Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 30
"Freedom is always and exclusively freedom for the one who thinks differently."
Rosa Luxemburg
Understanding
Jarod recovered enough to join the others as they dropped into the room from the air vent, however just the sight of Raines on the floor came close to setting him off again. Only Sydney's intervention was enough to stop him.
"For heavens sake, will you calm down?"
"But it was so exquisite, didn't you see?"
For a moment Sydney smiled broadly. "Of course I saw, but we have things to do."
"You're right."
Jarod moved over and, with Sam’s help, picked up Lyle, who he then dumped into the large laundry-bin, which they had found outside the building and which had only just fitted into the vents, but which would be perfect for their purpose. All three unconscious figures were dumped into it, leaving room for the fourth figure which was preceded into the room by the figures of Miss Parker and Catherine, still wiping the tears of amusement from their eyes at the scene they had, through Jarod and Angelo, witnessed.
Mr Parker was loaded in with the others and the group proceeded merrily out of the office and down the hall. As Jarod and Catherine had surmised, the Centre was empty from a combination of the holiday weekend and the early hour. The nine individuals walked down the hall and into the lift.
"SL-19," Jarod called cheerfully as he was pressed between the back wall of the lift and the large container.
However there was silence until the lift reached the relevant floor. Only Jarod and Broots refrained from pulling out weapons as the doors opened and the group spread out to protect the two men who were pushing the bin along the hall, its well-oiled wheels running silently along the concrete floor.
Finally, they reached a heavily barred door and Catherine pulled out a ring of keys, which she used to unlock the door. Jarod reached in and, with Sam's help, pulled the first figure out and carried him over to the corner of the sparse cell. The man was left on the bed, still breathing heavily from the drug that Jarod had designed to remain effective for up to four hours.
The doors were closed and locked after the two men had exited the room. Then the procedure was completed three more times. As the last door was fastened on the prisoner, Jarod turned to his helpers and grinned.
"Well, shall we begin?" He turned to Broots. "You probably know Raines' office best. I think you've been in it more than the rest of us."
The technician rolled his eyes and laughed. "Well, for once, I don't mind."
Jarod watched as the last information appeared on the screen and sadly shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. The information that had been discovered in the hours since the raid had sobered the entire group and showed what could have occurred, had the leadership not been removed. Lists of deals appeared under the skilled hands of both Jarod and Broots, information that would have resulted in hundreds of deaths in an attempt to create a perfect race. Sydney, in particular, had been understandably devastated by the find.
"They never learn from history."
"They never learn from anything," Jarod reminded him gently. "Or anyone. But don't worry, Sydney. This isn't going ahead and nothing that the Centre does from now on will be dangerous or damaging. You will be one of the people seeing to that."
Jarod reached over and, with one finger, deleted the masses of information that had sat on the screen, leaving only the blinking cursor and the pile of printouts on the desk.
The room was almost completely dark, except for one strip of light that was directed to a single chair. Just visible some distance away was the outline of a long table and silhouettes of heads could also be faintly seen. In the distance, the jingling of chains could be faintly heard, a sound that grew louder as the atmosphere in the room grew tenser.
Finally a door opened and rapidly shut, casting only a second of light onto the group on the far side. The time was not long enough for the struggling woman to see the seven people who sat along its length and waited for her.
"Who are you?" The voice was harsh and almost a scream as the figure, chains around her ankles joined to those around her neck and wrists making a loud racket as they were fastened tightly to anchor points on the chair. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"
"No. That is incorrect." The deep voice startled the woman, whose mouth fell open. "We will ask the questions. You will answer them."
The woman broke into pitiful whimpering, a sound which was halted suddenly by a familiar voice.
"Come on, Bridget!" the woman’s voice mocked. "You enjoy T-Board investigations. Being on the other side of the glass, you know."
"As you once put it so well, Miss Parker," a soft, accented voice spoke out of the darkness, "it all works out well, if you're on the other side of the glass."
The group broke into restrained laughter and the woman shrank down in the chair. "What do you want with me?"
"Didn't you hear what the Chairman said to you before? We ask the questions now!"
Brigitte’s eyes were wide with terror. "Chairman? Raines? Lyle? Who?"
The laughter at this point was louder than ever before and, at a mental signal from Jarod, the lights were turned on and the terrified woman was faced with the people from whom she knew she would get no pity or assistance.
Two hours later, the faux-Brit could do nothing but gibber. The questioning had not been particularly harsh but a fear of her future, or lack of it, was terrifying her. Despite all of her preparations for ensuring her continuing safety, this was one option that she had never considered. Angelo had tapped into her deepest thoughts and feelings and had shared them with the other members of his group, providing them with the ability to ask questions which related not only to her actions but to her very emotions.
"So, what should be done with this woman?" A few moments of silence had prompted this question and then group all spent several minutes visually examining the shrinking woman.
"I think we should see what her fellow-conspirators come up with. Then we can make a decision for them all together."
"Good idea! Sam," the sweeper came forward on the direction, "return Bridget to her room, and prepare the next person for their...session."
