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Chapter or Story
Part 6 – Pianissimo
Miss Parker pushed open the door of Sydney's room and peered inside. She found the psychiatrist sitting up in bed, staring out of the window and into the fog that was still surrounding the house.
"Morning, Syd."
He turned to her with a half-smile on his face. "It would seem that you were both awake early this morning."
"You were listening."
"I could hardly help hearing." His voice contained a hint of amusement, which dropped away as he spoke the next sentence. "Is he all right?"
She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I think so." She paused. "I hope so. But I'm not sure." She sighed heavily. "I don't even understand exactly what it was that made him react like that, and that's what concerns me."
"He's worried."
She raised an eyebrow. "I've got news for you. He's not the only one. Broots is dead and the rest of us are on the hit list. That should give all of us grounds for being worried, I would say."
"But just put yourself in his position..."
"Hey, I thought that was my specialty!" The deep voice from the doorway made both occupants jump and Miss Parker turned to see Jarod standing there with the baby in his arms.
"Good morning, Jarod." Sydney spoke calmly to his protégée as though they had not been talking about him when he walked in and Jarod grinned as he strolled over to the bed.
"How are you this morning?"
"Probably better for not trying to walk around the room," Miss Parker cut in with a somewhat vindictive smile on her lips.
"Very possibly," Sydney responded, still in that calm tone of voice as he looked from Miss Parker to Jarod. "But I will be even better if I can get up today."
Jarod tilted his head on one side and looked thoughtful while the baby tugged on his hair. "We-ell, I'm not sure. Another day wouldn't hurt..."
"For heaven's sake, Jarod, that fog isn't going to break for any decent length of time for days. If we're waiting for that to happen, we could be waiting for ever!" Miss Parker spoke in a tone of some asperity. With an infuriating grin, he sat down on the end of the bed.
"You should be thankful for it. That fog is what's keeping the Centre away from us. If it wasn't for that, they would have a much better chance of finding us."
"And what are we going to do when they do?"
The question came out before Miss Parker could stop it and Jarod tried to grin again, although his face was more serious.
"That's why I came up here. I want us all down in the living room for a few hours to discuss a plan of action. It will happen - we know it - so we may as well be prepared."
"And that means...?" The psychiatrist was unable to hide the eagerness in his voice as he looked up. Jarod laughed aloud as he handed the baby to Miss Parker and, standing up, turned to face Sydney and held out his hand.
Major Charles stoked the fire and looked over to check that there was enough wood on the woodpile beside the door. He could always send one of his sons - he now felt as though he had four living ones, including the baby - out to get more but he wanted to avoid it if it were at all possible. The weather was too horrible for anybody to be out in it more than they had to be, the fog having made an early reappearance that morning.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Miss Parker come down the stairs with the baby in her arms and then his son following, supporting Sydney as he came down also. Charles stepped over and, between the two of them, they got the psychiatrist seated opposite the fire. Jarod tucked a blanket around his legs and checked that the injured arm was in the most comfortable position before moving over to sit beside his sister. With a grin, she turned and whispered in his ear.
"Care to revise your statements of the other night?"
He grinned. "I didn't make any, so there's nothing to revise. You made the assumptions that I neither denied nor admitted."
"You should be a lawyer," she grumbled under her breath.
"I have been. It's highly overrated - along with just about everything else."
"Son, are we ready to start?"
Jarod looked up to find Major Charles grinning at him. "Sure thing."
"And are you conducting this or am I?"
"Oh, you go ahead. Head of the family and all, you know." It was with difficulty that Jarod prevented himself from glancing over at Sydney while he said this.
"Right." Major Charles cleared his throat. "We've all heard about the situation as it stands and know roughly - or exactly - how much danger we're all in. Thus, we have several options. First, we can stay here until they come, in which case it has to be truthfully admitted that we'll probably all be dead as a result."
Jarod glanced over to see Miss Parker shudder and nodded slightly, feeling the same way himself.
"Our second option is to think short-term only. We've all - or many of us - been successfully on the run from them for some time and their best tracking team is now among of us, so we could possibly stay free for a while. A little while."
Sydney glanced over at Miss Parker as they were referred to and smiled at her in sympathy.
"Or we can look at it in the longer term. We know enough, among all of us, to bring even an empire like the Centre to their knees, if we wanted to. It would only be a matter of careful organization." He looked around the room. "Now, I would assume that option one would probably be the least popular, and I can't say that option two strikes any kind of chord in me. Which really only leaves us with one possibility."
Jarod nodded and stood up to join his father. "I know that the thought of going up against the Centre is probably pretty concerning for most of us and I can't really say I'm dying to get started either, but I think it's necessary. Do we have any dissenters?"
He looked around at each person and saw the same expressions on every face that could probably be seen on his own. Turning to his father, he nodded once. "I think we have agreement. We go against the Centre and bring it down."
"And how?"
The voice belonged to the youngest of the vocal group that were now refugees, but all recognized the sense in the question. It was one that they were all asking themselves.
"That, as the Danish Prince so well put it, is the question. Luckily, the elements appear to be working with us - this fog seems like it's going to hang around for some time yet. That will give us a definite advantage. We can work out our own plans while keeping an eye on what the Centre itself is up to." Major Charles walked over to the window and pulled open the curtain that he had shut to block out the dreary day, standing and staring out into the half-light while the others silently watched with him.
"Do you think it's possible to destroy the Centre?"
Emily turned and watched Miss Parker as she asked the question, the two of them putting the baby to bed as the sparse light of day faded.
"I don't know." Miss Parker slipped the tiny suit onto the body of the baby and zipped it up at the back, laying the child in his crib. "But we can only try. And I'd rather die trying than live in fear, always running from them."
Emily nodded slowly and then turned and faced the woman, her eyes large and dark in a pale face. "I'm scared."
Miss Parker came over and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Want to know something? So am I." This first confession came much more easily than it would have, had she been forced to make it to Jarod or one of the others. "And I would bet that the others are, too. Still, we have to try."
Jarod awoke that night as soon as she called out. There was a sense of panic in her voice and he rolled over and gathered her in his arms, shaking her firmly to wake her. "Parker? Parker!"
"No, no!" Her voice was a cry and he couldn't help shuddering at the sheer desperation and anguish in it.
"Parker, wake up!"
The final shake brought her into full consciousness and she jumped and then clung to him, the memory of the dream too painful to be escaped from all at once.
"What was it, Parker?" He brushed the sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes and held her close as she trembled.
"The... accident. I saw the accident again. When Broots..." Her voice broke, unable to continue.
"I know, Parker." He stroked the back of her head lovingly. "I know." He held her close to him, wondering, not for the first time, how an organization could kill just to protect itself.
Still unable to sleep after being woken by Parker's nightmare, although she had dropped off again soon after, Jarod walked down into the kitchen to try to find something to occupy his mind. A can of Dr Pepper in his hand, he walked over to the kitchen table, flipped open the computer and entered the password. After waiting for A few seconds until the key word was accepted, he opened a program and began to skim through the information that appeared on the screen.
"You have a video call," his computer announced.
Jarod looked around the room to ensure that he was alone before turning the volume right down and then activating the message. For a moment he stared at the face on the screen in shock before it spoke.
"Hello, Jarod."
The Pretender opened and closed his mouth several times without saying anything. He eyed the sticking plaster that covered a wound on the man's head and the dark shadows under his eyes.
"B...Broots?"
The man nodded slowly.
"You're dead!"
"Not last time I checked."
"Where are you?" Jarod started up from his chair and, remembering to keep his voice low, once more checked that the room was empty.
"Somewhere safe, for the moment. But I need your help. It's Debbie." A note of panic came into the technician's voice. "She's really sick and I don't know what to do!"
"What happened? Parker said you were in a car accident..."
"We were, but not the one she thought. The Centre was behind it all - you know that as well as I do. Somehow, though, they attacked the wrong car: same make, same model, same color but not us. I know that Miss Parker followed us out of the Centre but when I heard the explosion and looked back, she wasn't there. I was afraid that it might have been her and drove back, where I saw it all. I left the area as fast as possible in case they realized their mistake but they got us later. We were rammed by one of the sedans, but managed to get away, despite the damage they did to the car."
A look of mistrust appeared on Jarod's face and he sat back in the chair with his arms folded. "How do I know I can believe you?"
The pleading expression reappeared on Broots' face. "I guess you don't, not really. But you know what I sent you - all that information. They know, too, or they wouldn't have tried to kill me...us. If I were in the Centre, I'd either be dead or in Renewal Wing. You know that, Jarod."
The Pretender nodded slowly. "All right, Mr Broots, I'll come and meet you. If I still trust you then, I'll help. If not, I presume I'll find myself back in the Centre - for the time being, anyway."
"I have one more piece of possible proof."
"Bring it. Tell me where you are and I'll meet you there."
As the technician finished speaking, Jarod scribbled down the address and then cut the connection, writing a note for the others and leaving it and an open computer file on the table as he grabbed his jacket and left the house.
"Where's Jarod?"
"I don't know." Major Charles looked up as Miss Parker entered the kitchen, a satin gown draped around her body and a look of concern on her face. "He was gone when I came down this morning. But he left a note."
Miss Parker scooped up the piece of paper and let her eyes travel over the few words it contained. "He's gone back to the Centre!"
When Major Charles turned, Miss Parker could see the worry that was written on his face. "That's what I thought, too. But what I can't work out is why he would."
She snapped her fingers and stared up at him. "Angelo! He must have gone back to save Angelo!"
"That was also my first assumption, but this file was open this morning when I came downstairs. Look at it."
Miss Parker pulled the computer towards her and Major Charles leaned over her shoulder, opening the file to show her. His nearness reminded her of his son and she trembled briefly as she wondered if she would ever see him again.
"And where is the empath?"
"Uh, we don't know, sir. He disappeared on the same day that the others did. It's unknown how he got out of the Centre, or..."
"Fool!" Miss Parker could recognize the sharp tones of her father, despite the fact that he was standing out of the camera's view. "It doesn't matter to me how he got out! But we have to find him, and soon. The Pretender has a fond affection for that creep and we can use him to lure Jarod back. And once we have Jarod, it will be easy to get the others. It is imperative that we find them..."
Shutting the computer, Jarod's father looked at her. "So you see, Miss Parker, I don't think he went to the Centre. I just wish I knew where he had gone..." Major Charles trailed off and stared at a point above her head, the expression of worry on his face deepening.
Jarod pulled the car into the parking lot and lowered his sunglasses a notch as he looked around. After the fog that surrounded the house for more than twenty miles, the fine weather had come as something of a shock to his eyes but had been quickly rectified. He quickly scanned the area, having driven several times around the block to check for familiar figures or cars, relieved not to have seen any. Cautiously he got out of the car and approached the entrance of the shopping mall.
"Mr Broots?"
"Jarod!" The expression of relief was unmistakable and the man was transparent enough that Jarod knew he would never have been able to hide his nervousness had there been Centre operatives around. "Thank you so much for trusting me."
"Where's this other proof?"
"In my car."
The two made their way towards the vehicle that the technician pointed out and Jarod noticed that he was limping badly.
"From the accident?"
"Yeah. I don't know exactly what I did, but it hurts like crazy."
"If I still trust you at the end of this, I'll check it out." Jarod stopped at the car, the tinted windows of which prevented him from looking in. Broots opened the door and a figure jumped out and threw himself at Jarod.
"Angelo!" The Pretender closed his arms around the empath and listened to the words that were whispered into his ear before he straightened up. "All right, Mr Broots, I'll help you. Grab your stuff. We'll take my car."
They pulled into the driveway of a house and Broots led the way around the back to a shed. He pulled open the door and put up the blind, allowing early morning light to shine in through the window and onto the bed that sat in the corner. He stepped over to the bed and gently picked up the hand of the girl that lay there.
"Debbie?"
She opened her eyes and focused on him with difficulty. "Daddy?"
"Yes, precious. It's me." He gently and lovingly stroked her hair. "I brought someone to help us." He stepped back and let the Pretender take his place.
"Hi, Debbie. My name's Jarod." He smiled as he bent down closer to the bed, the state of the little girl having been even more convincing to him than Angelo's whispered statement. "I'm going to try and make you feel better."
"Hi, Jarod." Her voice was a faint whisper and she tried to smile. He picked up her wrist and checked her pulse while looking her over with what Broots felt was a very professional eye.
"What is it?"
Jarod shook his head, concentrating until he saw that the girl had drowsed off to sleep again. Getting up, he took the technician's arm and drew him away to the corner of the shed.
"She's got a very high fever but I can't tell much else at this stage. Where in the car was she sitting?"
"In the back seat, on the passenger side. The sedan hit right on that door and she was thrown over to the far side of the car, despite the seat belt."
Jarod's mouth narrowed to a straight line as he considered the possibilities and watched the emotion work on Broots' face.
"Can you help? Please?"
Jarod nodded. "I'll do everything I can - but not here. I don't want her to have to travel, but we don't have a choice." He met the technician's eye. "I won't lie to you, Mr Broots. Her condition looks very serious. Would you be willing to let me operate, if it was required?"
"Yes... anything..." His voice trailed away as he looked over at his daughter.
"Then we need to get ready to go."
"Parker?"
"Jarod! Jarod, where are you?" She jumped up from the chair and met the eye of Major Charles as he sat opposite her.
"On the way back to the house. Don't worry, Parker. I'm fine."
"What happened?"
"Unexpected stop." He glanced back in the rear view mirror to where Broots sat, his daughter's head in his lap, and then to where Angelo sat next to him. "We'll be there soon. Is Dad there?"
She handed the phone over and immediately began impatiently pacing the length of the room, trying to keep her concern under wraps.
"You want what, son? Two more rooms? And one set up as what?" He reached over and grabbed a notepad, writing several things down before capping the pen again. "I'll do everything I can. The fog's still thick here, Jarod. Be careful."
"I will, Dad. See you soon." Jarod disconnected the call and passed the phone back to Angelo, who shoved it into one of several bags of things that they had stopped to buy on the way.
"Is everything okay?"
Jarod nodded. "There's a lot of fog on the road, though, so we'll have to drive a little slower."
"And you didn't tell them...?"
Looking in the rear-view mirror again, Jarod caught Broots' eye. "Miss Parker still hasn't gotten over the fact that she thought she saw you die. If I told her on the phone that you were still alive, I couldn't even begin to imagine what her reaction would be. Besides," a grin creased his features, "it'll be a nice surprise." And, he added silently to himself, her reaction might distract you from your daughter for long enough for me to work out what's really wrong with her.
Half an hour later they pulled into the driveway and Jarod stopped the car right in front of the door. He put the bag in Angelo's hand and looked him in the eye.
"Can you take care of this for me until I need it?"
The empath nodded, his face serious, and clutched the bag with both hands while Jarod undid the seatbelt that had been holding him in place. Getting out of the car, he opened the rear door and swung the unconscious body of the little girl up into her arms, hoping wordlessly that it wouldn't do any more damage than the accident had already caused. Broots was beside him in a moment.
"Where are we?"
"Somewhere safe. Very safe."
Jarod led the way up the steps and had Angelo open the door. The group was gathered around the fireplace. He walked in among them, but his appearance was nothing to that of the man who entered behind him.
"B... Broots?"
Miss Parker slowly rose from her chair and only the blanket tucked tightly around his legs prevented Sydney from doing the same.
"Miss Parker..." His voice trailed away as he stood there, looking helpless for a few seconds before she ran forward and, to his eternal amazement, hugged him. Meanwhile Jarod caught Steven's eye and the two left the room, the Pretender carrying the girl into the room that Steven showed Jarod had been set up as the operating room he had earlier requested.
"What happened?"
"Car accident." Jarod spoke shortly as he removed the outer clothing and began a more thorough investigation of the little girl. "She was thrown when the car was hit from the side at full speed."
He saw that his clone was thinking through the same possibilities in his mind Jarod had earlier considered and, despite the seriousness of the situation, it was an effort for him to keep a straight face as he noted the similarities to himself.
"No leg or arm injury, except for bruising and slight lacerations. It's all the torso and possibly the head."
As he finished speaking, the girl opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"Hi, Debbie." He smiled at her. "It's Jarod."
"Where's...?"
"Your Daddy's downstairs. I just want to check you over and then you can see him, okay?"
She nodded faintly and he used the movement to check visually for unbalanced behaviour, relieved to find none and permitting himself to take that as a sign that there was no damage to the head.
"Debbie, is there anywhere that hurts more?"
"My tummy."
"Where?"
"All over."
Jarod nodded. "Okay, Debbie. Just relax. You're going to be fine."
She gave him a tiny smile and closed her eyes.
"What is it?" The whisper from the boy was almost inaudible. "Internal injuries?"
"Internal bleeding, I suspect. It'll be a matter of finding the source."
He met the eyes of the boy standing on the other side of the bed and could see the tension that was reflected in his own.
"I'll go and tell her father."
