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Chapter or Story
Legal disclaimer and distribution notice in Part 1
Copyright 2000 by R. Franke
LAVENDER
Part IV
by R. Franke
"I see. Yes. Thank you very much." Jarod hung up the telephone as he and Angelo watched the paddy wagon pull away from the Centre. "I can’t believe she would make a mistake like…" Angelo looked at Jarod as his voice trailed off. "How would you describe Miss Parker, Angelo?"
"Bossy," Angelo replied.
Jarod smiled. "Yes, bossy. Also stubborn, arrogant, opinionated, vain, and hotheaded. But would you describe her as stupid?"
Angelo shook his head emphatically. "No."
"Neither would I," Jarod answered, his smile widening into a grin. "Neither would I."
"I appreciate your Excellency’s assistance in this matter," Mutumbo rumbled as the limousine pulled away from the Blue Cove police department. "My superiors will be most disturbed at this evidence of malfeasance in our subsidiary. I must return to the consulate and contact them."
"I fear that will not be possible," the ambassador replied, handing over the large envelope containing Mutumbo’s passport and other personnel effects. "On the recommendation of their Federal Bureau of Investigation, the American State Department has revoked your visa and declared you persona non grata."
Mutumbo was silent for a moment. "Will we be stopping by my hotel?"
"Your people have already been informed," the ambassador answered. "We will be met at Dulles International."
"Of course," Mutumbo murmured.
"Our apologies for the inconvenience, Mr. Broots," the desk sergeant said. "If you wish an officer will take you to your home."
"M-my car’s at the Centre. Do you think it would be possible for the officer to take me there instead?"
"Yes, but if I were you I wouldn’t try to go inside."
Broots grinned nervously. "The police department doesn’t have an opening for a computer expert, do they?"
Oh my daughter, will you hate me when you learn the truth? It seemed so simple, so elegant a solution to all mankind’s problems. Geniuses who could do anything, be anybody. We chafed at the shortsighted restrictions placed on us and in our arrogance, our hubris, decided we knew better.
And now Jacob is dead, Sydney has retreated into his work, and sweet, helpful Bill is now that monster Raines. I refuse to call him Bill any longer. Raines has killed Bill.
Then there is my husband. Who is he? The tender, loving husband and father? The exciting, passionate lover? Or the ruthless, cold-eyed manipulator he shows the Triumvirate? When we’re alone, does he take off his mask, or put one on?
And finally, me. Catherine Jamison-Parker. The Conscience of the Centre. Deceiver. Betrayer. Hypocrite. Coward. God will have to dig a tenth circle in Hell, just for me.
"Enter," Miss Parker called, closing her mother’s journal.
"This was left at the front desk for you, ma’am." Agent Kassebaum placed an envelope on Parker’s desk. "I’m afraid we had to open it."
"I understand." Parker tilted the envelope and her mother’s square silver ring slid out into her palm. There was nothing else in the envelope. "Did anyone see who delivered this?" she asked coolly.
"No, ma’am," Kassebaum replied. "It just appeared."
"Why am I not surprised? Thank you, Agent, that’ll be all." Kassebaum nodded and left. Miss Parker felt a hand come down on her right shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. She patted it without looking. "Thank you, my friend." Angelo smiled sadly.
"Jarod Darrow, I’m here as the good doctor’s advocate." Jarod stuck out his hand.
"US Attorney Jack Lisle." He stood and shook Jarod’s hand. "Special Agent Santori," he continued, indicating the other man standing against the wall. "Darrow?"
"A distant relation," Jarod explained as he shook the agent’s hand. "If you don’t mind gentlemen, I’d like some time alone with my client."
"Of course," Lisle replied.
"Don’t worry, counselor," the agent spoke as he walked over to the door. "The good doctor hasn’t told us anything, not even his last name."
Sydney waited until the two men had left the room. "Jarod, what are you doing?"
"Acting as your attorney," Jarod replied calmly. "The others will have to find who they can. The Centre’s in-house legal team is also under arrest."
"Jarod," Sydney spoke sternly. "Do you have any idea what the repercussions of this will be? What will happen if the Centre is shut down and everything it has done is revealed to the world? People will panic."
"I think you underestimate them," Jarod replied. "Oh, some will panic at first, but eventually they’ll calm down and everybody will go back to their normal lives. And anyhow, who said the Centre is being shut down?" Sydney stared at him, open-mouthed. "If you’re interested, Broots was released an hour ago. And Mutumbo has been deported. His plane should be taking off in about fifteen minutes or so." Jarod smiled. "I’d hate to be him when it lands."
Sydney closed his mouth with a snap. "And Parker?"
Jarod’s smile widened. "What do you think?"
Sydney smiled in return. "I don’t believe it." He started to chuckle. "I just don’t believe it," he repeated as his chuckle broke into slightly hysterical laughter. "You and Parker? Mon Dieu, Catherine was right." Sydney sat up and wiped his eyes. "She said you two would make a formidable team. I just never thought I’d see it."
Jarod’s eyebrows rose. "She did? When?"
Sydney gave Jarod a long, considering look. "Perhaps it is time. There were five of us at the start, Jacob and myself, Mr. Parker, Raines, and of course Catherine. She was still Catherine Jamison then," he added parenthetically. "Five people with grandiose dreams for saving the world and barely enough money between us to rent a cramped little office and hire a part-time
secretary. We decided to call it the Centre." Sydney chuckled. "Actually, it was, I think, Catherine who came up with that name. We had spent the night drinking cheap wine and cheaper beer, trying to come up with a name for our new company. The next morning, that was the only name any of us could remember. All of us were living on a dream, eating beans and rice and staying just a half step ahead of our creditors. Raines actually married our secretary. We used to tease them. We said the only reason he did it was so we could get more work out of her."
"Teasing? Raines? I’m surprised any of you survived."
"Oh, no, Bill gave as good as he got. You would have liked him." Sydney chuckled again, then grew pensive. "Things were good. Then a man came to visit us. He claimed to represent a group called the Triumvirate. They had heard of our little company, and thought it would be a good financial investment. We never thought to ask what they would want in return."
"You’ve let your hair grow. I like it."
Miss Parker smiled. "Jarod." Her smile faded. "I heard about Zoë. I’m sorry. I wish-"
"There was nothing you could have done," Jarod interrupted. "It wouldn’t have changed anything, and it would have only exposed you for no good reason." He smiled wryly. "Besides which, I noticed some of the false leads Lyle and company followed hadn’t been planted by either Angelo or I."
Parker smiled sadly back at him. "I did what I could," she replied. Jarod nodded in acknowledgement. "Still," she continued, "you were there for me when Tommy died."
Jarod gestured towards the journal on her desk. "Your mother’s diary. You’ve read it?"
"Yes," Parker answered, accepting the change of subject. "It was interesting reading."
"Interesting?" Jarod’s eyebrows rose. "That’s a rather more restrained reaction than I expected."
"Oh, when I first read it I flung it across the room and damned you to Hell for a lying bastard, among other things."
Jarod smiled. "I wondered why my ears were burning. And then?"
Parker smiled back. "And then I read it again." Parker sighed as she stood and ran her fingers through her hair. "When I thought my mother had committed suicide, I was angry. I felt she had betrayed me. Not only me, but herself as well." She gave a short, rueful, laugh. "Part of me danced for joy when I found out she’d really been murdered." She came around the desk and stood in front of him. "I loved my mother, Jarod, but St. Catherine of the Centre never seemed realistic to me. Never seemed human." Her fingertips lightly brushed the diary. "Dr. Catherine Jamison-Parker does. She made some mistakes, and some bad decisions. Terrible decisions."
"And regretted them," Jarod replied, taking Parker’s hands in his. "And tried to correct them."
"And paid for them." She gently disengaged her hands and handed Jarod a folded newspaper. "As I will have to pay for mine."
"Kyoto Crime Lord, 11 Others Dead in Gangland Style Execution," Jarod read. "Tommy Tanaka?"
"Yes." She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. "Tommy and some of his associates saw how they were slowly losing power to Tower East Asia. Angelo got me some of the information you had squirreled away and I slipped some of it to him."
"You couldn’t have known this would happen, Parker."
"But I did." She smiled mirthlessly. "Oh, not this in particular. But I knew people would die, either Tommy’s people or Tower East Asia’s. I decided it was worth it if it would help distract the Triumvirate." She looked up at Jarod, and her eyes were bleak. "Who am I to decide how much people’s lives are worth in the grand scheme of things? To decide how many casualties are
acceptable losses?"
"And who am I to decide what is justice, and who should be punished?" Jarod answered, his eyes equally bleak. "We are who we were raised to be, the way the Centre designed us."
"You’ve read the files?"
"Yes. Angelo and I to analyze, and to judge, and to recommend the best course of action, Kyle, Lyle, and the rest to operate in the world, doing whatever had to be done-"
"And me to coordinate, and to organize, and to decide what is to be done and who should do it," Parker finished. "That still doesn’t answer my question, Jarod."
"I don’t think there is an answer," Jarod replied. "Unless you want somebody like Lyle running things."
Parker rolled her eyes. "Gee, wouldn’t that be nice." She hesitated, seeming almost afraid. "Jarod, I-" She stepped forward and caught him in a fierce embrace. "Thank you."
Jarod returned the embrace, equally fiercely. "I know," he murmured. "I know." They both stood, each quietly enjoying the other’s presence.
"So it appears the rumors were true."
Jarod and Parker sprang apart. "Cox," Parker spat out. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Miss Parker, ma’am, I’m sorry," gasped the receptionist. "He just walked right on past me. I told him to stop."
"It’s all right, Karen," Jarod answered. "We’ll handle it from here." Miss Parker nodded sharply in confirmation. "I’d like to know why you’re here as well," Jarod continued as Karen slipped out of the room.
"You must be Jarod," Mr. Cox handed Miss Parker a business card. "I am merely here to offer the two of you my services.
Miss Parker raised her eyebrow. "The only reason you’re still free is that we couldn’t gather enough evidence for an indictment in time." Cox nodded in reply. "So why," Miss Parker continued, "offer us your ‘services’, as you so delicately put it?"
"When I came here," Cox answered, "I dismissed you as unimportant. You owed your position to Daddy, and your only relevance was as a tool against him. Now you have gained not only control of the Centre, but independence from the Triumvirate as well, something your father was never able, or willing, to do. You have imprisoned your rivals, eliminated Tower North America as a viable entity for years, if not decades, and thrown the Triumvirate into complete disarray. In my business, you stay alive by siding with the winner." He paused, and smiled slightly. "I pride myself on the accuracy of my analyses of who will rise and who will fall. I obviously missed an important piece of data in my analysis of you."
"Here’s another piece of data for you," Miss Parker replied, handing the business card back. "The Centre will no longer be needing your kind of services."
"There will always be a need for my kind of services," Cox replied, replacing the business card in his pocket. "When that time comes, my father will be able to get a message to me." He bowed slightly and opened the door. "May I say that the two of you make a formidable team. And a lovely couple." He smiled slightly and slipped out the door.
"Debbie, wait. I need to make a quick stop."
"Daddy, please," wheedled Debbie, "can’t it wait? I really, really, really have to see her."
"I’ll just be a moment," Broots replied as he stepped into the men’s room. Debbie rolled her eyes with a huge, put-upon sigh as she bounced impatiently on her toes.
Jarod and Parker looked away from each other. "What about Sydney?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence.
"Lisle agreed to drop most of the charges in exchange for his testimony. He’ll have to do five to ten in a minimum security facility, and his medical license has been revoked."
"Better than I hoped. And the others?"
"Lisle made them similar offers. They all refused."
Parker’s mouth twisted in a wry grimace. "If there’s one thing the Centre is good at, it’s ensuring loyalty."
"Your father sent a message. ‘ Tell my daughter my redemption is now her responsibility. Tell her she must take care of them’?" he repeated questioningly.
Parker smiled slightly. "Follow me." She opened the door and walked out. "Karen, call Broots and tell him if he wants his job to- Karen?"
Jarod reached over and plucked the photograph from the receptionist’s unresisting hand. "I was just opening the mail," she said weakly as Parker’s cell phone rang. Jarod’s expression hardened as he scanned the picture. Wordlessly he handed it to Parker.
Her nostrils flared in anger when she saw it. Snatching the ringing cell phone from her belt, she barked, "What?" She listened for a bit, then snapped, "Let me tell you something you don’t know, Garrigan. Not only was the raid on Tower Europe a complete and utter balls-up, but I’ve got a photograph here showing the Centre’s European office. All the employees are in it, and every one of them is dead. Even the fucking janitor. Listen to me, Mr. Assistant Director of the FBI in Charge of Multi-National Criminal Investigations," she continued, her voice shaking with barely repressed fury. "I gave you and your Interpol cronies more information on the Triumvirate than you could gather in ten years. Hell, I practically handed you Tower North America and Tower Europe on a plate. The one thing, the only thing I asked was that you protect the Centre and its people. My people." She paused for a moment, listening. "You’re damned right there must have been a leak. Find it, while I try to keep the rest of my people alive." Parker closed the cell phone with a snap. She leaned forward on the desk, bracing herself on her outstretched hands. Her hair fell forward, covering her face.
"Parker?" Jarod asked, reaching out to grasp her arm. "Parker, look at me."
Parker’s head came up. "Call Corporate and call the computer boys. Tell them to eliminate anything and everything somebody could use to find out who works for the Centre. Payroll records, accounting, everything. I’ll deal with the IRS later. Call Security. Tell them to kick out everybody who’s not vital and send them home. They’re to stay low and try not to draw attention to themselves. If anybody wants to take a vacation, now would be an excellent time. After they’re gone, all Centre offices are in lockdown. No one in or out except on my direct order. The ones that have to stay, notify their families, tell them the same thing." Karen nodded and began dialing. Parker turned to Jarod. "I need your big brain Jarod, and I need it now. Are you with me?"
End Part 4
Copyright 2000 by R. Franke
Part IV
by R. Franke
"I see. Yes. Thank you very much." Jarod hung up the telephone as he and Angelo watched the paddy wagon pull away from the Centre. "I can’t believe she would make a mistake like…" Angelo looked at Jarod as his voice trailed off. "How would you describe Miss Parker, Angelo?"
"Bossy," Angelo replied.
Jarod smiled. "Yes, bossy. Also stubborn, arrogant, opinionated, vain, and hotheaded. But would you describe her as stupid?"
Angelo shook his head emphatically. "No."
"Neither would I," Jarod answered, his smile widening into a grin. "Neither would I."
"I appreciate your Excellency’s assistance in this matter," Mutumbo rumbled as the limousine pulled away from the Blue Cove police department. "My superiors will be most disturbed at this evidence of malfeasance in our subsidiary. I must return to the consulate and contact them."
"I fear that will not be possible," the ambassador replied, handing over the large envelope containing Mutumbo’s passport and other personnel effects. "On the recommendation of their Federal Bureau of Investigation, the American State Department has revoked your visa and declared you persona non grata."
Mutumbo was silent for a moment. "Will we be stopping by my hotel?"
"Your people have already been informed," the ambassador answered. "We will be met at Dulles International."
"Of course," Mutumbo murmured.
"Our apologies for the inconvenience, Mr. Broots," the desk sergeant said. "If you wish an officer will take you to your home."
"M-my car’s at the Centre. Do you think it would be possible for the officer to take me there instead?"
"Yes, but if I were you I wouldn’t try to go inside."
Broots grinned nervously. "The police department doesn’t have an opening for a computer expert, do they?"
Oh my daughter, will you hate me when you learn the truth? It seemed so simple, so elegant a solution to all mankind’s problems. Geniuses who could do anything, be anybody. We chafed at the shortsighted restrictions placed on us and in our arrogance, our hubris, decided we knew better.
And now Jacob is dead, Sydney has retreated into his work, and sweet, helpful Bill is now that monster Raines. I refuse to call him Bill any longer. Raines has killed Bill.
Then there is my husband. Who is he? The tender, loving husband and father? The exciting, passionate lover? Or the ruthless, cold-eyed manipulator he shows the Triumvirate? When we’re alone, does he take off his mask, or put one on?
And finally, me. Catherine Jamison-Parker. The Conscience of the Centre. Deceiver. Betrayer. Hypocrite. Coward. God will have to dig a tenth circle in Hell, just for me.
"Enter," Miss Parker called, closing her mother’s journal.
"This was left at the front desk for you, ma’am." Agent Kassebaum placed an envelope on Parker’s desk. "I’m afraid we had to open it."
"I understand." Parker tilted the envelope and her mother’s square silver ring slid out into her palm. There was nothing else in the envelope. "Did anyone see who delivered this?" she asked coolly.
"No, ma’am," Kassebaum replied. "It just appeared."
"Why am I not surprised? Thank you, Agent, that’ll be all." Kassebaum nodded and left. Miss Parker felt a hand come down on her right shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. She patted it without looking. "Thank you, my friend." Angelo smiled sadly.
"Jarod Darrow, I’m here as the good doctor’s advocate." Jarod stuck out his hand.
"US Attorney Jack Lisle." He stood and shook Jarod’s hand. "Special Agent Santori," he continued, indicating the other man standing against the wall. "Darrow?"
"A distant relation," Jarod explained as he shook the agent’s hand. "If you don’t mind gentlemen, I’d like some time alone with my client."
"Of course," Lisle replied.
"Don’t worry, counselor," the agent spoke as he walked over to the door. "The good doctor hasn’t told us anything, not even his last name."
Sydney waited until the two men had left the room. "Jarod, what are you doing?"
"Acting as your attorney," Jarod replied calmly. "The others will have to find who they can. The Centre’s in-house legal team is also under arrest."
"Jarod," Sydney spoke sternly. "Do you have any idea what the repercussions of this will be? What will happen if the Centre is shut down and everything it has done is revealed to the world? People will panic."
"I think you underestimate them," Jarod replied. "Oh, some will panic at first, but eventually they’ll calm down and everybody will go back to their normal lives. And anyhow, who said the Centre is being shut down?" Sydney stared at him, open-mouthed. "If you’re interested, Broots was released an hour ago. And Mutumbo has been deported. His plane should be taking off in about fifteen minutes or so." Jarod smiled. "I’d hate to be him when it lands."
Sydney closed his mouth with a snap. "And Parker?"
Jarod’s smile widened. "What do you think?"
Sydney smiled in return. "I don’t believe it." He started to chuckle. "I just don’t believe it," he repeated as his chuckle broke into slightly hysterical laughter. "You and Parker? Mon Dieu, Catherine was right." Sydney sat up and wiped his eyes. "She said you two would make a formidable team. I just never thought I’d see it."
Jarod’s eyebrows rose. "She did? When?"
Sydney gave Jarod a long, considering look. "Perhaps it is time. There were five of us at the start, Jacob and myself, Mr. Parker, Raines, and of course Catherine. She was still Catherine Jamison then," he added parenthetically. "Five people with grandiose dreams for saving the world and barely enough money between us to rent a cramped little office and hire a part-time
secretary. We decided to call it the Centre." Sydney chuckled. "Actually, it was, I think, Catherine who came up with that name. We had spent the night drinking cheap wine and cheaper beer, trying to come up with a name for our new company. The next morning, that was the only name any of us could remember. All of us were living on a dream, eating beans and rice and staying just a half step ahead of our creditors. Raines actually married our secretary. We used to tease them. We said the only reason he did it was so we could get more work out of her."
"Teasing? Raines? I’m surprised any of you survived."
"Oh, no, Bill gave as good as he got. You would have liked him." Sydney chuckled again, then grew pensive. "Things were good. Then a man came to visit us. He claimed to represent a group called the Triumvirate. They had heard of our little company, and thought it would be a good financial investment. We never thought to ask what they would want in return."
"You’ve let your hair grow. I like it."
Miss Parker smiled. "Jarod." Her smile faded. "I heard about Zoë. I’m sorry. I wish-"
"There was nothing you could have done," Jarod interrupted. "It wouldn’t have changed anything, and it would have only exposed you for no good reason." He smiled wryly. "Besides which, I noticed some of the false leads Lyle and company followed hadn’t been planted by either Angelo or I."
Parker smiled sadly back at him. "I did what I could," she replied. Jarod nodded in acknowledgement. "Still," she continued, "you were there for me when Tommy died."
Jarod gestured towards the journal on her desk. "Your mother’s diary. You’ve read it?"
"Yes," Parker answered, accepting the change of subject. "It was interesting reading."
"Interesting?" Jarod’s eyebrows rose. "That’s a rather more restrained reaction than I expected."
"Oh, when I first read it I flung it across the room and damned you to Hell for a lying bastard, among other things."
Jarod smiled. "I wondered why my ears were burning. And then?"
Parker smiled back. "And then I read it again." Parker sighed as she stood and ran her fingers through her hair. "When I thought my mother had committed suicide, I was angry. I felt she had betrayed me. Not only me, but herself as well." She gave a short, rueful, laugh. "Part of me danced for joy when I found out she’d really been murdered." She came around the desk and stood in front of him. "I loved my mother, Jarod, but St. Catherine of the Centre never seemed realistic to me. Never seemed human." Her fingertips lightly brushed the diary. "Dr. Catherine Jamison-Parker does. She made some mistakes, and some bad decisions. Terrible decisions."
"And regretted them," Jarod replied, taking Parker’s hands in his. "And tried to correct them."
"And paid for them." She gently disengaged her hands and handed Jarod a folded newspaper. "As I will have to pay for mine."
"Kyoto Crime Lord, 11 Others Dead in Gangland Style Execution," Jarod read. "Tommy Tanaka?"
"Yes." She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. "Tommy and some of his associates saw how they were slowly losing power to Tower East Asia. Angelo got me some of the information you had squirreled away and I slipped some of it to him."
"You couldn’t have known this would happen, Parker."
"But I did." She smiled mirthlessly. "Oh, not this in particular. But I knew people would die, either Tommy’s people or Tower East Asia’s. I decided it was worth it if it would help distract the Triumvirate." She looked up at Jarod, and her eyes were bleak. "Who am I to decide how much people’s lives are worth in the grand scheme of things? To decide how many casualties are
acceptable losses?"
"And who am I to decide what is justice, and who should be punished?" Jarod answered, his eyes equally bleak. "We are who we were raised to be, the way the Centre designed us."
"You’ve read the files?"
"Yes. Angelo and I to analyze, and to judge, and to recommend the best course of action, Kyle, Lyle, and the rest to operate in the world, doing whatever had to be done-"
"And me to coordinate, and to organize, and to decide what is to be done and who should do it," Parker finished. "That still doesn’t answer my question, Jarod."
"I don’t think there is an answer," Jarod replied. "Unless you want somebody like Lyle running things."
Parker rolled her eyes. "Gee, wouldn’t that be nice." She hesitated, seeming almost afraid. "Jarod, I-" She stepped forward and caught him in a fierce embrace. "Thank you."
Jarod returned the embrace, equally fiercely. "I know," he murmured. "I know." They both stood, each quietly enjoying the other’s presence.
"So it appears the rumors were true."
Jarod and Parker sprang apart. "Cox," Parker spat out. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Miss Parker, ma’am, I’m sorry," gasped the receptionist. "He just walked right on past me. I told him to stop."
"It’s all right, Karen," Jarod answered. "We’ll handle it from here." Miss Parker nodded sharply in confirmation. "I’d like to know why you’re here as well," Jarod continued as Karen slipped out of the room.
"You must be Jarod," Mr. Cox handed Miss Parker a business card. "I am merely here to offer the two of you my services.
Miss Parker raised her eyebrow. "The only reason you’re still free is that we couldn’t gather enough evidence for an indictment in time." Cox nodded in reply. "So why," Miss Parker continued, "offer us your ‘services’, as you so delicately put it?"
"When I came here," Cox answered, "I dismissed you as unimportant. You owed your position to Daddy, and your only relevance was as a tool against him. Now you have gained not only control of the Centre, but independence from the Triumvirate as well, something your father was never able, or willing, to do. You have imprisoned your rivals, eliminated Tower North America as a viable entity for years, if not decades, and thrown the Triumvirate into complete disarray. In my business, you stay alive by siding with the winner." He paused, and smiled slightly. "I pride myself on the accuracy of my analyses of who will rise and who will fall. I obviously missed an important piece of data in my analysis of you."
"Here’s another piece of data for you," Miss Parker replied, handing the business card back. "The Centre will no longer be needing your kind of services."
"There will always be a need for my kind of services," Cox replied, replacing the business card in his pocket. "When that time comes, my father will be able to get a message to me." He bowed slightly and opened the door. "May I say that the two of you make a formidable team. And a lovely couple." He smiled slightly and slipped out the door.
"Debbie, wait. I need to make a quick stop."
"Daddy, please," wheedled Debbie, "can’t it wait? I really, really, really have to see her."
"I’ll just be a moment," Broots replied as he stepped into the men’s room. Debbie rolled her eyes with a huge, put-upon sigh as she bounced impatiently on her toes.
Jarod and Parker looked away from each other. "What about Sydney?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence.
"Lisle agreed to drop most of the charges in exchange for his testimony. He’ll have to do five to ten in a minimum security facility, and his medical license has been revoked."
"Better than I hoped. And the others?"
"Lisle made them similar offers. They all refused."
Parker’s mouth twisted in a wry grimace. "If there’s one thing the Centre is good at, it’s ensuring loyalty."
"Your father sent a message. ‘ Tell my daughter my redemption is now her responsibility. Tell her she must take care of them’?" he repeated questioningly.
Parker smiled slightly. "Follow me." She opened the door and walked out. "Karen, call Broots and tell him if he wants his job to- Karen?"
Jarod reached over and plucked the photograph from the receptionist’s unresisting hand. "I was just opening the mail," she said weakly as Parker’s cell phone rang. Jarod’s expression hardened as he scanned the picture. Wordlessly he handed it to Parker.
Her nostrils flared in anger when she saw it. Snatching the ringing cell phone from her belt, she barked, "What?" She listened for a bit, then snapped, "Let me tell you something you don’t know, Garrigan. Not only was the raid on Tower Europe a complete and utter balls-up, but I’ve got a photograph here showing the Centre’s European office. All the employees are in it, and every one of them is dead. Even the fucking janitor. Listen to me, Mr. Assistant Director of the FBI in Charge of Multi-National Criminal Investigations," she continued, her voice shaking with barely repressed fury. "I gave you and your Interpol cronies more information on the Triumvirate than you could gather in ten years. Hell, I practically handed you Tower North America and Tower Europe on a plate. The one thing, the only thing I asked was that you protect the Centre and its people. My people." She paused for a moment, listening. "You’re damned right there must have been a leak. Find it, while I try to keep the rest of my people alive." Parker closed the cell phone with a snap. She leaned forward on the desk, bracing herself on her outstretched hands. Her hair fell forward, covering her face.
"Parker?" Jarod asked, reaching out to grasp her arm. "Parker, look at me."
Parker’s head came up. "Call Corporate and call the computer boys. Tell them to eliminate anything and everything somebody could use to find out who works for the Centre. Payroll records, accounting, everything. I’ll deal with the IRS later. Call Security. Tell them to kick out everybody who’s not vital and send them home. They’re to stay low and try not to draw attention to themselves. If anybody wants to take a vacation, now would be an excellent time. After they’re gone, all Centre offices are in lockdown. No one in or out except on my direct order. The ones that have to stay, notify their families, tell them the same thing." Karen nodded and began dialing. Parker turned to Jarod. "I need your big brain Jarod, and I need it now. Are you with me?"
