours or mine..."

  Sydney did a double-take and stared at her in shock for a second, "...So you're actually considering going after the boy...?"

  "Think about it Syd. Whoever wants Gemini back badly enough to frame Jarod like this, isn't going to let us stand in their way... And now that I've given them Jarod, they're expecting to find his clone..." The resolution in her voice was returning, along with the slowly building tension in the room; that was now beginning to feel even more claustrophobic than before.

  Sydney shook his head firmly. He'd stood by and watched Jarod's life crumble around him. He wasn't about to let them do the same to Gemini...

  Miss Parker cut him off before he could respond, "...I don't even have a choice anymore Syd... Up until this morning, I was glad that Jarod was back... An hour ago, I was even prepared to forget that he'd given me that photo, if it meant that I was done with the Centre... Now, I'm stuck in a worse mess than ever... If Jarod doesn't give up Gemini, they'll just torture him until they get something or he winds up dead in Africa... And if I don't find Gemini... I'll bet someone has a better idea than a few photographs in an envelope..."

  Sydney sank into the chair behind his desk in silence. She was right. Whoever had set up Jarod had planned it a lot further forward than he could have predicted. He bit his tongue hard at the fleeting thought of what it would be like to work with Jarod and Gemini together, quite possibly the two greatest minds the world had ever seen... Scientifically, such work would revolutionize the globe... but morally, it could slaughter Jarod and quite possibly Gemini too...

 Sydney knew it was wrong for him to want them back but at the same time, the debate in his head was growing.

 He took a deep and painful breath. This was the critical test of the approach he'd taken to his involvement in the treatment of Jarod his whole life... Did the greatest good lie behind his research and the affects it could have on the scientific community, or behind saving Jarod and Gemini from the hands of the Centre...?

  It was then that Sydney realized that he was stuck with the definitive moral and ethical decision of his life. A decision that could potentially affect everyone that he knew and loved, far more than any of the works that lined the shelves in his office... far more than the collective works of his revered predecessors...

  As a scientist he'd lived his entire life based on a moral system that focused solely on the direct consequences of direct actions that affected the greatest number of people... a utilitarian ethical approach that no longer seemed to be set in stone. Life was no longer that simple... but a deontological approach still felt as far away as the moon...

  Miss Parker watched Sydney pinch the bridge of his nose, lost deep in the despair of his own thought, "Jarod won't talk to me Sydney and there's no way in Hell that Lyle will let him talk to you..."

  Sydney watched the resolution in her face grow and closed his eyes, "And what exactly do you hope to achieve by involving Gemini?"

  Miss Parker scoffed in return, "Gemini's already involved. And like I said, his days are numbered regardless of what I want..."

  Sydney didn't need to hear those words to feel their impact, "Interesting choice of words..." he opened one eye and watched the colour slowly fade from her cheeks.

  "Don't even try to convince me that a part of you wouldn't love to have them both back," she snapped, turning away to face the couch so he couldn't see the pain in her eyes.

   Parker knew all too well that the fondest memories Sydney had, involved Jarod and just like she wished her mother was still with her, he wished his surrogate son was still with him and she couldn't blame him. After all, it was in his nature. Any psychiatrist would jump at the thought of learning from Jarod, and well, to have his clone; the first ever human clone there too... That was practically every scientist's dream. Passing that opportunity up was like a six year old passing up a trip to Disney Land. It wasn't probable, let alone possible... And that was going without saying that Sydney had spent most of his adult life knowing Jarod better than his own son... In many respects, Jarod was Sydney's son...

  Sydney clenched his fists, angry with himself for her being correct, and responded without his usual restraint, "I hope you don't exclude yourself from that boat, Parker..."

 Parker stood up straight, preparing to leave without further insult but evidently thinking the better of it, "I think the Good Ship Lollipop's full enough without me..." She left the office before Sydney could reply. Her heels clicking loudly down the corridor in her wake.

 "You never did answer my question Miss Parker..." Sydney called from the doorway as she stalked away, "...Why did you come to me...?"

<~>

  Deeply resenting the clicking of her heels as she stalked to the elevator, Parker bit her lip. As much as she wanted to go back to Sydney and tell him what she'd been putting off all along, she knew that they both needed time to collect their thoughts.

  Why did she go to him? Because he was the only person who could understand that what she'd done and what she was about to do, was no longer an act of animosity...

<~>

Broots stood nervously by the door; anxious that Miss Parker would appear any second and catch him about to show the security footage he'd stolen from her computer yesterday, to Sydney. He could tell by the way that Sydney was sitting hunched at his desk, that their previous discussion had ended in an argument.

  "If we get caught with this..." Broots was speaking softly, continually looking up and down the corridor outside Sydney's office.

  Sydney turned to face him, his jaw slightly ajar in anticipation, "You found something...?"

  Broots offered him a weak smile, "It's amazing what you can find when you look where you're not supposed to..." He took his hand from his pocket for a second, showing Sydney the DSA he hid securely in his grasp, "If Miss Parker finds out I took this..." His voice had trailed off into a whisper as he revealed his information's supplier.

  Sydney smiled, ushering Broots inside hurriedly and urging him to close the door, "You found out where they're hiding Jarod...?"

  Broots handed him the disk, spotting the still image of Jarod on Sydney's screen, "...But you already know...?"

  Sydney pointed to the screen, "Parker brought this down with her. All she said was that SL-27's had a bit of a make-over..."

  Broots watched him impatiently load the new DSA, "You can say that again. According to Jeff in maintenance accounts, the one with the chin thing..." Broots watched Sydney's shoulders tense up and subconsciously increased the speed of his talking in accordance with his friend's unease, "Anyway, according to Jeff, there's been millions spent on re-furbishing the sub-levels in the last six months... Only, when I spoke to Gary from custodial services, the one with the bald spot that's the shape of Florida, he said that that they haven't even changed light bulbs or trashcan's in the eight months that he's been co-ordinating the sub-level janitorial staff. But he did say that he'd heard of some hefty construction work going on below SL-26... So when I found Doug with the fake leg from construction accounts, he told me that works had been commissioned on SL-27 by none other than Mr Lyle..." Broots whispered his name as if saying it any louder would corrupt his soul and fleetingly glanced at his Belgian friend. Sometime during the course of his ranting, Sydney had stood up and was hovering nervously around his desk, waiting impatiently for Broots to continue, his eyes never leaving the DSA player.

  Broots got the message, "Sorry..." he sat down in the recently vacated chair at Sydney's desk and started typing, "...anyway Doug sent me a run-down..." he pulled up a basic accounts sheet, "...and I have to say that it sound's like they've created a whole separate facility down there..."

  Sydney read down the accounts list and shook his head in frustration. From the looks of it, Jarod was being held in complete isolation from the rest of the Centre, "...And the DSA, is it surveillance?"

  Broots nodded his head and turned around to face him, "...I've got to warn you, that footage is pretty hard to watch..."

  Sydney nodded numbly but reached past Broots to play the DSA anyway, "Thank you," he whispered nervously, watching Jarod being dragged into a concrete cell by Willie and Sam, followed at a distance by Lyle and a sweeper that Sydney didn't recognize.

<~>

6:15pm Tuesday Evening:

  Willie and Sam dumped Jarod face down on the cold polished concrete floor and awaited further instruction from Lyle, who was busy eating an apple disinterestedly by the door.

  "How long will he be out for?"  Lyle asked without looking away from the apple in his leather-clad hand.

  The unknown sweeper glanced at his watch, "The doctor said he's out for 24 hours, so 0900 hours is the best bet..."

  Lyle stared back at the sweeper, mid way through a mouthful of apple, "Best bet?" he raised an eyebrow, challenging the sweeper to repeat his last mistake, "We don't do ‘best bets' around Jarod... Not if we don't want him sneaking back off to Narnia, or Oz, or Wonderland, or wherever the hell Jarod goes when he gets loose... I've waited too long to get him back here, for you to go guessing when he'll return to the land of the living..." Lyle glared at the man with a hateful precision that would even impress Miss Parker. There was no way he was going to tolerate any mistakes around Jarod. Not with his reputation and life on the line.

  The sweeper nodded, placing his hands in his pockets in defeat, "...I can go and ask Mr Cox for a definitive time..."

  "You go do that..." Lyle interrupted, turning back to face Jarod, "Actually... make that their job, you can go back to corporate to keep Raines company... Willie, Sam and Sleeping Beauty here, will be fine for a few minutes, won't you Jarod?" He kicked Jarod square in the hip with his dress shoe and got no response, "See. They'll be fine to go get him cleaned up and checked out." Lyle smiled and left the cell, taking another bite out of his apple as he walked leisurely up the corridor, "Don't forget to brush his teeth, his breath smells like a skunk crawled into his mouth and died." He didn't need to turn around for the sweepers to visualize the smug grin that was sure to be embossed upon his face.

  The nameless sweeper bowed his head slightly and left the eight by eight cell following Lyle's shadow in disgrace. He was accompanied at a distance, by a silent team of Sam and Willie, who were purposely taking their time in dragging Jarod behind them.

 The two parties went their separate ways at the end of the passageway without a word. The new sweeper was glad to be free of Lyle, Sam was just hoping that Cox was in a better mood than the last time they'd crossed paths, and Willie was determined to enjoy his moment of triumph over Jarod.

  As Sam and Willie dragged Jarod's unconscious form down yet another identical corridor, it became readily apparent that both men were lost in thought, no doubt considering the very real possibility that they'd soon be joined by Jarod's clone., in which case, the real games were only just beginning.

<~>

  As usual both sweepers bit their tongues and did as they were told, making sure that Jarod smelt like a hospital and looked like a convict, before they were to present him to Mr Cox.

  Waiting nervously in the brand new exam room that was conveniently located right next door to the bathroom, Sam glanced at his watch, certain that Cox was watching the three of them on the monitors from another room, located somewhere in the midst of the elaborate concrete labyrinth they'd constructed to keep Jarod and eventually Gemini, locked away from the rest of the world. Taking solace in the fact that they'd been waiting for only three minutes, he stared at the bruising that was becoming visible across Jarod's nape, décolletage and wrists, the dark patches of skin accentuated by the charcoal tunic uniform that Jarod had been dressed in after his ‘shower.' 

  Jarod was going to have a hard time accepting his new situation, and the way Sam remembered the last time they'd caught the little anole, he wasn't going down without a fight...

  "I see you had no trouble following protocol..." Cox walked slowly around the stainless steel exam table, admiring Jarod's unconscious form. A short brunette doctor followed him, silently reading Jarod's history from a clipboard.

  Willie smiled, "Wasn't hard."

  Cox smiled in return, "...And the new facilities..."

  "...Should make our job a lot easier." Sam added, silently pleased that Jarod was no longer in he and Willie's sole custody. Despite the gargantuan security overhaul that had taken place, Sam was not convinced that Jarod would be even the slightest bit complacent in his new prison.

  Cox reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and retrieved a small flashlight, waving it across each of Jarod's pupils in turn, "...Out like a light..." he muttered, moving on to examine the inside of Jarod's mouth, "...Were there any contraband items that you came across...?"

  Sam shook his head. "He wasn't expecting us. All he had on him was a wallet full of cash and two small religious medallions... Saint Christopher and Saint Jude."

  "Really?" Cox replaced the flashlight into his pocket and looked at the sweeper, intrigued, "The patron Saints of travel and lost causes..." As he responded, the doctor put the chart down and started listening to Jarod's chest with his stethoscope.

  "...Mr Lyle has his possessions as we speak..." Willie continued.

  Cox smiled oddly, "These medallions... were they gold by any chance...?"

  Sam nodded, slightly confused, "Is there something wrong?"

  Cox laughed, his blue eyes twinkling mysteriously, "Nothing that won't work in our favour..." If he was right, he'd seen the tiny symbols before and knew that they were going to be a valuable asset in ensuring the demise of Jarod's inevitable stubborn-streak.

  Sam watched Cox and the doctor continue to check Jarod over, "Mr Lyle want's to know what time he'll wake up..." he focused on Mr Cox, who now had a strange crooked smile plastered across his face, a small glint in his eye.

  The doctor sighed, "It's hard to say... the barbiturates he was given are usually used in medically-induced comas so I'd say that given Jarod's history of under-performing GABA-A receptors and considering the cocktail of pentobarbital and thiopental that was used... he'll be out for another..." he paused to look at his wristwatch, "...I'd say between four to six hours..."

  "So he's not out til morning?" Willie had no idea what the doctor was on about, but whatever it was he sounded like he knew what he was doing.

  Cox smiled at the two sweepers slyly, "Not with this one. I wouldn't be surprised if he was awake in two to three hours to be honest..." He picked up Jarod's arm and let it fall onto the table beneath him, in what Sam assumed was a demonstration of his point, not that it told either of the sweepers anything beyond what they already knew, that Jarod was unconscious.

  Sam stared at Jarod, "So how long until we can get him back to his cell?"

  "Well, from what I can tell, he's physically healthy. A little underweight compared to his last visit but I'll just take a few samples and he'll be good to go," The doctor forced a smile and took a small handful of syringes and capped needles from his labcoat pocket. Wiping Jarod's left elbow with a sterile ethanol swab with one hand, he opened a plastic wrapped syringe with the other, "It shouldn't take long."

  Sam watched as he attached the needle and expertly begun to draw three vials of blood from Jarod's arm, Willie tapping his shoe impatiently the entire time.

  "Have either of you ever participated in a lumbar puncture?" the doctor placed the precious vials on top of Jarod's file on the side bench and turned to face the two sweepers, still slightly nervous about their presence.

  Willie smiled, "I have..."

  "Good because given the patient's size, I think I'm going to need you both to hold him perpendicular to the table in the horizontal lateral decubitus position.... With his body flexed as much as possible."

  The doctor began preparing a much larger needle while Cox instructed Sam and Willie to hold Jarod's body firmly in the fetal position, doubting seriously that either of the two knew what the lateral decubitus position was.

  Gently palpating the spinous processes until he located the lumbar vertebrae L4 and L5, the doctor inserted the 20-gauge needle between the two and expertly obtained a clear sample of cerebral-spinal fluid to add to his collection of vials. Snapping off his gloves he smiled at Cox nervously and left the room, taking Jarod's file and samples with him.

<~>

  Broots leant forward and skipped ahead to the next bit of footage, Sydney too uncertain to stop him. Why had they taken a sample of Jarod's cerebral-spinal fluid?

  "After that they just take him back to what must be his new cell..." Broots let his shoulders slump and resumed playing the footage, "Here's when he wakes up..."

<~>

 

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."

<~>

 

Chapter 6. The Line is Crossed.

  Miss Parker reached back across her desk, "I didn't know he'd fallen apart..." She muttered to herself, reluctantly resuming the footage where they'd left off.

<~>

  Jarod's gaze fell back to the plastic evidence bag on the table before him. The last time he'd seen her wearing the tiny gold medallions was the day she died...

  "Well... don't leave me hanging Jarod..." Lyle's tone was joyous, as if Jarod's obvious pain was spurring him into a good mood. He crouched down to Jarod's level, leaning his elbows against the table, "Must have been someone important..."

  Mr Cox folded his arms across his chest, his eyes all but giving himself away as the man with all the answers.

  "...You... knew...?" Jarod choked, desperately searching Cox's eyes for the truth.

  "I couldn't call myself much of a doctor if I missed it... What interests me is the fact that you did..."

  Jarod knew that this was just another tactic to get him to crack and he was more than ashamed to admit that it was working. He'd already spent many a week going over just how he could have missed the signs...

  Lyle was becoming impatient with being left out of the loop, his game suddenly becoming more serious as he slammed an open fist on to the table, "Who died Jarod?"

  "Are you familiar with George Huntington, Mr Lyle?" Mr Cox relished his chance to break Jarod and was enjoying the weariness that had penetrated Jarod's steely façade and was now readily evident in his eyes.

  Lyle turned to face him, "No I am not and unless George is the ‘she' that died, I'm not interested either..."

  "On the contrary Mr Lyle, George Huntington was a male American physician in the early 1870's..." Mr Cox's eyes shone as Jarod's fell.

  "Not interested..."

  "Well are you interested in Chorea Major, or perhaps Huntington's Chorea, or even Huntington's disease as it is more commonly known?"

  The penny began to drop and a smile quickly replaced the frustration on Lyle's face, "So this ‘she' died of Huntington's and you didn't even pick it up...?" He turned back to face Jarod, "Well now we're getting somewhere..."

  "Westphal-variant wasn't it Jarod? Early onset... Zoë had probably known since she was a teenager..." Mr Cox took a deep breath. The hardest part of his job being over, he was now determined to revel in Lyle's closing.

  Jarod hung his head into his chest. He'd tried to convince himself without avail that she'd hidden all her symptoms from him, but deep down he knew that it was his fault he'd missed them... After all, how many people walked out on their lives to buy shiny red convertibles and pick up strangers in the desert? Especially those that were supposed to be running from an abusive relationship...

  "How exactly does someone live with that Jarod? Knowing that someone as close as your precious Zoë was suffering right next to you in silence, whilst you were busy planning mystery parcels to send to Parker... I know I'd be inclined to blame my sister myself, but to send her those photographs...? That's disgusting Jarod... Maybe Alex and Kyle weren't alone in their respective psychoses after all... Maybe it's the ‘curse' of the Pretender gene... Maybe Gemini's going to be the next to crack... What if he already has Jarod? What if you've unleashed yet another psychopath on the world...?" Lyle pushed against the table, getting slowly to his feet, "...How could you live with yourself...?"

  Jarod shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but his vocal chords stubbornly refused to oblige and remained silent. His mind was racing and the pain in his chest was increasing with each breath. The only thing that was worse than the pain itself, was that he could see his freedom disappearing right before his eyes and couldn't even bring himself to fight for it... He couldn't even convince himself that he deserved it...

  "Well, you did send Parker those photographs, didn't you Jarod...?" Lyle straightened up, staring deep into Jarod's eyes as he smoothed his lapels.

  Jarod nodded his head in confusion.

  "You know what her reaction was Jarod? She wanted to hurt your family... She wanted to hurt everyone you've ever cared about..."

  Jarod looked up at him is disbelief. He'd expected Parker to be a little shaken and maybe upset, but the look in Lyle's eyes told him that Lyle wasn't lying to him. She'd been furious...

<~>

  Miss Parker felt Sydney's hand squeeze her shoulder gently as she saw Jarod nod his head at the mention of the photographs, "He hasn't said which..."

  She shook Sydney loose, raiding her pockets for a cigarette, her eyes transfixed upon Jarod's, "...not my concern..." she muttered, again to no one in particular.

  Broots watched Sydney sink away with the least amount of confidence he'd ever witnessed from the psychiatrist. Whatever had transpired between he and Miss Parker earlier, had Sydney doubting his belief in Jarod and that was something Broots couldn't believe he was witnessing. Desperately fixing his eyes back on the screen in front of them for any insights, Broots watched Lyle push the medallions off the table and replace them with a yellow envelope in a larger plastic evidence bag, "Recognize this?"

  Miss Parker turned her back to the screen, unable to watch the scene that in her heart she wished was untrue, but in her head couldn't be certain.

<~>

Jarod examined the red lettering on the envelope's front and nodded his head.

  "And the seven photographs inside, you recognize them too?" Lyle twirled the evidence bag across the table with his index finger.

  Jarod thought for a second, before nodding his head slowly.

  "Use your words Jarod. I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say that you sent these photographs to Parker."

  "...I sent those photographs to Miss Parker..." Jarod stared at the camera in the corner of the room, "She deserved them."

  Sydney gasped, his hand covering his mouth. Jarod spoke with such resolution. He didn't even ask to see what was in the envelope...

  Miss Parker smiled through the scarce tears that dared to defy her eyelids, folding her arms protectively across her chest as she faced Sydney, waiting in turn, for him to face her.

  When he finally did, she spoke over the sounds of Jarod being beaten by a sweeper, "Where exactly do we keep Cousin It these days?"

<~>

  Angelo watched the footage Sydney was playing through the tiny gap between his fingers, that were busy trying to shelter him from the worst of the vision he was seeing, "Jarod lost... want Sydney... want Zoë..."

  "Is Jarod hurt?" Sydney spun the chair around so that Angelo was facing him once more, "Is Jarod lying Angelo?"

  Angelo nodded his head, "Hurt."

  Sydney watched as Angelo subconsciously rested his hand on his heart, "Angelo, is Jarod lying to Mr Lyle?"

  Miss Parker sat on the leather lounge blowing smoke rings in a blatant attempt at appearing disinterested, though her eyes were adiently flittering back and fourth between the psychiatrist and the empath.

  Broots on the other hand, was openly pacing the office, unashamedly hanging off every word exchanged between Sydney and Angelo.

  "Please Angelo. Is Jarod lying?" Sydney repeated, doing his best to keep his voice calm, though he was obviously anything but.

  Angelo glanced back over his shoulder at the frozen image of Jarod on the screen, "Jarod tired... Not care..."

  Sydney crouched down in front of Angelo, pleading for something more, anything that could re-instate his previously unwavering faith in Jarod.

  "Gemini hidden... Secret... Jarod not lie..."

  Sydney smiled up at Angelo, "Thank you."

  "Thank you?" Miss Parker absently flicked her cigarette into the empty ashtray on the coffee table, "He didn't even tell you about the photographs..." She stood up and approached Angelo in a matter just about as unthreatening as a cyclone, "Did Jarod send those photo's Angelo?"

  Angelo sank into her desk chair as far as he possibly could, "Jarod sad... Confused... Miss Parker angry..."

  Sydney stepped between Angelo and Miss Parker, guiding her misdirected rage away from the empath, "Jarod doesn't understand why you would be angry with him Parker. You saw how confused he was when Lyle told him that you wanted to kill his family... He didn't send those photos and he doesn't know where Gemini is. If we don't stop Lyle, he's going to do some serious damage..."

  "Really? You think I'm that reckless?" Lyle straightened his tie as he leant against Parker's now wide-open door, "And you've got yourself a petting zoo..." He smiled malevolently at Angelo, who'd positioned himself safely behind an equally afraid Broots. "I take it, It's here because you've seen the DSA...?"

  "Jarod doesn't know where Gemini is, Lyle." Sydney stepped forward, a mildly threatening gesture that was prevented from amounting to anything serious by Miss Parker's well-placed arm, a strategical move designed specifically to block his path.

  She smiled at Lyle, a smile that showed no particular emotion or intention, but in turn said more than words ever could, "But he knows exactly how to find him..."

  Lyle grinned, "My point precisely."

  "And you want my help in obtaining that information?" Parker crossed her arms gently, lifting an eyebrow in her twin's direction.

  "Well, you're not just a pretty face..."

  Parker decided to ignore that comment, instead feigning indifference akin to that of which Jarod had demonstrated towards her earlier, "I already know what's in it for you, what's in it for us?" She could be one hell of an actress when she so chose.

  Lyle matched his sister's stance, a rare show of equivalence rather than condescendence, "If we have them both in our possession, whatever you want..."

  "...And ‘them,' what happens to Jarod and the clone...?"

  Lyle gestured towards Sydney, "The pretender program resumes and given that our star captives cooperate, life at the Centre goes back to the good old days..."

  "And if Gemini can't be found?" Sydney stepped passed Miss Parker, no longer able to hold his silence.

  Lyle smiled, "Jarod remains as he is. Stuck in Limbo without a shoulder to cry on."

  Miss Parker nodded her head thoughtfully, "We're in."

  Lyle grinned at Sydney, whose anger was visibly building by the second. Even Broots had to admit that Sydney's usual stoically resolute appearance had been replaced by a look of anger and umbrage.

  As he turned to leave, Parker added a condition to their agreement, "...But you say nothing about Zoë to Jarod ever again... Cox and Raines included..."

  Lyle's ears rose with the smile on his face as he continued out, "It's a deal... But only you have clearance to see Jarod... The circus stays put."

  Sydney watched furiously as Parker closed her office doors behind her twin, leaning against the heavy wood to ensure they got no more surprise visits, "We've got a clone to catch."

  "Jarod will never forgive you Parker..." Sydney's eyes had turned somber, his words spoken flatly.

  She sighed in return, "He won't have to."

  Broots's jaw fell open, "But you just agreed to turn Gemini in..."

  "That's what Franken-sibling believes."

  "So we're not going to turn Gemini in...?" Broots was confused. Lost completely amongst Parker's sudden twists and turns.

  "Gemini already knows. The kid's a genius for crying out loud... I just bought myself a few hours to try and work out just which masochistic scumbag around here, is hell-bent on turning me into their little pawn."

  Broots nodded in understanding, despite the fact that he clearly didn't follow, "...So where does Gemini fit in...?"

  Miss Parker shrugged her shoulders, "With a bit of luck the major's taken Jarod's family underground."

  Sydney watched her out of the corner of his eye, "You've crossed a dangerous line Parker..."

  "That line was crossed for me days ago. I'm just blurring the boundaries."

  "And how do you propose that you find tout who is behind this, given that secrets around here are guarded with lives...?" He placed his hands in his pocket, a poor attempt at disguising the depths of his concern.

  "I figured I'd start with the resident evil, work my way back from there."

  "You're going after your father?" Broots whispered, leaving Angelo's side for the first time since Lyle's unscheduled appearance.

  Parker grinned, "Daddy's always had a habit of showing up at pivotal moments in Centre history and I don't know about you, but I can't imagine anyone else with more to hide than everyone's favourite cradle-snatching, skydiving, scroll stealing..."

  Sydney sighed, "Mr Parker isn't known for his disclosure. What makes you think that he'll give you anything other than more questions?"

  "Exactly why I got Lyle off my case Pavlov. I need time to work that one out." She stepped aside and opened her office doors, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find out how we get Megan, to give up Morag."

  Broots motioned toward the open doors looking to Sydney for an explanation.

  "...Miss Parker was referring to Jarod and Gemini as a pair of sheep..." Sydney replied impassively.

  "Oh."  Broots led the way out of Miss Parker's office, followed closely by Sydney and Angelo. He may not have gotten the sheep reference but he was the first to get the hint to leave. Besides, he for one did not want to be around for the showdown between the chairman and his daughter... or niece...

<~>

Chapter 6. I'll never tell.

  "Mr Parker is in a meeting..." A young blond receptionist chorused in dismay as Miss Parker made another whirlwind appearance and rapid disappearance through her boss's doors.

 ‘At least Mr Parker was yet to reprimand me for his daughter's last unannounced appearance,' she thought to herself as she resumed her position behind the desk, trying to convince herself not to listen to the heated debate that begun brewing shortly after Miss Parker's entrance and to look as busy as humanly possible in the meantime.

<~>

  Miss Parker almost burst into the chairman's office and was a little taken back by the meeting that was evidently in place without her knowledge. All five men present set their eyes firmly upon Miss Parker's steely gaze, but it was Raines, standing next to Mr Parker, who broke their silence, "You were not invited Miss Parker..."

  Mr Parker cut him short, "Angel, Lyle told me you agreed to head the search for Jarod's clone..."

  Miss Parker limited her gaze to that of her brother's, "News travels fast."

  "That it does." Came Lyle's unnerved response from where he sat in front the Chairman.

  Mr Cox seated to Lyle's left, calmly folded his hands across his lap, watching the twin's exchange with interest, "Is there something we can help you with Miss Parker?"

  "I'm sure I can think of something." Her reply was spoken flatly, her cocky expression rather vibrant and telling.

  Lyle returned his sister's conceited smile with one of his own, "We were just finishing up."  He gathered a series of files from Mr Parker and awaited his three colleagues to stand and make their way to the door. The third man to follow Lyle, being someone to whom, Miss Parker had been spared an introduction.

  "Thank you Gentlemen." Mr Parker dismissed the party with an air of royalty, before warmly gesturing to Miss Parker to sit.

  She declined, "I need an answer."

  "Most people have the courtesy to ask a question before they demand an answer, Angel. You know better than that."

  "My decency is not in question..."

  Mr Parker straightened his silk tie, his daughter successfully commanding his full attention. He replied with a heavy sigh, "...I'm listening..."

  Parker walked forward and dropped a plastic evidence bag on his desk, before folding her arms defensively across her stomach, "What do you know about this?"

  Mr Parker glanced at the photograph, a fleeting look of pure hatred crossing his eyes before he returned his daughter's gaze, "Where did you get this?"

  "In the mail. What do you know about it?"

  "That whoever dares cross my daughter had better hope to be dead before I get through with them..."

  Miss Parker picked up the plastic with caution and replaced it to its previous secure position in her coat pocket, her eyes never leaving her father's.

  "...Consider this matter resolved, Angel. There's no point distracting you from the hunt for the boy over such trivial matters..."

  She turned to leave without further response but was beckoned back, "If you let these things get to you, you know what will happen. You're a Parker. Parker's don't let other's stand in their way..."

  Miss Parker sighed to herself, how could he consider such a thing to be insignificant? Then again, considering what she'd recently discovered about her family's legacy, she seriously doubted that she was a Parker, not that the alternative was even remotely tolerable.

 Mr Parker continued, "...You know what they say about water under the bridge..."

<~>

  Broot's dragged his feet slowly along the linoleum floors of the SL-5 corridors, having resigned himself to retuning to the tech room to look for something that could distract him long enough for either Sydney or Miss Parker to come looking for him. Assuming they were still alive, that was.

  Sitting in the familiar swivel chair that he seemed to spend the majority of his nights figuratively attached to, Broots logged into his computer terminal under the pretence of reading some of the emails that were currently clogging his inbox. Having just settled into a good system of ranking the replies he would have to answer by the day's end, Broots positively jumped out of his skin at the sound of the ringing office phone. Glancing around to see if anyone had noticed his little episode, he quickly realised that he was the only one around and fumbled to answer the incoming call.

  "...T..Ttech support... "

  "Broots? Is that you?"

  Broots struggled to place the young but familiar sounding female voice on the other end of the line, "Y-yess."

  "Oh thank God! I was worried that maybe I'd get someone... Never mind... How are you? I need your help. Big time..."

   "...Ok..." Broots rubbed his forehead in thought.

  "It's me Cameron. Did I forget to mention that? Maybe I forget to mention that. It's just that I think I might have made a mistake, a big mistake, only I can't make anymore mistakes because Mr Cox has already yelled at me today and I didn't even know who Mr Cox was, but he told me that if I made another mistake that my career here was as good as stuffed. And what does that even mean, anyway? I'm so confused..."

  Broots smiled. He'd had quite the crush on the new intern down in reception and had found himself on many an occasion, making unnecessary trips to the lobby just to see her smile. Very recently they'd begun exchanging ‘hi's' and ‘bye's' in the foyer, so for her to call him out of the blue like this was quite an honour, "W...Wwhat happened?"

  "Well, this guy just came in and he said that he had an appointment today, so I checked his visitor's pass and then looked it up on the computer but couldn't find anything. Then he told me that he'd spoken to me on the phone twice before when his appointment got changed but I still couldn't find him in the system..." her voice dropped even lower than before, "I think I might have deleted his appointment. B-by accident!"

  "What kind of appointment was it?" Broots asked expertly balancing the phone with his shoulder and chin, as he brought up the appointment making software.

  "It was a job interview."

  "Which department?"

  "Psychology."

  "Who was the appointment with?" Broots stopped typing so as not to disrupt her response.

  "It's supposed to be with your friend, Sydney."

  "..."

  "Broots? Broots are you there? Did I delete it? What should I do?"

  "I... I'm on my way to meet Sydney now... Why don't I stop by the lobby and take..."

  "...Cameron... Cameron Charles..."

  "Why don't I take Mr Charles too? Then no-one will have to know about the mix up." Broots smiled to himself at his ‘night in shining armour' response. Perhaps all these years working for Miss Parker had finally paid off...

  "Would you? Would you do that for me?"

  "I'm on my way." Broots replaced the phone and straightened up his scruffy jacket using the refection from his computer monitor, before making his way to the elevators.

<~>

  Miss Parker left the chairman's office and stalked off to find the remaining members of her team, unsure of what to make of her father's response, though it was certainly not the first time he'd left her feeling alienated.

  Arriving at Sydney's office, she opened the door unannounced, and was surprised to see that it was empty. Shaking her head and muttering to herself as she left for the elevators once more, Miss Parker figured the shrink must have been getting Broots to try and crack the security feed on Jarod from the terminals in the Tech support offices on SL-5.

  It wasn't until she'd received a room full of SL-5 gawky stares, none of which she recognized as belonging to her team, that Miss Parker resigned herself to checking her own office.

  As she opened her office doors, Miss Parker was slightly taken back by the sight of Mr Parker sitting behind her desk, "Any news on the clone?"

  "Not since you told me about water under the bridge ten minutes ago..." She folded her arms across her deep plum coloured satin blouse, tossing her black designer coat across her leather lounge. She wasn't used to seeing him so frequently.

  Mr Parker smiled, "Well I can't have my angel getting hurt."

  Miss Parker nodded, "I guess not."

  "Vested interest you see."

  "I do." She remained beside the door, feeling oddly out of place in her own office.

  "Asking questions only makes waves, you see..."

  "And waves make water deeper..." Came a sarcastic reply that was evidently missed by the man still proposing to be her father.

  "If you let the water get deep enough..."

  "It will drown me." She approached her desk, retrieving a small metal thimble, "I was listening."

  He smiled again, "That's my girl." He stood to leave, glancing at the thimble in her hand, "...I can have a tailor sent..."

  She smiled to herself, placing the thimble back on her desk. He didn't remember. "It's Jarod's," She lied, "Sydney seems to think it has a connection to his clone..."

  "And what do you think?"

  "That it's a thimble."

  As abruptly as their awkward conversation had begun, Miss Parker's phone began to ring. Screening the caller's identity before she answered, she ensured that her eyes never left her father's.

  Mr Parker nodded to himself as she spoke confidently to the caller, satisfied that she was no longer on a tirade for answers to questions that she shouldn't know and was successfully back on the task of finding Jarod's clone.

<~>

  Telling himself repeatedly that he could muster the courage to speak to Cameron in person, Broots approached the reception desk and sighed with partial relief, partial disappointment, that Cameron was already occupied on the phone, leaving one of the more experienced receptionists to take his enquiry.

  "What can I do for you today Mr Broots?"

  Broots smiled nervously at Cameron, who returned the frazzled gesture, before glancing up at the older woman, "I've been asked to collect a Mr Charles for an interview with the department of psychology."

  The receptionist raised an eyebrow, "But you're from tech support..."

  Broots hid his shaking hands behind his back, noticeably unaccustomed to lying and certainly not to lying twice in the one day, "Sydney asked if I could escort Mr Charles through on my way to meet Miss Parker."

  Not having entirely bought the mumbling technician's story, though not wanting to be personally responsible for delaying the chairman's daughter, she pointed vaguely at a blond man dressed neatly in a beige business suit across the lobby, "Mr Charles is over there..."

  Broots smiled nervously, "Thanks for your help."

  As he neared the black leather chair that Mr Charles was sitting on, he began to sweat and hastened his approach.

  Once he was well inside voice range, Broots was met with a polite, "Are you from the psychology department?"

  "Are you crazy?" Broots hissed, taking Mr Charles's elbow as he stood and directing him towards an out-of-sight janitor's closet, aware that he was being watched rather closely from reception, "Do you have any idea...?" Pulling Mr Charles in behind him, Broots barricaded them both inside the tiny space and pulled out his phone, "Please, please, please pick-up!" he muttered as Sydney's phone simultaneously begun to ring, "Why me?"

<~>

  Sydney glanced at his ringing phone before rejecting the incoming call and returning it to his pocket, resuming his verbal boxing match with Lyle, "...All you have proven is that Jarod's mind is rather fragile... You haven't even come close to gaining his trust... He'll kill himself before he gives you anything of use..."

  Lyle smiled at the frozen image of Jarod in the infirmary on his monitor, "Jarod has unrestricted access to medical attention around the clock. If he tries to harm himself, which even for him would be damn near impossible, we've got people who can fix him up in seconds..."

  Sydney sighed with pent-up rage, "Are you familiar with the term ‘suicide by cop,' because Jarod is, and so far he's doing a fine job of seeing to it that you are the one responsible for his death!"

Lyle chuckled, "Even if I do kill him, he's got a whole team on stand-by to bring him back to life. There's absolutely no reason why you should be permitted to see him..."

<~>

  Broots kicked the stonewall hard and flinched with pain at his now sharply throbbing big toe, as he dialled the second person he'd call to save his life. Praying that she would answer, with a slightly increasing desperation since Sydney had failed him.

  "What?" Miss Parker sounded odd and it took Broots a second to react.

  "...Miss Parker...?"

  "You called me. Now what do you want?"

  "We've got a... a situation..."

  "Deal with it. I'm busy."

  "...It's not that kind of situation..."

  "Well what kind of situation is it?"

  Broots lowered his voice to barely a whisper, "...The kind I can't tell you on the phone..."

  "...You have...? Well why didn't you just say so!"

  Broots furrowed his eyebrows, "Miss Parker...? I just did... It's..."

  "...Well I guess I'd better come and see this hadn't I...?" she interrupted.

  "Ok... Ok but we're locked in the janitor's closet in the lobby... I don't know how you'll... Without..."

  "Where did you find it?"

  "What...? Miss Parker are you ok...? You're not making sense..."

  "I have a quick appointment to make and then I'll be in your office."

  Broots watched the pale blue screen of his phone fade to black after she abruptly cut him off, "We're doomed," He muttered between hyperventilations, leaning against the door in the now pitch black closet, "I should have been an architect... Architects don't risk their lives every time they answer a phone call... What are they going to put on my tombstone?  Likes to play chess and tetras...? I haven't even left a legacy...!"

<~>

 Miss Parker stood outside Jarod's infirmary for the third time that day and watched with a crooked smile as he counted artifacts in the concrete ceiling, the two sweepers accompanying him, oblivious to his occupation. Taking a deep breath, she scanned her hand and entered the room, "What did you get up to?"

  "16,785."

  The sweepers looked to her for an explanation but she ignored them, perching herself on the spare bed next to Jarod instead. He motioned to prop himself up, but quickly found the restraints too short.

  "Bet you're sore now... Any chance you've re-considered?" Miss Parker crossed her legs neatly, overlooking the sweeper's stares.

  Jarod resumed staring at the ceiling.

  "I've seen the tapes Jarod. I know what they're prepared to do to get an answer out of you... But I also know it's an answer you don't have..."

  Jarod turned his head to face her, staring deep into her eyes. They weren't the same eyes he'd been confronted with on either of her earlier visits. Something had again changed. Dramatically.

  "...You don't know where he is, do you Jarod...?"

  Jarod smiled faintly, "Not a clue."

  Parker returned his smile, "But you do know how to contact him..."

  The smile on Jarod's face faded, "Not anymore..."

  "And what's that supposed to mean?" Parker folded her arms across her chest, her smile fading synchronously.

  "We had a deal. I broke it. He's gone."

  "Nice try. I want more of an answer than that Egg Head."

  "It's the truth Miss Parker. If he didn't hear from me by Wednesday..." he paused, "...Which I'm guessing that on account of your expression was a while ago, he'd drop off the radar completely... I couldn't tell you where he is if I wanted to..."

  "Well how were you supposed to contact him Monkey Boy?"

  "Computers may not be your forte Miss Parker, but there is an amazing online world out there..."

  Miss Parker got up and leant right in Jarod's face, incidentally obscuring it from the cameras, "Do you remember when we were kids and you asked me what my name was...? I want an email account Jarod." She leant back so as not to draw any extra attention from the sweepers or worse still, the monsters that would be watching the monitors, "Make it snappy. I'm pressed for time."

  Jarod watched her eyes carefully, "I remember."

  "Well...?"

  Jarod grinned, remembering the extent of that earlier conversation fondly. He could almost feel her soft smooth hands cupping his ear and her sweet smelling hair bushing against his cheek as he revisited those three words... No other words were in existence that could describe her better...

 I'll never tell.

<~>

 

Chapter 7. The Situation.

  Miss Parker arrived at Broot's SL-5 office, expecting a nervous welcoming parade put on by her one-man technical crusader. Instead, she found an empty room that smelt distinctly like stale donuts and cheap coffee and was inhabited by the incessant drone of 30 state of the art computer systems and a matching 30 incandescent light globes.

  Retrieving her phone with all the precision of a woman scorned, she hit number 2 on her speed dial, biting her lip to quell the all-encompassing compulsion to put a bullet through each and every light source in the room. Her brief encounter with Jarod, having been less than fruitful and her father's sudden hands-on interest in the pursuit of Gemini, successfully shattering whatever reserved patients she once possessed.

  Without giving Broots a chance to speak, she began their conversation, "Where are you?" Her question was delivered as a demand, rather than an inquiry or request.

  "Mm...Miss Parker... Where are you...?"

  "I am in your office Dilbert and you had better have one hell of a good reason as to why you are not..."

  Broots let his intense fear whisper for him, not even aware of her fleeting reference to his favourite cartoon character, "I...I'm locked in the janitors closet in the lobby... I told you before..."

  "You told me that we had a situation. It had better not be you locked in a closet, because as far as I'm concerned..."

  Broots dared interrupt her, "Yyy...You better get down here Miss Parker... If anyone finds..."

  Miss Parker sighed impatiently, "I get it Broots... Come find you and unlock the door..." She begun the short stalk back to the elevators, "You mentioned ‘we,' I'm guessing your ‘closet friend' would not be a particularly welcome guest..."

  "Quite the opposite," he scoffed without restraint, before continuing in his usual stuttered ranting, "Pp...Please hurry... If we get caught..."

  "Keep your pants on. I didn't survive for this long around here without learning a trick or two." She hung up the phone, pressing the elevator's ascend button continually until the doors shut behind her, a small smile biting at the corners of her mouth with the memory of a devious childhood discovery that was about to resurrect its rebellious self.

<~>

  Sydney studied the bare cinder-block walls that constituted the three solid walls of the less than welcoming cell he now occupied. Granted that he should be regretting his chosen course of action regarding Mr Lyle, all he could think about were all the times he'd let Jarod down and how he'd be damned if he was going to stand by and do nothing whilst Miss Parker saw to it that Lyle resumed his all-encompassing governance over the pretender. He'd had to do something, but a large part of him was glad that he only ended up in a holding cell rather than the unmarked grave he could have expected, had Lyle have not realised his compounding value in terms of Jarod's future...

  With all the grace of a falling tree, Sydney was thrust back to reality by the distant echoes of a fire alarm. Smiling absently at the loud crank of the fire door blocking all access to and from the nearly deserted sublevel, Sydney remembered the last time he'd been left on this side of a sealed fire door... A certain audacious brunette popping into mind...

<~>

  "But you promised! You told me that as soon as Jarod finished his work, that he could teach me origami!" A defiant young Miss Parker stomped her foot in frustration, her arms folded tightly across her chest, crushing her neatly ironed red dress. Her attire was that of a special occasion, not an origami lesson.

  "Jarod needs his rest Miss Parker... He can teach you origami another time..." Sydney was un-phased by her outburst, it striking him as nothing more than water off a duck's back. Though he saw the potential for the rage that fuelled her father, Sydney knew this little girl's temper was kept in check by the tranquillity inherited from her mother. Hence, he continued to gather the papers from Jarod's last sim without giving her tantrum a second thought.

  Miss Parker stomped again, "Is that your final answer?" Her sweet young voice had taken on a distinctly darker and all too familiar tone, causing Sydney to stop what he was doing and face her. The way she enunciated the word ‘final,' in particular, stole his attention.

  "I am sorry Miss Parker, but Jarod has to rest now..." Sydney picked up the manila folder he'd been compiling, "And I have work to do..." He offered her a saddened smile, searching her expression for the source of this particular outcry.

  Miss Parker smiled sweetly in return, her posture softening and her arms dropping back to her side. Her eyes however, emitted no fondness at all, "You're not sorry. But you will be." She turned on her heels and skipped out of the sim lab flicking her dress around with all the outward appearance of an innocent and happy little girl dressed for a party.

  Sydney stared after her bewildered, never had he seen such contempt emanating from those eyes. He made a mental note to consult Catherine about it later, before resuming the route to his office, Jarod's precious sim results in his hand.

  Sydney hadn't made it three steps down the corridor, before the fire alarm begun to sound. Quickening his pace to reach the stairwell before the sub-level was sealed and the sprinkler systems engaged, Sydney couldn't help but smile at his gross under-estimate of the resourcefulness of Miss Parker. She was after-all, her father's daughter...

  It wasn't until he reached the stairwell, just missing the lockdown in time to be positioned right underneath the sprinkler system when it engaged, did he make the mental note to never cross the chairman's daughter again. Not only had she ensured that he and all of Jarod's work were drenched and consequently, that Sydney would be paying the price for denying her permission to see Jarod, but she had also managed to get her origami lesson from Jarod.

 She was certainly not one to be taken lightly. That much was certain.

<~>

  In hind sight and had he have had the time, Sydney would have chased after the girl and found that the source of her anger was yet another failed appearance by her father, followed by an unfortunate encounter with Dr Raines... In fact, the more he thought about the incident, the more he would have encouraged the origami lesson and avoided all ensuing conflict...

  All of which, Sydney thought, was beside the immediate point. If anyone was behind this particular fire alarm, he would have been willing to bet an arm and a leg that it was at the hands of a very familiar brunette indeed. The really worrying thought however, was that Miss Parker very rarely, if ever, pulled the same trick twice. The fact that she would pull the fire alarm again, even all of these years later, told Sydney that there was still a lot more about this situation that she was yet to disclose. And that thought was genuinely terrifying by anyone's standards.

<~>

  At the sound of the deafening fire alarm, Broots began to panic even more about being trapped in the closet and it took all his strength not to begin pounding his fists against the door and alerting the lobby staff, who were currently occupied with evacuating the building.

  Breathing rapidly and to the point of near exhaustion, Broots prayed over and over that Miss Parker would hurry, nearly passing out in shock when a shadow came to a stop outside his dark and terribly enclosed prison.

  Opening the door rapidly, Miss Parker managed to knock a terrified Broots to the floor, exposing the full extent of the situation.

  For just under a second, Miss Parker was speechless.

  "For future reference Broots, a situation isn't 6ft tall and rounding out the Centre's most wanted list..." She tossed a set of shiny new handcuffs at Broots, who remained stunned on the floor where he'd fallen, concentrating hard on her words that were barely audible over the sounds of the sprinkler system and the evacuating stampede of employees, "...A situation is a mildly disturbing email or an appearance by the Centre's resident Ghoul... This..." She waved a flippant hand at the shadowed blonde figure's form, "This... is a disaster, a walking, talking, catastrophe... A pure cataclysmic inundation of all that is horrific..." she paused to regain her breath and more importantly, her composure. After all, it wasn't every day that she was genuinely speechless, let alone twice over the course of the week from Hell, "Get him to my office... And make sure you are not seen..."

<~>

  Without further word, Miss Parker calmly joined the frantic stream of employees evacuating the Tower and lobby and found herself a high-visibility position on the assembly point grass, from which to look incredibly irritated at being so inconvenienced. Inside her focus was being completely devoted to the task of maintaining her façade, more or less to stop herself from thinking about the figurative nuclear warhead that would now be en-route to her office...

  It was only a matter of minutes before she was joined by Mr Lyle, a not entirely unexpected event, "Enjoying the fresh air, Sis? I wouldn't have picked you for one to participate in evacuations..."

  She raised an eyebrow in response, "In ten minutes, the fire warden is an ex-employee..." not taking her eyes away from the building before her, she continued, "This is a joke." She gestured to the building, the stream of evacuating employees now a mass gathering of nervous but chatty individuals on the lawn, "There's no fire. I'm going back to my office." She motioned back towards the main entrance stairway but was prevented from going anywhere by a firm grip around her wrist.

  "Why are you in such a hurry?"

  With a sharp glare she shook Lyle's grasp free, "The sooner I get Jarod Junior, the sooner I get to leave this place." Her reply spoken through tightly clenched teeth.

  Lyle jogged to catch back up to her as she stalked away across the grass, "Speaking of which, any news on that front?"

  "I wouldn't know. Broots is probably wetting himself in the sealed tech room as we speak and Sydney hasn't been answering my calls for the last hour... But you wouldn't happen to know anything about this little charade or Sydney's disappearance, now would you...?"

  Lyle visibly suppressed a grin as he let his twin proceed up the stone stairs unaccompanied, "You should really keep them on a shorter leash... You can't lose someone if they're right next to you..."

  Parker smiled to herself as she walked back into the lobby, ignoring his supposedly taunting comments. The highly polished marble was now sopping wet on account of the sprinklers that were shedding but a few remaining drips, but Parker was more concerned about the fact that Lyle clearly had no clue who he was dealing with down in the newly refurbished bowels of SL-27. Jarod was more than just Houdini, Einstein and Mozart combined into one highly irritating package; he could make himself disappear; he was a modern day Batman, who had temporarily swapped his black leather for regulation scrubs. And judging by the most-unwelcome time bomb currently assembling itself within her office, it was only a matter of time before Lyle learnt just whom he was really up against.

<~>

  Lyle watched his sister disappear into the dripping wet lobby and pulled out his phone, calling the first number in his speed dial and waiting impatiently for his call to be answered, "So how did their little meeting transpire?"

  Mr Cox's eyes twinkled as he watched Jarod still restrained to the infirmary bed and doing all that was humanly possible to ease his boredom, from behind the one-way glass, "Jarod maintains his ignorance in the matter."

  "Do you believe him?" Lyle placed a weary hand in his pocket, keeping half an eye on a newly forming corporate gathering of interest, from where he was positioned on the lawn.

  "She does."

  Lyle watched distractedly as Mr Parker openly gesticulated a conversation between himself, Raines and Lyle's associate from before. He eyed the trio suspiciously, barely registering Cox's response, "Anything I should be aware of?"

  Mr Cox watched with great concern as Sam's attention dropped to his phone.

  All sweepers were prohibited from carrying any electronic devices in Jarod's presence but it was what Sam did next, that really caught Cox's attention.

<~>

  Pulling her phone from her pocket, Miss Parker keyed in a familiar number, pushing open the heavy fire door and exposing the concrete stairwell that could and would, take her up to her office, "I need to call in a solid you owe me, but I need you in my office yesterday. And don't worry about Lyle and Cox, all will be forgiven... Oh and Sam, bring a spare uniform and some extra restraints..."

<~>

  Answering his phone without so much as a single word, Sam listened to his mystery caller's instructions, though openly failing to respond in any sort of distinguishable manner other than to hang up upon the call's end.

 Shaking his head clear in disbelief, Cox's eyes drifted toward Jarod who was making no attempt to disguise his interest in this blatant disregard for protocol, before focusing back on Sam, just in time to catch him calling in a replacement.

  Considering Lyle's question with a fleeting regard, Cox informed his co-collaborator of the latest development, "...Sam just left his post..."

<~>

  "What was that? It sounded like you just said that Sam left his post...?" Lyle craned his neck further, straining to overhear the discussion taking place just a few inaudible feet away. The exclusion was visibly eating him from the inside out, though Cox having obviously regained a fraction of his attention.

  "He did... It seems as if he received a better offer..."

  Now Cox had Lyle's complete and un-divided attention, "When did he leave?" Lyle checked his watch carefully, glancing back toward the lobby, his sister having disappeared inside the building minutes ago.

  Cox checked the elevator surveillance from a monitor to his left, "Elevator's on SL-23 as we speak."

  "That scheming little witch..." Lyle hung up his phone and headed directly for the stairs. If his sister thought that she could poach valuable sweepers away from babysitting the Centre's greatest asset, then she had another thing coming...

<~>

Chapter 9. Ties that bind.

 

  Rubbing her temples exhaustedly, Miss Parker paused briefly outside her office. ‘Signed, sealed and delivered,' she muttered fishing her keys from her pocket, ‘You think you could've warned me on this one?' she asked of no one in particular, as her key met the lock. When she got no response, not that she was really expecting one; she proceeded to open the door just wide enough to accommodate her slight frame.

 

  Urging her hair to lay subtly over her shoulders with a negligibly quick shake of her head, Parker dismissed the continual nagging void left by her mothers absence and re-focused her attention on the more immediate concerns occupying her office. Slipping inside the dark room and flicking on the light, she leant against the doors without bothering to consciously examine her surroundings. "You can't be serious Broots... Maybe if I were deaf, blind and a complete moron, it wouldn't occur to me to look under my own desk."

 

  Broots stuck his head out sharply, looking distinctly akin to a flighty meerkat, "Umm...Miss Parker... I'm really not good at..." he clambered to his feet only to then sink back down into the office chair behind him, leaving her to fill in the blank.

 

  Miss Parker fought the urge to send Broots packing, with the comfort of knowing foremost, that he couldn't possibly make this situation any worse and secondly, albeit annoyingly, that Broots had probably played his hand to the best of his ability - and for that matter, anyone else who was unfortunate enough to be in his position.

 

 Choosing her words carefully, as always, she decided her token sarcasm wasn't wasted on this situation. "Yeah well, you're not alone there..." she muttered with the figure on the couch springing into mind to share the blame, the corner of her eye focused in his direction.

 

  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, unable to bear the sight of either of the two men that had made her office feel as if it were the suffocating, small and rather insecure structure of a walnut. Granted, the room carried the strong, dark and deeply organic décor of leather, polished timber and frosted glass that was analogous to a walnut's powerful, hard outer shell and thick fibrous husk. But deep at the room's core was an instability that was just waiting to shatter under the escalating pressure, not unlike Parker herself; especially considering her father's earlier presence had yet to be thoroughly examined. After his latest miraculous appearance from where, Parker dared not speculate; she was finding Mr. Parker's motives even more grey and vague than ever and she'd learnt from all the very best at the Centre, that grey and vague could be infinitely more dangerous than clear and evil. Furthermore, in her father's case, Mr. Parker seemed to be building an even bigger, thicker, more ambiguous shell around the already enigmatic nut he hid deep within his core.

 

  Broots rested his forehead on Parkers desk next to the handcuffs she had thrown to him in the closet earlier. In a muffled and slightly cracked voice, he uttered once again, "I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do."

 

   "I just hope you did it before anyone else found out." She stopped short at the thought of naming the particular ‘anyone else's' that came to mind, reminding herself that this mess wasn't entirely Broots' fault and for that matter, probably wasn't his fault at all.

 

  Parker slowly opened one eye, followed by the other and transfixed her gaze upon the man now occupying her couch. Seeing as Broots wasn't the real object of her frustration, her usual scapegoat had become the furthest thing on her mind. She was now ready to aim a barrage of questioning at his silent companion.

 

   "And you! What the hell were you thinking? Some psychic you are! You must have realized how incredibly idiotic that little stunt was.  Not to mention the fact that you look like a Swedish Elton John impersonator who found his suit in a dime store! What exactly did you hope to achieve? And if he can pick you out of a lobby full of people... My God what were you thinking?" Miss Parker's questions were purely rhetorical and if it wasn't already plain to see, it was quickly becoming clear to Broots that the two had a somewhat unspoken, yet emotionally laden, history.

 

   Elton John opened his mouth to mount a defense but was cut off before he could get a single word in.

 

  "...Don't answer that, I don't want to know. You've got five minutes to get as far away from here as possible. After that, I'd suggest you leave the country... I hear Antarctica's wonderful this time of year."

 

   Waiting until she finally took a second to catch her breath, Elton pulled the wig from his head and tossed it on the couch next to him. "I had no choice," he declared in a softly spoken yet decisive voice.

 

   Just those four little words were enough to get Miss Parker revved up again.

 

  "No choice! No choice? How about not coming here?  There are always choices.  How about staying as far away from the Centre as is humanly possible? How about not getting all of us killed in the process?" Her hands had found their way to her hips, her steely eyes deeply penetrating his for a moment, as she maintained the familiar Parker ‘power stance.'

 

  "Perhaps it's not us that we should be worried about..." His tone was smooth, his demeanor calm and as such, unnerving; a fact that only seemed to ignite Parker even further.

 

  Most people would have found this tone soothing. To Parker however, it came as an arduous reminder that her brother was also Jarod's brother.

 

  "Yeah well, after this little stunt, I don't think we'll have to worry about Jarod anymore."

 

  "This isn't about Jarod."

 

  "Everything's about Jarod. Always has been, and always will be." Parker stoically folded her arms across her chest, her eyes piercingly resolute. 

 

  Elton met her glare with his own enduring sense of tacit resolve. "This isn't."  

 

  Watching their vaguely familiar exchange as intently as only someone with the somewhat assigned, thought admittedly preferred, invisibility of a fly on the wall could; Broots found his attention diverted from an equal Ethan-Parker exchange, to being focused solely on Parkers' lack of sarcastic retorts. Just recently, he'd learnt to judge the extent of a bad situation based on the words that his boss didn't say, rather than those she did. So naturally, his brain was working in overdrive at the sheer notion that Parker didn't even attempt to insist on having the last word.  After all, that was a liberty she only ever awarded to her father and more recently, didn't demand from Jarod. Though, Broots dismissed even her most valiantly failed attempts as more of a ‘trying to touch the stars by standing on a footstool,' type battle that could never be won, when it came to Jarod.  The annoying habitual phone tactic of how he ended conversations always ensured he'd have the last word. 

 

  Mid-way through his latest thoughts, it occurred to Broots that Sydney would have an absolute field day analyzing this short but rather telling exchange between the half-siblings.  Broots felt his stomach sinking deep into the recesses of his stomach, as his posture unconsciously straightened. It took him a second to register the root cause of what was actually nothing more than a normal physiological response. Yet, Broots froze to the core when he noticed that Miss Parker was looking directly at him, mouthing the distinct words ‘we've got company.'

 

<~>

 

  Sam approached her office casually. He was so used to dropping whatever it was he was doing; he had even come to appreciate the way Miss Parker carried out her precise brand of business that this particular corridor held none of the ‘death row' connotations it held for his colleagues. Besides, going cross-country with Parker was infinitely more exciting than the strictly hands-off babysitting of Jarod tied to a gurney that he would have otherwise been forced to endure.  And given their history, Sam had to admit to himself that he did rather enjoy the hands-on approach when it came to Jarod.

 

  Knocking rather eloquently on the heavy timber, Sam waited for the familiar "What?" that would signify his permission to enter her inner sanctum and his unwavering dedication to her cause. This time however, he was met with a sharply opened door and completely diminished personal space.

  Without words she pulled him inside her office, before leaning firmly against the doors to ensure their abrupt and secure closure.

 

<~>

 

  Upon hearing Broots' familiar gasp, Miss Parker turned to face the sweeper, only to see Sam's gun pointed squarely between the eyes of the instantly recognizable figure occupying her couch.

 

  "If I wanted trigger happy I'd have called in the big black bozo. What I need is protection while we sort this whole mess out." Parker directed his gun to the floor, in which case it was immediately holstered and replaced by the restraints and uniform she'd requested. "So, I need to know upfront. Are your loyalties with me?"

 

  Sam nodded a voiceless confirmation and took up her position in front of the door, relieving Parker to openly pace the carpet.  Her eyes swung back to the couch, she paused and then resumed her seemingly one-sided discussion with her half-brother. "Well Elton, if this isn't about Jarod, then you sure as Hell better start explaining just why it is that you decided it was a good idea to show your face around here." 

 

<~>

 

  Lyle waited impatiently for the tower elevator to reach the lobby, tapping his shoe in frustration. After Cox's phone call, he could no longer write off his sister's haste as her just being her. No, she was definitely up to something.  He'd be damned if he was going to be kept out of that loop, especially if she was going to pinch on-duty sweepers out from right under his nose. And he was certainly not about to let her ruin his chances with the Triumvirate. Regardless of the integral role she may have had in Jarod's return, at the rate she was going, she was a threat he just wasn't prepared for. Sure, he had the stuffy old shrink locked away, but he was no longer certain that Freud's safe return to Jarod was enough to get Parker on side.

 

  Glaring disgustedly at the nervous janitorial staff desperately trying to avoid all eye contact, while they mopped up the debris from what Lyle was now beginning to suspect was a deliberate diversion. Lyle retrieved his phone and for the third time, tried dialling Sam's number. 

 

<~>

 

  Elton stared at his shoes, "She's quieter... here, you know?"

 

  "Most people are." Parker finally let her eyes fall away from his and found a carpet thread, that sat ever-so-slightly lower than the rest of the pile, to focus her attention on, during the uncomfortable silence.  Finally, while maintaining a reserved manner, she broke the silence by cautiously uttering, "You disappeared."   

 

 "I re-appeared," he whispered, not entirely unlike their shared relative.

 

  Although Broots was taken aback and openly let out a deep breath, she responded somewhat tenderly. "You really should have called."

 

  "I had to come..."

 

  "But why here?" Her tone changed to the child-like whine of the ‘but why?' variety. "What if Raines---?" Her eyes had found their way back to her brother's, failing to notice the pain in his voice that radiated through his troubled gaze.

  She honestly couldn't consider the repercussions if Raines, rather than Broots, had been the one to discover Ethan.

 

 Ethan offered her a weak, goofy smile in return. "My Swedish Elton John wasn't good enough?"

 

  Parker re-folded her arms across her stomach, her tone softening slightly. "No."

 

  Ethan sighed in return. "I hadn't heard from Jarod. Then she told me I had to stop things from getting any worse. That I had to help you." Ethan watched her pupils dilate at the second mentioning of their mother, only to shrink away behind her ice queen façade once more.

 

  "And you thought you'd do that by coming here? Of all places?"

 

  "She can be very insistent, when you're in trouble."

 

  Parker shook her head and resumed pacing. "What makes you think I'm in trouble?"

 

  Ethan glanced quickly at Broots, who'd taken it upon himself to begin scouring the security footage from the lobby on Parker's computer. "It could have something to do with the fact that you haven't slept in a week; you haven't noticed the mascara smudge under your left eye lashes and that you can't even look at yourself in a mirror."  Ethan lowered his voice to barely a whisper and continued. "You put her portrait in your drawer last night..." 

 

  "Nice try." She scoffed and offered him an empty smile, before turning her back in his direction. "But I'm fine. You on the other hand, need to mind your own business."

 

"Sure you're fine. But may I suggest the next time you try convincing someone else, that it might pay for you to believe it yourself." Ethan watched the slight fall of her shoulders. Though lasting only a fraction of a second, it was the tell-tale give-away that there was a chip in her armour.

 

  Taking a second to regain every ounce of her fallen composure, Parker turned back to face her brother as if nothing had happened. "You said this visit wasn't about Jarod. Are you expecting me to believe that it's just about me?"

 

  Ethan shifted uncomfortably for the first time since he'd sat down on Parkers couch earlier. "It's not really about Jarod. But it may as well be." It was his turn now to study the carpet. "It's about Jay." 

 

  Broots stopped typing without realising, giving himself and his eavesdropping ways in, through the virtue of another extended and unnerving silence. 

 

 Miss Parker eventually turned to face Broots. "Of course it is..."

 

  Broots sheepishly avoided eye contact, "Miss Parker, um, now might not be the best time, but...um, well..."

 

 "Spit it out Broots. What else could possibly go wrong now?"

 

"Actually...uh, Mr Lyle's on his way up here"

 

 "Perfect!"

 

"Miss Parker?" Broots studied her expression carefully, unsure as to whether or not she understood the significance of what he'd just said.

 

 "Just when I thought this was all a bad dream, he decides to turn it into a nightmare."

 

  Broots examined his palm as if it were encrusted with precious stones, this was the part he was most dreading. "What about Jay?"

 

  "Franken-twin is on his way here. Ethan, rounding up number two on the Centre's most wanted list and the brother I just happen to share with Jarod is here sitting on my couch... And you want me to worry about Jarod's clone? I'm good Broots, but not that good."  

 

 Broots took a deep breath and envisioned her 9mm pointed squarely between his eyes. "No Miss Parker... He's here."

 

 For the first time since he'd taken up post at the door, Miss Parker re-acknowledged her sweeper's presence. "Sam, no one gets in until I say so..."

 

 Broots cut her off, dropping his former hesitation. "Not Lyle, Jay. Jay's already here!"

 

"WHAT?"

 

"So I guess this makes it a night terror..." Ethan raised an eyebrow in her direction, only to receive her trademark glare in return.

 

  Parker could have sworn that she caught the makings of an all too familiar smirk cross his face, but dismissed it out of denial rather than with any contrary evidence. This was Ethan she was talking to after all. "Who's got him? When did they get him? Where the HELL are they? And why didn't you tell me earlier?"  Without even giving him a moment to take a breath, she continued. "Don't just sit there, I need answers. Now."

 

  Ethan waited to catch her gaze, "You think I'd be sitting here if I had those answers?"

 

Parker rolled her eyes. Ethan had been spending way too much time with Jarod as far as she was concerned.  She shifted her attention and ordered her co-worker and friend,  "Broots...   Angelo!    NOW!"

 

 "But where will you go, Miss Parker?" Broots stood from her chair watching as she approached the doors.

 

"With you Broots. You," she said while pointing back towards her brother, almost daring him to defy her. "You are to stay put until we can get this sorted out.

 

 

<~>

 

  "Someone's in a hurry..." Lyle strategically placed himself at the end of the corridor, right in front of the elevator, smiling sarcastically at his sister and her nervous little lap dog.

 

  "I'm busy but if you're bored and want to play, I'd recommend you go pay a visit to daddy dearest. I'm sure he could find something for you to do." Miss Parker pushed Broots past her brother and into the empty lift, following him at a slightly uncomfortable distance.

 

  "Actually, I came to offer you my services. Seeing as you're intent on stealing my sweepers and all." Lyle boarded after them, folding his arms with a smile as he took up position behind Parker and Broots as the elevator began its short descent to SL-5.

 

  "Your sweepers? You shouldn't start something you can't finish Lyle. Besides, I already asked about your involvement in Sydney's disappearance. So unless you've changed your mind and do know where he is, I'd suggest you run along and do whatever it is that you do around here."

 

  The second the elevator doors opened, Miss Parker pulled Broots out by the collar of his bowling shirt and thrust him across the freshly polished floors. They headed down the fluorescently lit corridor that would take them to the tech room. She could have sworn Lyle called something after them, but so long as he stayed in the elevator, she couldn't care less what it was.

 

<~> 

 

  Lyle watched intently from the elevator as Parker and Broots descended down the corridor toward the tech room. "I could be quite the valuable asset Parker," he called after her, not expecting a reaction but rather offering himself a window of opportunity for later.

 

  Admiring his plan and ever so slightly the sound of his own voice, Lyle pressed the button for the elevator doors to close, suddenly cringing at the deep baritone voice approaching the elevator.

 

  "...Ahh... Just the man I was hoping to see... Now tell me Lyle, how long until Jarod is ready to go?"

 

  Lyle turned to face Mr. Parker, who was midway through escorting his associates to the elevator. He was caught off guard but didn't dare let it show. "Do you still think that's the wisest move? The Africans were... less than pleased with the whole scrolls disaster. What's to say they won't just kill him?" Lyle held the door begrudgingly for the party of three, finding himself next to Mr. Parker by the time the doors closed.

 

  Mr. Parker patted him on the shoulder awkwardly. "That's not for us to speculate upon..."

 

  Lyle discretely shook him off. "Surely Jarod is of a much greater value here. Alive..."

 

  "Mr. Parker thinks otherwise." Raines re-assumed his putative position of corporate strength next to the chairman, taking it upon himself to summon the correct floor, ironically, as any lackey would.

 

  "Well in that case, I'll see what I can do about expediting proceedings." Lyle waited in the elevator, whilst the three other men exited the lift and made their way into the lobby, a false smile plastered across his cheeks, a deep loathing filling his mind.

 

  "Good - Oh and Lyle, where's your sister?" Mr. Parker turned and reached out to prevent the elevator's closure.

 

   Lyle offered him a cheap smile. "Following a lead on Gemini."

 

   "Excellent - I suppose Sydney is with her?"

 

  That remark drew his attention, effectively stopping Lyle's desire for the elevator to descend. "He wasn't when I last saw her..."

 

  "If you happen to come across him, would you escort him to my office? It's important."

 

  "I'll see what I can do." Lyle cursed himself as the doors closed. It was times like this that he needed the kind of loyalty Parker had in her minions.

 

<~>

 

  When Miss Parker finally let go of his collar and he was convinced that Lyle was no longer their most imminent threat, Broots dared ask the question that had been plaguing him for the last minute and a half. "Sydney's disappeared?"

 

  "No, he's right next to you Broots."

 

  Broots fumbled with his clearance card. "...And you think that Mr. Lyle is involved?"

 

  "No. I know he's involved." Miss Parker reached past Broots and opened the door with her own card, offering him a sarcastically eclipsed smile as he ducked past her, into the tech room. After all, what kind moron couldn't open the door to his own office?

 

  "Well, what are we going to do?"

 

  Miss Parker entered behind him, resisting the temptation to leave Broots to find Angelo whilst she personally began the hunt for Gemini. "Nothing. So long as there are no more unexpected surprises, Lyle will have to release him unharmed."

 

  "You have a plan?" Broots stared up at her, his eyes leaving the computer screen before him for just a second. Hoping beyond hope, that maybe, just maybe, she did have this mess figured out.

 

  Miss Parker smiled. "Oh I always have a plan."

 

<~>