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This fanfic is written purely for entertainment and promotion of my favorite show, The Pretender. I am merely borrowing the characters from the TV show owned by Pretender Productions, MTM, TNT, FOX, and NBC, I think. All the other fictional characters not appearing on the Pretender are mine. I don’t own the Profiler, either. Please don’t sue me, as I have no money.
This story takes place in the first 5-7 weeks after Donoterase. Please start with part I.
Things are living hell back at the Centre. ATF agents are preparing Jarod and company for tomorrow night, while careful preparations a going on back at Atlanta. Lyle is not back yet from his failed trip to capture Gemini, but Mr. Parker is already trying to salvage the situation. 7/22/00
In Pursuit Of Happiness
Part 20
by jojarod50
Dr. Meisser’s Office
12:50 PM
Major Charles rubbed his hands over his face and shivered slightly as he slid the third part of the test across the table, not bothering to even look at up. At least this joker had shown some patients with me instead of having me beaten, he thought trying not to totally despair.
Dr. Grackle was cruelly under medicating the Major. The pain from the gunshot wound he had gotten during the car chase and the subsequent beating he had taken at the farmhouse was taking a heavy toll on him. On top of that, everything the Centre had demanded of him was coupled with threats made against his son, to ensure his cooperation. The reality of what his son had endured all his life at the Centre was becoming agonizingly clear to him, as he wrestled with fear and anger of his own.
“You’re doing just fine, Major,” the psychiatrist commented, glancing over his papers, noticing he was at least filling in the blanks. There’s just one more part of the test to complete, and judging by your performance so far, you’ll zip right through it. Here is the key you’ll be using,” he said, scooting the altered sheet of paper across the table, painfully aware of the other man’s duress. “Read the instructions carefully and give me a nod when you’re ready to begin. Any questions?”
“What about my son? Is he all right? Please let me see him,” he asked unable to keep the anguish out of his voice.
“Major, I’m sorry. We really need to do this first,” he said glancing up at the surveillance camera. “I’ll try to find out when you can. Now, please go over the key so we can begin,” he urged, hoping he would at least read the first two lines that explained he was an undercover agent and that they were all being pulled out tomorrow night. It was obvious the man probably couldn’t handle much more abuse without having any hope.
The major let out a frustrated sigh as he shifted in his chair and started in on the paper. After a few moments he looked up at the psychiatrist cautiously, searching his eyes for confirmation of what he had just read, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
“Well, I assume you understand your instructions now,” he said giving Jarod’s father a reassuring smile and a quick wink Two down and one to go, he thought to himself, as he slid the test across the table to the astonished man.
“All right go ahead and start on the test now,” the doctor said clicking the stopwatch as he reached for the phone.
* * *
(Meisser/Parker Offices)
“Dr. Meisser. Oh hello, Mr. Parker. What can I do for you?” he asked stepping away from the testing area, wondering if the chairman was finished questioning Jarod and still extremely angry about the whole thing.
“You can answer some questions for one thing,” Mr. Parker said slamming down a report from Dr. Grackle on his desk loud enough to be heard over the phone.
“What the hell is the matter with Jarod? He could barely sit upright in his chair a few minutes ago. You’re supposed to be helping him get back on his feet, not doping him up to the gills.”
“Why don’t you take that up with the man who developed his treatment. It really is a miraculous restorative serum, but I can’t understand why anyone would want a narcotic in it. If Jarod were going to be on it much longer, he’d end up addicted.”
“Oh, so that’s it,” he said his voice trailing off. “Speaking of Raines, I’ve been told you refused to start the pretender on the psychotropic drug that he developed specifically to go along with his treatments. That’s not your decision to make. We need the pretender ready to work as soon as possible. I’m ordering you to begin him on L324 immediately.”
Dr. Meisser let out a loud frustrated sigh, trying desperately to hold back his anger at the menacing presence at the other end of the phone, reminding himself that he only had to keep Jarod safe from him until tomorrow night.
“Mr. Parker, you must understand, with my background in biochemistry and psychiatry, that I do have the expertise to know what is best for Jarod.
After reviewing the file on that specific medication, I deemed it necessary to intervene for the safety of my patient. Many of the chemicals used in that drug are under the scrutiny of the food and drug administration at this time and two others have already been ban for their lack of predictability. There’s even one chemical I don’t recognize at all.
After the tailspin Cox’s injection sent Jarod into this morning, I’d think you’d have a little more faith in my judgement concerning this area. We’re lucky we didn’t loose him. I want Jarod back on his feet as much as you do, but I won’t further jeopardize his health.”
The other end of the phone fell silent for more than a minute, before the chairman spoke again.
“Ok, Dr. Meisser. You win this round. But I need for Jarod to perform a series of sims, beginning on Monday. He better damn well be ready by then, or it will be your neck. I’m sending some briefs, files, and preliminary data down to his room. See to it that he starts familiarizing himself with the materials as soon as he’s with it. I’m also sending some people down to monitor his progress and I don’t want you interfering in any way. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes, Sir, but I hope you understand that he is still going to be too murky to manage any reading for at least another hour or so. What he really needs now is rest. He’s not in very good shape after what happened to him this morning.”
“Yes, that was regrettable, but I don’t want you coddling him.”
“I understand that. One more thing, Mr. Parker, while I have you on the phone. Jarod will be more emotionally stable, if he is allowed to visit with his father. He hasn’t been handling things well at all and I’m sure this will help. I was thinking in about 10 minutes would be a good time to get them together, since Jarod is indisposed right now anyway.”
“That’s completely out of the question. No one is to go near the pretender, other than assigned staff, under any circumstances and that’s final. So don’t ask me again. He’s already escaped twice and there is no way that I’m risking loosing him again! Now, see to it Jarod gets busy on his new assignment this afternoon,” Mr. Parker said brusquely enjoying his power over the other man, as he hung up the phone.
* * *
The Federal agent shook his head in dismay, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach, as he slowly hung up the phone. Regretting the look of anticipation on his face, he collected himself and walked over to Major Charles to tell him the visit with Jarod was off.
“Major, you finished the test already? I’m very impressed.”
“Like father like son,” he joked, positive that he had flunked it but encouraged knowing that all of them would hopefully be safe by tomorrow night. “Now, when can we go see Jarod?” he asked with eagerness.
“I’m sorry to get your hopes up, Major. Mr. Parker rejected the idea. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to be patient, for now.”
“Mr. Parker said no, huh? I shouldn’t be surprised,” the Major said obviously extremely disappointed, looking up suddenly as a sweeper appeared though the office door.
“Excuse me, Dr. Meisser. Mr. Cox has ordered me to deliver Major Charles to SL 27 now, if you’re finished with his testing.
“Mr. Cox?” the doctor asked with trepidation, his eyes riveted on the sweeper’s.
“Yeah. He mentioned something about some missing DSAs,” he said keeping his expression carefully neutral, while his eyes betrayed his concern.
“Ok, Mr. Johnson, you can take the Major now,” he said giving Jarod’s dad a wane smile. “We’re accomplished what we set out to do. Thank you Major Charles for your cooperation. I’ll look forward to seeing you again,” he said watching as the undercover agent escorted him out the door, hoping he would be able to keep him out of harms way.
Glancing up at the clock, the psychiatrist realized he had just over an hour before Miss Parker was scheduled to arrive for her 3:00 appointment. Plenty of time to check on Jarod and maybe take a look at his new Centre assignment, he thought filing the Major’s test, and grabbing his stethoscope and cuff.
“Nurse, I need to check on the pretender. Why don’t you give Miss Parker a cup of coffee, if she arrives early? I’ll be back probably well before 3:00, but you never know.”
“Yes, doctor.”
* * *
Jarod’s Old Room
1:55 PM
“So, how was your talk with Mr. Parker?” the psychiatrist asked as he pumped up the blood pressure cuff, noticing his patient’s lack of coloring as he lay sprawled on the bed.
“Typical,” Jarod said still fighting exhaustion and struggling to keep his eyes from shutting.
“Hmmm. Your blood pressure is still in your socks. I imagine your body still hasn’t fully recovered from the drug interaction you experienced this morning.”
“Will I still be able to see my father?”
“No, Jarod. I’m sorry. I should have never mentioned it before I talked it over with Mr. Parker,” he admitted watching his patient close his eyes and turn away.
Dr. Meisser fell silent as he checked his pulse jotting something quickly on the chart.
“Ok, just lie still while I finish your examination,” he said as he gently pulled up Jarod’s tunic and winced at what he saw.
“I’m sorry, Jarod. I had no idea you were beaten this badly.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said giving him a thoughtful smile, as he felt the cold stethoscope touch his skin.
“Well, your vitals are a little off but it’s really nothing to worry about,” he said draping the stethoscope back around his neck. “Ok, Jarod. I want you to go to sleep now. I certainly think you’ve earned it. Mr. Parker has an assignment he wants you to work on starting on Monday. I believe he said he wants you to do a series of sims. I’m sure that’s what he called them. There is a box of materials he wants you to familiarize yourself with after you’ve gotten some rest. Do you understand what he was talking about?”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” the pretender breathed, pushing himself angrily off the bed and heading for the other room.
“Jarod, I said later,” he said, following after the pretender as he reached the box, picked up a file, and began leafing through it quickly.
“I hope you rot in hell for this,” he screamed, as he heaved the file at a surveillance camera and doubled over in excruciating pain at the sudden movement of his cracked ribs.
“What on earth was that all about?” asked the psychiatrist, stooping beside the angry man slowly helping him up. “You could have punctured your lung throwing that file like that.”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” he said gritting his teeth as he tried to stand up straight. “I just wanted to know what those sick bastards wanted from me.”
“Don’t do this to yourself. Let’s get you back in the other room. There’s no way you can deal with this when you’re dead on your feet.”
“Interesting choice of words, Doc. That’s just what I deserve after what I’ve done.”
“You want to talk about it?” he asked, as the pretender lowered himself gingerly onto the bed.
“No. What would be the point now? Please just leave me alone.”
“All right, Jarod. I will for right now. Get some sleep. I’m going to hang around for a little while.”
“Suit yourself.”
*
It took surprisingly little time before the pretender fell fast asleep giving the doctor a chance to look at what had set him off.
Fishing out as many files as he could carry, the agent took them to Jarod’s desk, sat down and started to flip through them hurriedly. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that the materials were from the original cloning project, including file after file of graphic pictures of deformed human fetuses and abnormal internal organ arrangements of autopsied newborn clones. The briefcase contained several hardcopy files of Jarod’s original cloning sim and a number of DSAs.”
Setting the briefcase on the floor and putting the files back in the box, Dr. Meisser left Jarod’s room and headed for the infirmary to ask Grackle if he could speak with Dr. Green.
* * *
Centre Infirmary
2:35PM
“I’m rather busy right now, Jerry. What do you want?” Dr. Grackle said with irritation, stepping into a small room to the left to view some X-rays followed by the other man.
“I need a consultation with Dr. Green. Which room is he in?”
“Well, that’s a non-starter,” he said absently, slipping the films under the tabs of the view screen. “He’s sedated right now.”
“Sedated? What on earth for? He’s post-operative. What are you trying to do, give him pneumonia?”
“It was for his own good. I’m afraid he went off the deep end after his surgery. It was the only way to manage him.”
“You should have consulted me. I’m sure….”
“Nelson, get off my back. I have my orders, same as you. Besides, his lungs are clear. He’ll just take a little longer to get his strength back. Now, don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Well, I guess I don’t need to ask you what happened to your Hippocratic oath.”
“You know, I wish Sydney were awake. You two bleeding hearts would get along famously. Excuse me, I have a spiral fracture to attend to,” he said abruptly pulling the X-rays down and leaving the room in a huff.
Dr. Meisser felt suddenly nauseous as he turned to walk away. He’d come to respect Dr. Green, in spite of himself. This isn’t over, he breathed, realizing he’d have to straighten it out later. Feeling a splitting headache coming on, he returned to his office, looking forward to meeting Jarod’s female nemesis who had ended up on his side.
* * *
Mr. Cox Office
2:36 PM
“All right, Major Charles. Make it easy on you self, and try to answer the question this time,” he said tossing a glass of water in the man’s face keeping him from passing out.
“Where have you hidden, the pretender’s DSAs? I assure you, you’re not leaving here until you tell me,” he said impatiently picking up the jumper cable looking forward to using it next.
“Go to hell,” the Major spit weakly eyeing the cable and wondering if he would get out of this alive. He had no idea where Gemini and the DSAs were, but Cox refused to believe him.
Mr. Johnson stood toward the back of the small room where he had been told to wait, trying to figure out a way to intervene without blowing his cover. That surge of electricity would probably give the older man a heart attack he thought, stepping forward to make his move.
“Are you having a problem, Mr. Johnson?” Cox asked suddenly turning around.
“I’m not sure. It’s just that he might have a coronary if you zap him with that and you’ll never find out where he hid the DSAs, sir.”
“I guess, that’s just a chance we’ll have to take,” he said smiling wickedly.
Stepping forward, he jabbed the Major with the jumper cable, just as the lights went out, leaving them in total darkness.
“DAMN!” Mr. Cox swore picking up his phone, as the dim emergency lights came on. “What’s wrong with the power? I just lost everything up here. The power grid’s down? All right, in a couple of minutes,” he said hitting the button and slamming down the phone.
“Well, I guess you lucked out this time, Major. Just remember, I’ll be seeing you a little later. Take him back to his cell, Mr. Johnson. Oh and by the way, you’re on report.”
Angelo’s blue eyes flashed in the darkness, as he hurried back down the airduct.
* * *
Centre Infirmary
2:45 PM
“Thank you, nurse,” Broots said, tentatively taking a sip from the straw then looking away from her steady gaze.
“You need to drink as much as you can. Try another sip. You’ve become very dehydrated from your bout with the flu and you’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Th the flu? But I thought I was sick because I’m gutless.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said seeing the pain in his eyes. “God only knows why Dr. Grackle enjoys being so cruel. Trust me, Mr. Broots, you wouldn’t be fighting such a high fever, if you were just a nervous wreck.”
Broots rolled over on his side, too tired to talk anymore. What she said was little consolation, knowing he’d betrayed his only friends. Pulling the blanket closer to his body, he lay there shivering until he mercifully fell asleep.
*
“Mr. Broots, can you hear me? I’m sorry to wake you right after you’d fallen asleep, but I have a shot for you and I didn’t want to take you by surprise,” the medical assistant said wiping his arm with an alcohol swab before giving him the shot.”
“What was that for?” he mumbled angrily, burning with fever and feeling like hell. “I won’t talk no matter what you do to me. Do you hear me? There’s nothing more to say,” he choked, his eyes filling with unshed tears.
“No, you don’t understand. This is for your fever. Now lay back and try to rest.”
“I told them everything,” Broots said quietly, riddled with guilt.
“That’s not exactly what I heard,” the undercover agent said with a compassionate smile. You talked in circles most of the time, frustrating the heck out of them. Your computer gave them most of their information. You only gave them bits and pieces. I heard your favorite topic was Miss Parker and how she was hard as a candy shell on the outside, but soft as a marsh-mellow deep in side. You must have it really bad for her.”
“She called me a wimp.”
“No, that’s what Dr. Grackle said, Broots. I guarantee no one who endured the beating you were given last night, without saying a word, would ever be considered a wimp. Now, get some sleep and I’ll talk to you again after your fever goes down,” she said patting his forehead with a cool damp cloth. Glancing at her watch she calculated how long it would take for the medicine to break his fever making him coherent enough to be told about the pull out. Looking vaguely in the direction of the agent posing as a male nurse, she shook her head no slightly, letting him know she had failed to inform him so far.
* * *
Dr. Meisser’s Office
3:25 PM
“Now, why would you say that, Miss Parker?” the psychiatrist asked realizing she would say almost anything to avoid exposing her venerability.
“None of your business, you psycho-brain collector. Now, deal me the rest of the cards so we can get this stupid game over with.”
“All right, what does this one remind you of?” Dr. Meisser asked holding up the last inkblot, intrigued by her ability to sidestep giving a direct answer, always throwing in sexual content perhaps to embarrass him.
“A dog in heat,” she said giving him a triumphant grin, knowing the picture looked exactly like two children holding hands.
“I must say, you certainly have some original interpretations,” he said in amusement, as he lay the cards aside and picked up what looked like a test.
“All right. Now I want you to work on the written part of the tests, using this blank piece of paper to write your answers on,” he said handing her two sheets of paper, hoping she would cooperated without the sweeper getting involved this time.
“I need a break, Mr.,” she announced leaving her seat and starting to pace, giving him the most intimidating glare she could muster.
Sam let out an audible sigh of frustration, as he stepped forward to intervene, but the doctor waved him off knowing she was a walking time bomb.
“I see you have your own surveillance set up. I figured you had some nasty habits, Dr. Meisser. Gee, don’t tell me, let me guess,” she said rounding the desk and peeking at the screen.
“Jarod.”
The agent approached her curiously, noticing she was hugging herself with her arms tightly with a look of deep sadness on her face.
“Miss Parker, we need to be getting back to your testing now,” he said in a gently voice, noticing her shields going up as she pretended she didn’t care.
Turning around quickly, she marched off, trying to block out the haunting image in her mind, of Jarod pacing the floor like a caged animal.
She’d noticed the doctor’s double take, when he glanced at the screen, as if Jarod was doing something unexpected. His surprised expression changed to one of deep concern reminding her of Sydney. Well, at least he seemed to care.
“All right, Bucky, let’s get this thing over with,” she said with irritation as they both took their seats at the table again. Starting in on the first question, she was stunned by what she read.
“Miss Parker, do you have any questions about what you’re supposed to do?” the agent asked, knowing she had just read about the pull out tomorrow night.
“What? Do you think I can’t read?” she asked irritably, her eyes searching the blue ones for conformation and finding it.
Jotting down ridiculous answers that would make a grown man blush, she whipped though the test quickly. Glancing occasionally at the agent, she wondered if his claims were a setup by her father to further test her lack of loyalty to the Centre.
“Thank you, Miss Parker, for your cooperation. This is all I had scheduled for you today,” the agent said hoping she would break down and trust him, despite her wariness.
“I’ll take those papers, Dr. Meisser. Mr. Paker wants them on his desk as soon as possible,” Sam said holding out his hand.
“If you insist, but they haven’t been evaluated yet,” the agent said smoothly, discreetly slipping the note onto another stack of papers as he handed them to him.
Miss Parker watched the agent’s slight of hand, realizing he must be on the up and up. Giving him a slight knowing smile, she turned and left with the sweeper full of anticipation.
Once alone, Dr. Meisser grabbed Jarod’s chart and headed out the door. While on the elevator, he reviewed what he had studied about the pretender. He realized Jarod never should have looked at those cloning files and that he probably felt responsible for the whole sordid mess.
* * *
Atlanta Violent Crimes Task Force
Atlanta, Georgia
Operations Room – 4:25 PM
George sat by Gemini completely mystified, as the teenager’s fingers flew over the computer keys, setting up triggers and pointing out the ones Jarod had already placed in the Centre Main Frame.
“These should help you get in and out without worrying about their security system tipping them off early he said, as he continued his explanation to Bailey and Jon, occasionally referring to the schematics and revised blue prints of the Centre he had drawn up an hour before.
“If you feel up to it, son, would you consider meeting with the swat team coordinator, before we go out for dinner?” Baily asked stupefied with the child’s brilliance and gaining confidence in their plan.
“That would be fine with me. I want to do everything I can to help you get them out safely,” he said smiling, as he thought about the Major and his “brother” Jarod. I miss them a lot,” he said, suddenly embarrassed by his own openness.
“I know you do, kid,” Bailey said looking over at Sam, who was watching the boy carefully for signs of stress and fatigue.
“Ok. Let’s get this meeting taken care of, Gemini. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving,” Bailey said, dialing the coordinator’s number and giving the boy a wink.
This story takes place in the first 5-7 weeks after Donoterase. Please start with part I.
Things are living hell back at the Centre. ATF agents are preparing Jarod and company for tomorrow night, while careful preparations a going on back at Atlanta. Lyle is not back yet from his failed trip to capture Gemini, but Mr. Parker is already trying to salvage the situation. 7/22/00
Part 20
by jojarod50
Dr. Meisser’s Office
12:50 PM
Major Charles rubbed his hands over his face and shivered slightly as he slid the third part of the test across the table, not bothering to even look at up. At least this joker had shown some patients with me instead of having me beaten, he thought trying not to totally despair.
Dr. Grackle was cruelly under medicating the Major. The pain from the gunshot wound he had gotten during the car chase and the subsequent beating he had taken at the farmhouse was taking a heavy toll on him. On top of that, everything the Centre had demanded of him was coupled with threats made against his son, to ensure his cooperation. The reality of what his son had endured all his life at the Centre was becoming agonizingly clear to him, as he wrestled with fear and anger of his own.
“You’re doing just fine, Major,” the psychiatrist commented, glancing over his papers, noticing he was at least filling in the blanks. There’s just one more part of the test to complete, and judging by your performance so far, you’ll zip right through it. Here is the key you’ll be using,” he said, scooting the altered sheet of paper across the table, painfully aware of the other man’s duress. “Read the instructions carefully and give me a nod when you’re ready to begin. Any questions?”
“What about my son? Is he all right? Please let me see him,” he asked unable to keep the anguish out of his voice.
“Major, I’m sorry. We really need to do this first,” he said glancing up at the surveillance camera. “I’ll try to find out when you can. Now, please go over the key so we can begin,” he urged, hoping he would at least read the first two lines that explained he was an undercover agent and that they were all being pulled out tomorrow night. It was obvious the man probably couldn’t handle much more abuse without having any hope.
The major let out a frustrated sigh as he shifted in his chair and started in on the paper. After a few moments he looked up at the psychiatrist cautiously, searching his eyes for confirmation of what he had just read, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
“Well, I assume you understand your instructions now,” he said giving Jarod’s father a reassuring smile and a quick wink Two down and one to go, he thought to himself, as he slid the test across the table to the astonished man.
“All right go ahead and start on the test now,” the doctor said clicking the stopwatch as he reached for the phone.
* * *
(Meisser/Parker Offices)
“Dr. Meisser. Oh hello, Mr. Parker. What can I do for you?” he asked stepping away from the testing area, wondering if the chairman was finished questioning Jarod and still extremely angry about the whole thing.
“You can answer some questions for one thing,” Mr. Parker said slamming down a report from Dr. Grackle on his desk loud enough to be heard over the phone.
“What the hell is the matter with Jarod? He could barely sit upright in his chair a few minutes ago. You’re supposed to be helping him get back on his feet, not doping him up to the gills.”
“Why don’t you take that up with the man who developed his treatment. It really is a miraculous restorative serum, but I can’t understand why anyone would want a narcotic in it. If Jarod were going to be on it much longer, he’d end up addicted.”
“Oh, so that’s it,” he said his voice trailing off. “Speaking of Raines, I’ve been told you refused to start the pretender on the psychotropic drug that he developed specifically to go along with his treatments. That’s not your decision to make. We need the pretender ready to work as soon as possible. I’m ordering you to begin him on L324 immediately.”
Dr. Meisser let out a loud frustrated sigh, trying desperately to hold back his anger at the menacing presence at the other end of the phone, reminding himself that he only had to keep Jarod safe from him until tomorrow night.
“Mr. Parker, you must understand, with my background in biochemistry and psychiatry, that I do have the expertise to know what is best for Jarod.
After reviewing the file on that specific medication, I deemed it necessary to intervene for the safety of my patient. Many of the chemicals used in that drug are under the scrutiny of the food and drug administration at this time and two others have already been ban for their lack of predictability. There’s even one chemical I don’t recognize at all.
After the tailspin Cox’s injection sent Jarod into this morning, I’d think you’d have a little more faith in my judgement concerning this area. We’re lucky we didn’t loose him. I want Jarod back on his feet as much as you do, but I won’t further jeopardize his health.”
The other end of the phone fell silent for more than a minute, before the chairman spoke again.
“Ok, Dr. Meisser. You win this round. But I need for Jarod to perform a series of sims, beginning on Monday. He better damn well be ready by then, or it will be your neck. I’m sending some briefs, files, and preliminary data down to his room. See to it that he starts familiarizing himself with the materials as soon as he’s with it. I’m also sending some people down to monitor his progress and I don’t want you interfering in any way. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes, Sir, but I hope you understand that he is still going to be too murky to manage any reading for at least another hour or so. What he really needs now is rest. He’s not in very good shape after what happened to him this morning.”
“Yes, that was regrettable, but I don’t want you coddling him.”
“I understand that. One more thing, Mr. Parker, while I have you on the phone. Jarod will be more emotionally stable, if he is allowed to visit with his father. He hasn’t been handling things well at all and I’m sure this will help. I was thinking in about 10 minutes would be a good time to get them together, since Jarod is indisposed right now anyway.”
“That’s completely out of the question. No one is to go near the pretender, other than assigned staff, under any circumstances and that’s final. So don’t ask me again. He’s already escaped twice and there is no way that I’m risking loosing him again! Now, see to it Jarod gets busy on his new assignment this afternoon,” Mr. Parker said brusquely enjoying his power over the other man, as he hung up the phone.
* * *
The Federal agent shook his head in dismay, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach, as he slowly hung up the phone. Regretting the look of anticipation on his face, he collected himself and walked over to Major Charles to tell him the visit with Jarod was off.
“Major, you finished the test already? I’m very impressed.”
“Like father like son,” he joked, positive that he had flunked it but encouraged knowing that all of them would hopefully be safe by tomorrow night. “Now, when can we go see Jarod?” he asked with eagerness.
“I’m sorry to get your hopes up, Major. Mr. Parker rejected the idea. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to be patient, for now.”
“Mr. Parker said no, huh? I shouldn’t be surprised,” the Major said obviously extremely disappointed, looking up suddenly as a sweeper appeared though the office door.
“Excuse me, Dr. Meisser. Mr. Cox has ordered me to deliver Major Charles to SL 27 now, if you’re finished with his testing.
“Mr. Cox?” the doctor asked with trepidation, his eyes riveted on the sweeper’s.
“Yeah. He mentioned something about some missing DSAs,” he said keeping his expression carefully neutral, while his eyes betrayed his concern.
“Ok, Mr. Johnson, you can take the Major now,” he said giving Jarod’s dad a wane smile. “We’re accomplished what we set out to do. Thank you Major Charles for your cooperation. I’ll look forward to seeing you again,” he said watching as the undercover agent escorted him out the door, hoping he would be able to keep him out of harms way.
Glancing up at the clock, the psychiatrist realized he had just over an hour before Miss Parker was scheduled to arrive for her 3:00 appointment. Plenty of time to check on Jarod and maybe take a look at his new Centre assignment, he thought filing the Major’s test, and grabbing his stethoscope and cuff.
“Nurse, I need to check on the pretender. Why don’t you give Miss Parker a cup of coffee, if she arrives early? I’ll be back probably well before 3:00, but you never know.”
“Yes, doctor.”
* * *
Jarod’s Old Room
1:55 PM
“So, how was your talk with Mr. Parker?” the psychiatrist asked as he pumped up the blood pressure cuff, noticing his patient’s lack of coloring as he lay sprawled on the bed.
“Typical,” Jarod said still fighting exhaustion and struggling to keep his eyes from shutting.
“Hmmm. Your blood pressure is still in your socks. I imagine your body still hasn’t fully recovered from the drug interaction you experienced this morning.”
“Will I still be able to see my father?”
“No, Jarod. I’m sorry. I should have never mentioned it before I talked it over with Mr. Parker,” he admitted watching his patient close his eyes and turn away.
Dr. Meisser fell silent as he checked his pulse jotting something quickly on the chart.
“Ok, just lie still while I finish your examination,” he said as he gently pulled up Jarod’s tunic and winced at what he saw.
“I’m sorry, Jarod. I had no idea you were beaten this badly.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said giving him a thoughtful smile, as he felt the cold stethoscope touch his skin.
“Well, your vitals are a little off but it’s really nothing to worry about,” he said draping the stethoscope back around his neck. “Ok, Jarod. I want you to go to sleep now. I certainly think you’ve earned it. Mr. Parker has an assignment he wants you to work on starting on Monday. I believe he said he wants you to do a series of sims. I’m sure that’s what he called them. There is a box of materials he wants you to familiarize yourself with after you’ve gotten some rest. Do you understand what he was talking about?”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” the pretender breathed, pushing himself angrily off the bed and heading for the other room.
“Jarod, I said later,” he said, following after the pretender as he reached the box, picked up a file, and began leafing through it quickly.
“I hope you rot in hell for this,” he screamed, as he heaved the file at a surveillance camera and doubled over in excruciating pain at the sudden movement of his cracked ribs.
“What on earth was that all about?” asked the psychiatrist, stooping beside the angry man slowly helping him up. “You could have punctured your lung throwing that file like that.”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” he said gritting his teeth as he tried to stand up straight. “I just wanted to know what those sick bastards wanted from me.”
“Don’t do this to yourself. Let’s get you back in the other room. There’s no way you can deal with this when you’re dead on your feet.”
“Interesting choice of words, Doc. That’s just what I deserve after what I’ve done.”
“You want to talk about it?” he asked, as the pretender lowered himself gingerly onto the bed.
“No. What would be the point now? Please just leave me alone.”
“All right, Jarod. I will for right now. Get some sleep. I’m going to hang around for a little while.”
“Suit yourself.”
*
It took surprisingly little time before the pretender fell fast asleep giving the doctor a chance to look at what had set him off.
Fishing out as many files as he could carry, the agent took them to Jarod’s desk, sat down and started to flip through them hurriedly. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that the materials were from the original cloning project, including file after file of graphic pictures of deformed human fetuses and abnormal internal organ arrangements of autopsied newborn clones. The briefcase contained several hardcopy files of Jarod’s original cloning sim and a number of DSAs.”
Setting the briefcase on the floor and putting the files back in the box, Dr. Meisser left Jarod’s room and headed for the infirmary to ask Grackle if he could speak with Dr. Green.
* * *
Centre Infirmary
2:35PM
“I’m rather busy right now, Jerry. What do you want?” Dr. Grackle said with irritation, stepping into a small room to the left to view some X-rays followed by the other man.
“I need a consultation with Dr. Green. Which room is he in?”
“Well, that’s a non-starter,” he said absently, slipping the films under the tabs of the view screen. “He’s sedated right now.”
“Sedated? What on earth for? He’s post-operative. What are you trying to do, give him pneumonia?”
“It was for his own good. I’m afraid he went off the deep end after his surgery. It was the only way to manage him.”
“You should have consulted me. I’m sure….”
“Nelson, get off my back. I have my orders, same as you. Besides, his lungs are clear. He’ll just take a little longer to get his strength back. Now, don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Well, I guess I don’t need to ask you what happened to your Hippocratic oath.”
“You know, I wish Sydney were awake. You two bleeding hearts would get along famously. Excuse me, I have a spiral fracture to attend to,” he said abruptly pulling the X-rays down and leaving the room in a huff.
Dr. Meisser felt suddenly nauseous as he turned to walk away. He’d come to respect Dr. Green, in spite of himself. This isn’t over, he breathed, realizing he’d have to straighten it out later. Feeling a splitting headache coming on, he returned to his office, looking forward to meeting Jarod’s female nemesis who had ended up on his side.
* * *
Mr. Cox Office
2:36 PM
“All right, Major Charles. Make it easy on you self, and try to answer the question this time,” he said tossing a glass of water in the man’s face keeping him from passing out.
“Where have you hidden, the pretender’s DSAs? I assure you, you’re not leaving here until you tell me,” he said impatiently picking up the jumper cable looking forward to using it next.
“Go to hell,” the Major spit weakly eyeing the cable and wondering if he would get out of this alive. He had no idea where Gemini and the DSAs were, but Cox refused to believe him.
Mr. Johnson stood toward the back of the small room where he had been told to wait, trying to figure out a way to intervene without blowing his cover. That surge of electricity would probably give the older man a heart attack he thought, stepping forward to make his move.
“Are you having a problem, Mr. Johnson?” Cox asked suddenly turning around.
“I’m not sure. It’s just that he might have a coronary if you zap him with that and you’ll never find out where he hid the DSAs, sir.”
“I guess, that’s just a chance we’ll have to take,” he said smiling wickedly.
Stepping forward, he jabbed the Major with the jumper cable, just as the lights went out, leaving them in total darkness.
“DAMN!” Mr. Cox swore picking up his phone, as the dim emergency lights came on. “What’s wrong with the power? I just lost everything up here. The power grid’s down? All right, in a couple of minutes,” he said hitting the button and slamming down the phone.
“Well, I guess you lucked out this time, Major. Just remember, I’ll be seeing you a little later. Take him back to his cell, Mr. Johnson. Oh and by the way, you’re on report.”
Angelo’s blue eyes flashed in the darkness, as he hurried back down the airduct.
* * *
Centre Infirmary
2:45 PM
“Thank you, nurse,” Broots said, tentatively taking a sip from the straw then looking away from her steady gaze.
“You need to drink as much as you can. Try another sip. You’ve become very dehydrated from your bout with the flu and you’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Th the flu? But I thought I was sick because I’m gutless.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said seeing the pain in his eyes. “God only knows why Dr. Grackle enjoys being so cruel. Trust me, Mr. Broots, you wouldn’t be fighting such a high fever, if you were just a nervous wreck.”
Broots rolled over on his side, too tired to talk anymore. What she said was little consolation, knowing he’d betrayed his only friends. Pulling the blanket closer to his body, he lay there shivering until he mercifully fell asleep.
*
“Mr. Broots, can you hear me? I’m sorry to wake you right after you’d fallen asleep, but I have a shot for you and I didn’t want to take you by surprise,” the medical assistant said wiping his arm with an alcohol swab before giving him the shot.”
“What was that for?” he mumbled angrily, burning with fever and feeling like hell. “I won’t talk no matter what you do to me. Do you hear me? There’s nothing more to say,” he choked, his eyes filling with unshed tears.
“No, you don’t understand. This is for your fever. Now lay back and try to rest.”
“I told them everything,” Broots said quietly, riddled with guilt.
“That’s not exactly what I heard,” the undercover agent said with a compassionate smile. You talked in circles most of the time, frustrating the heck out of them. Your computer gave them most of their information. You only gave them bits and pieces. I heard your favorite topic was Miss Parker and how she was hard as a candy shell on the outside, but soft as a marsh-mellow deep in side. You must have it really bad for her.”
“She called me a wimp.”
“No, that’s what Dr. Grackle said, Broots. I guarantee no one who endured the beating you were given last night, without saying a word, would ever be considered a wimp. Now, get some sleep and I’ll talk to you again after your fever goes down,” she said patting his forehead with a cool damp cloth. Glancing at her watch she calculated how long it would take for the medicine to break his fever making him coherent enough to be told about the pull out. Looking vaguely in the direction of the agent posing as a male nurse, she shook her head no slightly, letting him know she had failed to inform him so far.
* * *
Dr. Meisser’s Office
3:25 PM
“Now, why would you say that, Miss Parker?” the psychiatrist asked realizing she would say almost anything to avoid exposing her venerability.
“None of your business, you psycho-brain collector. Now, deal me the rest of the cards so we can get this stupid game over with.”
“All right, what does this one remind you of?” Dr. Meisser asked holding up the last inkblot, intrigued by her ability to sidestep giving a direct answer, always throwing in sexual content perhaps to embarrass him.
“A dog in heat,” she said giving him a triumphant grin, knowing the picture looked exactly like two children holding hands.
“I must say, you certainly have some original interpretations,” he said in amusement, as he lay the cards aside and picked up what looked like a test.
“All right. Now I want you to work on the written part of the tests, using this blank piece of paper to write your answers on,” he said handing her two sheets of paper, hoping she would cooperated without the sweeper getting involved this time.
“I need a break, Mr.,” she announced leaving her seat and starting to pace, giving him the most intimidating glare she could muster.
Sam let out an audible sigh of frustration, as he stepped forward to intervene, but the doctor waved him off knowing she was a walking time bomb.
“I see you have your own surveillance set up. I figured you had some nasty habits, Dr. Meisser. Gee, don’t tell me, let me guess,” she said rounding the desk and peeking at the screen.
“Jarod.”
The agent approached her curiously, noticing she was hugging herself with her arms tightly with a look of deep sadness on her face.
“Miss Parker, we need to be getting back to your testing now,” he said in a gently voice, noticing her shields going up as she pretended she didn’t care.
Turning around quickly, she marched off, trying to block out the haunting image in her mind, of Jarod pacing the floor like a caged animal.
She’d noticed the doctor’s double take, when he glanced at the screen, as if Jarod was doing something unexpected. His surprised expression changed to one of deep concern reminding her of Sydney. Well, at least he seemed to care.
“All right, Bucky, let’s get this thing over with,” she said with irritation as they both took their seats at the table again. Starting in on the first question, she was stunned by what she read.
“Miss Parker, do you have any questions about what you’re supposed to do?” the agent asked, knowing she had just read about the pull out tomorrow night.
“What? Do you think I can’t read?” she asked irritably, her eyes searching the blue ones for conformation and finding it.
Jotting down ridiculous answers that would make a grown man blush, she whipped though the test quickly. Glancing occasionally at the agent, she wondered if his claims were a setup by her father to further test her lack of loyalty to the Centre.
“Thank you, Miss Parker, for your cooperation. This is all I had scheduled for you today,” the agent said hoping she would break down and trust him, despite her wariness.
“I’ll take those papers, Dr. Meisser. Mr. Paker wants them on his desk as soon as possible,” Sam said holding out his hand.
“If you insist, but they haven’t been evaluated yet,” the agent said smoothly, discreetly slipping the note onto another stack of papers as he handed them to him.
Miss Parker watched the agent’s slight of hand, realizing he must be on the up and up. Giving him a slight knowing smile, she turned and left with the sweeper full of anticipation.
Once alone, Dr. Meisser grabbed Jarod’s chart and headed out the door. While on the elevator, he reviewed what he had studied about the pretender. He realized Jarod never should have looked at those cloning files and that he probably felt responsible for the whole sordid mess.
* * *
Atlanta Violent Crimes Task Force
Atlanta, Georgia
Operations Room – 4:25 PM
George sat by Gemini completely mystified, as the teenager’s fingers flew over the computer keys, setting up triggers and pointing out the ones Jarod had already placed in the Centre Main Frame.
“These should help you get in and out without worrying about their security system tipping them off early he said, as he continued his explanation to Bailey and Jon, occasionally referring to the schematics and revised blue prints of the Centre he had drawn up an hour before.
“If you feel up to it, son, would you consider meeting with the swat team coordinator, before we go out for dinner?” Baily asked stupefied with the child’s brilliance and gaining confidence in their plan.
“That would be fine with me. I want to do everything I can to help you get them out safely,” he said smiling, as he thought about the Major and his “brother” Jarod. I miss them a lot,” he said, suddenly embarrassed by his own openness.
“I know you do, kid,” Bailey said looking over at Sam, who was watching the boy carefully for signs of stress and fatigue.
“Ok. Let’s get this meeting taken care of, Gemini. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving,” Bailey said, dialing the coordinator’s number and giving the boy a wink.
