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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 other fictional characters not appearing on the Pretender are mine. I don’t own the Profiler, either. Since it’s cancellation, I don’t know who owns it. 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 1.

The phase two ATF units and elite federal swat teams are poised to go into the Centre at 11:00PM. Prior to that, the phase one-surveillance/strike teams are in place to take down Mr. Parker, Raines, and the others, at 6:30 as they go home for the day. Great numbers of federal agents already in place on the inside wait anxiously for their part of the show to begin.

Meanwhile, it’s business as usual at the Centre. Miss Parker, Major Charles, and now Mr. Broots are back in their cells on the renewal wing. Sydney is resting in his private room off the infirmary, while Jarod attends his final cloning session. Lyle knows there is a Centre contract out on him, but is willing to risk everything to finish his twisted plan. Angelo pretty much knows about the pull out, but is still up to his own spying game. Aug.19, 2000 4/17/01



In Pursuit Of Happiness
Part 23a
by jojarod50






ATF Field Office
Special Operations: Control Base
Blue Cove, Delaware
3:12PM


“Sounds to me like you’re losing your objectivity, Jerry. This is getting to you, isn’t it?”

“I’ll be ok, I’m just really tired of putting up with these jerks. But, to tell you the truth, the flagrant disregard for life here would get to anyone.”

“The captives will undoubtedly need some form of counseling and a real nice extended vacation from what I’ve seen. At least the ones that aren’t incarcerated,” he said with a deep regretful sigh, thinking about Dr. Green and possibly a couple of others.

“That fits in with what I’ve heard. Wait ‘til you see where they’ll be staying. If only we could be so lucky”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what these people have gone through, Harris.”

“We better get back to the job at hand. This place is swarming with security and I have major concerns about getting everyone out safely.“

“Didn’t I tell you, they brought Ed Channey and Rice in on this one? It’ll probably get pretty messy, but we’ll clear you a secured path. You just make sure your agents keep the six locked in their rooms until we give you the all clear. The coded locks are programmed to remain inoperable until they are reactivated. The young boy is an amazing genius. He has it all timed out.”

“Good. One more thing. The sooner you get the principal targets out of my hair, the better. Especially, Mr. Lyle. For God’s sake. You should have advised me, when he reentered the building last night. We almost lost Jarod Charles. I don’t expect any more slip-ups like that.”
“I know. We’re still trying to figure out how he got back into the building undetected. But look, that’s moot now.”

“Meisser, you’re doing a great job. Just sit tight and don’t tip your hand. Make sure you get all six captives moved into ventilation tunnels 27-401 or 27-403, by 2330 hours. The SWAT teams will have entered and secured by the time you make your move.”

“My people will be there on time, Harris. Have emergency medical transport in place. I’ve got one who’s hardly ambulatory and others who may need assistance if, God forbid, things go south.”

“I think we’ve got all the bases covered. Anything else?”

“I’ll be in a meeting with the Charles kid for the next 3 hours. I’ve gotta go. The back door, 2330hrs. Request radio silence until 2300 hrs. Out.”

*

“Harris, what was that all about?”

“Tough job for a full time criminal psychiatrist, who’s not used to this kind of field assignment. He hasn’t seen a lot of action since the Vietnam War, but is still a hell of a shot. Jerry’s never been good at the waiting game. I think he’s ready to kick some serious butt.”

“Who’s doing surveillance on Mr. Lyle? Do we know his location right now?”

“We’ve got Bailey and John on that one. They said he’s dinning at a place called the Little Red Dragon right now.”

“Well, tell them to make sure he doesn’t give them the slip. He has some kind of personal vendetta against Jarod Charles. We can’t chance loosing that psychopath again.”

* * *

The Centre
Jarod’s Old Room
Friday 3:30 PM

Repeating his ritual from the day before, Willie entered the pretender’s room carrying two sets of manacles and looked around for his target.

Jarod sat pensively in a chair facing the door, while Dr. Meisser spoke to him quietly from the couch. The moment the sweepers approached, he fell silent, giving his charge an apologetic look.

Being assaulted by Lyle, in the night, made having the pretender do this now seem totally absurd. Actually, having Jarod do anything but rest, after all they had put him through the last two days, would challenge any sane man’s understanding.

He still wasn’t eating much and Dr. Grackle had given him a scathing rebuke for not drinking his fortified shakes. Glancing at the putrid greenish drink on the table beside him, Dr. Meisser could hardly blame him. He knew Jarod was running mostly on anger and adrenaline, but there was really nothing the agent could do to help him now. He had seen to it that Jarod had gotten some sleep, earlier, and that was the best he could do.

“Get up,” Willie ordered, motioning for Sam to help him secure the pretender.

With a forced look of amusement, he slowly stood, crossing his arms over his chest, as if to challenge the man.

“Well, Willie, nice to see you again. Still into that dungeon thing I see.”

“Don’t get smart with me. Hold out your hands.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dr. Meisser protested, stepping in-between the two men. “Those cuffs will only aggravate his injuries and may even break the sutures. Do you really want to chance the delay that would cause?”

“I was warned about you, doctor. My orders are to have you removed, if you do anything to interfere. Back off, or Jarod will do this alone.”

Realizing he really had no choice, the agent reluctantly stepped aside.

Wasting no time, the sweepers swiftly manacled the pretender and headed him in the direction of the conference table.

The agent purposely had to keep reminding himself that there were only about 3 hours until phase one of the operations began and only 4-1/2 hours more before the swat teams infiltrated the Centre.

From what he had heard, Willie was Raines driver and with any luck they would both be put out of commission soon after the session was over.

*

Moments later…

The coded lock was manipulated again and Raines, followed by the geneticists, entered the room.

“Jarod, I see you’re still with us,” Raines said, sizing him up and noticing he looked pretty bad. His pale complexion accentuated the dark circles under his angry red rimmed eyes, while the unmistakable look of hatred on his face, added to the old man’s concern about the pretender’s reliability. He was well aware that Jarod could easily undermine the session, if indeed he could physically make it through it. He stood there with his eyes locked on Raines in a way that told him it had been wise to put him in restraints.

“I hope you’re through with your dramatics for the day. You have some serious work to complete here,” the old man rasped without bating an eye.

Dr. Kilmmer and Dr. Moore took their seats without saying a word. They were thoroughly disgusted that this was the only recourse they had, and skeptical that the pretender would be able to perform as well today under the present circumstances.

“Sit down, Jarod,” Raines said impatiently, as Willie set up the monitor facing him and flipped on the screen.

“I don’t know what you thought you’d accomplish by slitting your wrists. This is the Centre; you won’t be allowed to kill yourself, so don’t try it again.
Now, for your father’s sake you better cooperated fully, with no hesitation this time, or it could prove very unfortunate for him.”

So this is how he wanted to play it. If anyone was endangering the project from going forward, it certainly wasn’t anyone on the Centre payroll, he thought, sensing that Raines was totally aware of the truth.
Not really caring if they thought he was suicidal or not, he silently took his seat beside his doctor, just wanting to get it over with. He was curious though, why they wanted a supposedly unstable man to sim their precious project and what was rush to get it done.

His face paled, as he stared at his father’s image on the screen, silently pledging to him that he would keep him safe. Being reunited with the people he loved was the only thing keeping him going at this point. He had been oppressively tired for so long, it was becoming unbearably hard to function.

“Let’s get started,” Raines said, motioning for Sam to pass out the briefs and several files to each man at the table.

Jarod let out a halting breath as he opened the first file; the cuffs making the pain in his wrists come alive.

“You will have to turn the pages for me, for right now,” he told the agent, while giving Willie an aggravated look.”

* * *

Renewal Wing
Cell 19
5:22 PM

It had been about two hours since he had been ordered to sit in the chair facing the camera and his stress level was going through the roof. Yet, Major Charles sat quietly trying to keep a pleasant expression on his face, knowing that he was being used to coerced Jarod into working on the new cloning project, of all things, and that he was probably seeing him right now. He hoped, in a small way, if he looked relaxed enough his son might worry less. Inwardly though, his soul was consumed with pain.

He had almost collapsed when Mr. Lyle had informed him that his son had tried to commit suicide. Sydney had been afraid that would happen, and had warned him to keep a close eye on his son. If only he had been there with him, he would have never let this happen.

The Major glanced at Mr. Johnson, who was holding a gun on him. He knew he was an undercover agent. If only there were a way to let Jarod know, but he knew that was impossible.

He thought about what he would do if he could get his hands on a gun, and figured he’d probably kill them all for their unwarranted cruelty to his son.

He had heard that Lyle had fled the Centre, after their brief talk about Jarod. He had no idea what that was all about, but hoped he would meet a bad end, for everything he had done.

* * *

Jarod’s Old Room
5:33 PM

Jarod stopped his discourse in mid-sentence and slumped back in his chair, as the room started spinning and his eyes threatened to close for good.

“Jarod, what’s the matter?” Dr. Meisser, asked, already knowing the answer.

“Dizzy.”

“Jarod, answer Dr. Kilmmer’s question and quit stalling, or your father will pay a heavy price,” Raines pressed, tired of listening to him losing track of what he was saying and irritated by the way he was slowing things down.

“He needs a break, Raines. Can’t you see he’s totally exhausted?”

“He’ll get a break in about an hour, after he finishes his work. Give him a shot, if you need to. I brought something along just in case. Do what ever it takes to keep him going, or I’ll follow through with my threat. He’s caused too many delays on this project already, and won’t be allowed to do this now. Willie, give this to Dr. Meisser.”

“This is unbelievable. Is that you people’s solution for everything? Pumping him full of drugs?”

“You’ve just won yourself a free ticket out of here. Sam, escort Dr. Meisser back to his office and return here immediately. Willie give the pretender this shot.”

“Wait a minute. That won’t be necessary. I’ll cooperate,” the agent said, not daring to leave Jarod alone with these ghouls.

“That’s more like it,” Raines said with a sadistic grin. “Now give him the shot and don’t cross me again.”

“What is it?”

“Just a harmless stimulant. It’s compatible with his treatments. Get it done so we can get back to work.”

Despite the disapproving look from Raines, Dr. Meisser checked Jarod out carefully before administering the shot.

Feeling the edges of darkness retreat, Jarod took a few moments going over the files to get organized. He then finished the explanation he had been giving to Dr. Kilmmer, with much more clarity then he knew he needed to, hoping they wouldn’t take his delay out on his dad.

The pretender hated himself for what he was doing, but cleverly misrepresented the facts whenever possible. He knew exactly which materials were way over their heads and took advantage of it every time.

He thought his rambling and mental confusion, at times, was a nice touch, and planned on continuing it to aggravate Raines, as long as he could get away with it. Though he had almost passed out, his mind was extremely sharp, thanks to the treatments he had received. Yet, there was no way he was going to give Raines the pleasure of knowing it.

Picking up where Kilmmer left off, Dr. Moore referred Jarod to another group of files, concerning an aberration in one of the genes that was causing gross mutations in most of the more recent cloning attempts.

The enormity of the assault on humanity documented in the copy and accompanying photos was staggering. It was all he could do, after his exposure to this, to keep from going over the edge, but he pushed down his extreme anger for his father’s sake.

He found the massive scale of Gemini III particularly disturbing. It involved well over two hundred secret Centre locations around the world. He vowed he would never rest until the project and the twisted men behind it were brought down. One look at the agent beside him, told Jarod they were on exactly the same page.

* * *

ATF Field Office
Special Operations: Control Base
Blue Cove, Delaware
6:27 PM

“Outer perimeter units are in place. Everything is go here.”

“I copy that. Apprehend subjects with extreme caution; consider them armed and dangerous. On my mark, 3 minutes and counting.”

“Joe, are the SWAT units in place? We’re all go here.”

“We have a discreet presence on site, with primary perimeter/containment, entry, and command, ETA 4 hours and counting.”

“Harris, conditions report from team coordinator on the inside?”

“Everything is go as of 1512 hours. Agent Meisser has requested Emergency medical transport to be in place. We have their 20’s pinned down and agents have been advised. Marksmen and support are already strategically placed at each of these locations. He requested radio silence until 2300.”

“Thank you. Ok, George, are you and Gemini set? I don’t think I need to remind you of how crucial your part is, where all parties are concerned.”

“Security, surveillance, communication, and all key defense systems are rigged to go down simultaneously, along with power and backup systems, just as you ordered, sir. Don’t worry, we’ll be able to handle anything the Main Frame throws at us,” Jarod’s clone said beaming with pride and anticipation. He had grown a lot over the past year with Major Charles, and felt much more comfortable around people he knew were his allies.

“Please, just don’t let anything happen to my father and brother,” he said his eyes conveying his deep concern.

“You just concentrate on your part, and we’ll take care of the rest,” the special agent reassured him, giving him a smile and a quick wink. “We do this sort of thing all the time. Why don’t you both take a break? We won’t be needing you for 4 more hours,” he said before picking up his mike.

“Ok, phase one units, let’s go to work.”

* * *

6:38 PM
Along south 177th Trafficway near the exit ramp

The undercover agent tailing the chairman’s town car fell back, as it switched lanes taking the Riverview exit, oblivious to the barricade around the bottom curve. Another agent switched lanes and the two cars followed the target down the hill.

“Sam, what the hell is this?” Mr. Parker spit, sliding his gun carefully out from under his suit coat and pushing off the safety. “You better get me out of here.”

“Yes sir,” Sam said, disengaging the air bags, slamming on the accelerator, and plowing through the middle of the barricade, sending officers running for their lives.

The agents tailing them flew through the barricade, forcing the town car onto a frontage road before Sam could maneuver out of it. Cursing loudly, his car spun out of control, as he suddenly slammed on the breaks hitting a guard rail and veered off the road, barely avoiding a bridge that was out.
*
Sam was out cold. His forehead was bleeding profusely, as it rested against the steering wheel, the horn blaring loudly in the air. Popping the latch on his seatbelt, Mr. Parker groped around on the floor looking for his gun, realizing there was no way he could make a run for it.

Cautiously, the ATF agents approached his car. Taking their positions near the deep ditch where the vehicle had landed, two snipers zeroed in on the wanted man.

“This is the FBI. Get your hands in the air, and keep them there. We’ve got you surrounded, so don’t try anything stupid, or we’ll take you out,” the agent called over the bullhorn.

As the chairman lifted his gun to his tempo, it was shot out of his hand. The agents rushed his car, pulled him out onto the ground, and cuffed his hands behind his back.

“You are under arrest for the crimes you’ve committed under the guise of the Corporation known as the Centre. You have the right to remain silent. Any thing you do say can be used against you in a court of law…”

* * *

Several miles away on Interstate 425
6:42 PM

“Willie, you’ll be working late tonight. We’re going to swing by my house after dinner.”
Willie nodded in acknowledgement, trying to keep a low profile, as the heated conversation continued.

“And another thing, Raines, why is the pretender in such bad shape? Don’t your people understand the ramifications of losing such a priceless piece of equipment? I’m truly shocked at his physical condition. Not just today, mind you, but yesterday before his unfortunate choice of behavior. If I had him at my facilities, he would be handled with extreme care physically and emotionally. You people are going to destroy him in no time with your barbaric slipshod lack of medically sound care. I’m seriously considering approaching the Triumvirate about appropriating the pretender for myself.”

“Don’t cross me, Kilmmer, you know as well as I do, what happened to Jarod before that ill fated plane crash. You approved whole heartily of his treatment then, when it was to your advantage. It’s a shame we didn’t retrieve the boy or the DSAs and that Lyle gave Jarod a hallucinogen overdose, but that’s all water under the bridge.

“He was in bad shape when we reacquired him, and if things weren’t on such a tight schedule, we’d keep him in the infirmary until he was properly restored.”

“If you want to blame anyone for pressuring him into performing the sim on Monday, blame Mutumbo and the Triumvirate. They’re the ones bent on having J-3 clone in every facility by such an outrageously short deadline. Besides, I haven’t heard any complaints out of you until now. Unless you’re interested in taking out the whole African hierarchy with a power play, get off my back.”

“It could be done, you know,” Dr. Moore said taking a sip of his scotch on the rocks, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Raines gave him an interested look.

Willie took the exit ramp and headed onto I35, North toward Raines favorite private club, The Brown Pelican, where he had planned to dine with his associates.

Suddenly, the car in front of him slammed on his breaks and Willie’s only option was to swerve onto the shoulder to avoid hitting him. In a slick orchestrated plan, two other agents pulled onto the shoulder in front and behind him before he could react.

“What the hell is this, Raines? Dr. Kilmmer yelled drawing his gun and training it on the car to his left. Following suit, the others did likewise, ready to take them on.

“This is the FBI. Throw out your weapons nice and easy and put your hands in the air. You’re all under arrest.”

“Willie’s eyes flashed in Raines direction momentarily, before hitting the gas, attempting to cut through the small gap in-between the front and side car on the left. An agent sent blinding teargas through the back windshield, quickly filling up the car. The town car maneuvered in-between the two cars as the scientists frantically clawed at the doors to get out. Plowing between them, the sheer speed of the now out of control car sent it into a fatal spin and inadvertently careening off the shoulder and down an extremely steep incline. The car briefly shot through a heavily wooded area, slamming head-on into a tree, causing the airbags to deploy.

***

Outside a Ware house on front street and 3rd
6:53 PM

“That’s affirmative. Mr. Lyle, Mr. Cox, and what we believe to be 6 members of an Asian drug cartel just entered the building. We’ve got the entrances and exits covered but request additional backup, before we go in.”

“I copy that. Back up ETA 3 minutes. Hold your position until they get there.”

“We’ll hold, over. John, are you ready for this.”

“I’m ready,” he said tightly giving Bailey a hard look. This one’s a real sick bastard. It’ll be my pleasure.”

“John, our orders are to take Mr. Lyle, as well as the others, alive.”

The younger man let out a frustrated sigh. “I know.”

“This assignment has turned into a real monster,” Bailey said, glancing around, looking for any sudden movement. It’s going to be a really big bust.”

*

Moments later…

“Gray, report, over? Gray, do you copy? Gray?”

“Paul, we’ve lost communication, with our back door.”

“I’m on it, Bailey. Give me a minute,” the agent answered just as three more patrol cars pulled up and cut their lights. *

***

The Centre
7:45 PM

“Stop the car. I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to, before I can wash my hand of this place.”

“You are aware, aren’t you, that if you show your face here again, you’re a dead man? You certainly have a definite lack of survival instincts, Mr. Lyle. What on earth do you expect to accomplish?”

“Oh, I don’t expect to die for a very long time. I know the Centre like the back of my hand. I can slip inside any time I want to. There are some records and other items I need to retrieve. No one will ever know I was here, except Jarod.”

“Your obsession with that man is going to be the end of you. Mark my words. You better walk away now. You have enough money from that drug deal to start your own corporation.”

Lyle pulled his gun and aimed it point blank at Cox, still lusting for violence after the carnage he had participated in at the warehouse.
“I’m a man with special needs,” he said sliding into an easy smile. “Maybe one of them is to kill you.”

“You need me, if you’re going to start your own cloning project. Don’t forget that.”

“I do, don’t I. I’ll meet you in Chicago tomorrow,” Lyle said, shutting the door quietly and walking away. *









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