Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
In Pursuit of Happiness Part 43
By jojarod 50
See previous disclaimers for author's notes.
D.O.E. Safe house
living room
9:39 PM…
"Jarod," Andrea called from the open stair case, her smile fading as
she got her first glimpse of her disheveled husband. "You look
exhausted, sweetheart. They shouldn't have kept you away so long,"
she said protectively, finishing the last of the stairs.
"There was, um, a lot of paperwork to fill out," he said,
distractedly studying the distance between the spindles on the
staircase. "It's late, why don't you go on back to bed," he said,
managing a slight smile, more on auto-pilot than anything else,
suddenly feeling like he was being smothered.
"I was just relaxing. It's too early to go to bed. What are you
trying to do, get rid of me?" she asked, playfully, losing her smile
realizing he was too tired to play along.
"I'm sorry, would you like for me to fix you a sandwich?…Jarod?"
"Oh, um, no thanks."
Andrea's eyes narrowed slightly, as she got a better look at him,
noticing that his eyes were unfocused and he was definitely lacking
the sharp edge she was so accustomed to.
"Bailey didn't get you out of bed just to do paperwork, did he,
Jarod? How did you get those blood stains on your shirt?"
"Come on, kid, why don't we go upstairs and play some video
games," Emily suggested, deciding it would be best for Michael to
leave the room.
"Is the sun room ready? I really need to lay down," Jarod asked
evasively, looking anxiously down the hall way, vaguely aware that he
was beginning to have an anxiety attack.
"We hadn't decided on anything yet, remember," she said gently,
stricken by his lack of mental continuity.
"Son, before you do anything, I'd like to have a look at that
shoulder."
"It's probably nothing, dad," he said, barely able to keep up with
the shifting conversations. "Let's not bother with it right now," he
managed with a polite smile, suddenly heading across the living room
toward the sliding glass door.
Andrea glanced at Major Charles, who returned a worried look.
"Jarod, where are you going? You said you wanted to lie down."
"Oh, I think I'll take a little walk first, sweetheart," he
said, deliberately sliding open the door.
"Agent Jarod, I don't think it would be wise…," one of the security
guards started, trying to intervene, before his charge left the house.
The pretend showed no signs of cognitive recognition, as he nearly
walked over the poor man, making his way across the patio toward the
beach, suddenly falling to his knees and retching violently.
*
"Let me handle this," Andrea said, putting her hand over the
agent's mike. "He's just really upset right now," she offered,
unaware of what was happening on the beach.
"Ma'am, I can't allow you to go out there," he said,
apologetically. You're all under protective custody," he said,
checking his gun. "I'll take care of your husband."
"What are you going to do, you moron? Shoot him?" she asked
heatedly, eyeing his gun.
"Of course not, Ma'am," the young D.O.E agent said with a long sigh,
nodding to the other agent, as he headed out the sliding glass door.
"Andrea, calm down. Remember, you're with child now," Margaret
reminded her gently.
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
*
"Excuse me, ma'am, but there's a Dr. Sydney Green, wishing to
speak with you," one of the agents said, having just given the
psychiatrist clearance.
"Did you tell him to take a number?" Andrea mumbled sarcastically, as
she headed toward the foyer.
Moments later…
"Sydney, don't you have a permanent address yet?" she said, brushing
her hair away from her face.
"I'm sorry to intrude, Andrea, but Jarod left the office before I had
a chance to talk with him. I was hoping to have a word with him now,"
Sydney said, skipping the niceties, craning his neck to see if the
pretender was around.
"That's what family is for, don't you think?" she said almost
parentally, hating the frustrated expression on his face.
"Look, this really isn't a good time. You people are putting Jarod
under far too much stress. Why don't you go home and find one of your
antiquated cerebral books to wrap your brain around. Jarod is off
limits tonight."
"I see. Then he's already confided in you," he pursued,
studying her demeanor, guessing that Jarod hadn't said a word.
"Confided in me? What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly
feeling ill at ease. "I haven't really had a chance to talked to him
yet," she said, dropping the tough façade.
"Where is he?" the psychiatrist pressed. "He really shouldn't be
alone right now."
"Jarod went for a walk on the beach. Captain Kirk just went out with
his phaser to bring him back in. Sydney, what's going on?"
"I'd rather not discuss it here in the foyer, if you don't
mind."
Living room
9:55 PM
"I'm extrapolating some what, but from what I have been able to
ascertain, shortly after Jarod was kidnapped by the Centre, the
then "Dr. Raines" initiated an aggressive clandestine cloning project
code named, Gemini I. The eventual product of that endeavor, so to
speak, was a child named Hans Eichhmann, Jarod's initial clone. It's
appalling that none of us were ever told about the boy."
"My God," Andrea breathed, sinking onto the couch. "Or how many
innocent lives it took for that sick bastard to produce his clone,"
she said, recalling the horror show she saw at Donoterase. "Dear
Lord, that was several years before Jarod had executed his
initial "Cloning Sim", telling them how. Secretes and lies," Andrea
whispered.
"Somehow Raines' clone came into the possession of a German
geneticist named Antone G. Sieble, probably with certain guarantees
that he would be made available for "special projects", as needed.
Incredibly, Hans remained virtually unknown to anyone outside of
Sieble's inner circle, and later on, Lyle's covert team."
"Unknown until?"
"According to our briefing, the initial information on Hans came in
early this morning, after a series of serious security breeches on
systems around the world. Ironically, the man's location was picked
up by Jarod's tracking program."
"You've got to be kidding."
"After reviewing photographs of Hans obtained by an undisclosed
source, Agent Malone called in Jarod to run interference for them,
realizing he was the only man capable of stopping, what he thought
was his identical twin. His assignment was simple; to keep Hans
occupied on line, until they could arrange for his arrest."
"How could you have allowed Jarod to be put in a position
like that, after all he's been though? He hasn't exactly been
the "Rock of Gibraltar" these past few days."
"Frankly if it had been up to me, I would have suggested using
Michael, but unfortunately, my suggestions were counter-mannered from
the onset."
"Your husband realized, that if Hans were to successfully breached
the numerous level 5 firewalls and had found his tracking program,
the whole sting operation would have been derailed, and was convinced
by his previous actions that he would. Not to mention, that Hans
would have probably discovered your exact location, as well, which
was obviously unacceptable to him."
"You're telling me that Jarod spent the entire day, basically facing
off… with…himself," Andrea said rhetorically, closing her eyes and
shaking her head.
"Indeed. He submitted himself to substantial discomfort, driven, I
imagine, by his love for you, to keep his counter part in check. I've
never witnessed anything quite like it from Jarod before," he said
solemnly, hesitating before meeting her icy blue eyes."
"Unfortunately, when Hans was about to be apprehended, the cornered
man apparently made a last ditched effort of escape, and was gunned
down by German undercover police. Jarod, naturally, felt that it was
entirely his fault that his counter part had died, considering he'd
deliberately enticed him to stay on line."
"But, there was no way he could have known…"
"You and I realize that, but remember how Jarod thinks. To him, Hans
was like a brother he had never known. A Pretender very much a victim
of the Centre's madness as he was. I'm afraid he is experiencing a
substantial amount of guilt right now."
"There's no way Jarod is going to be able to deal with this,
Sydney, in his current state," she said closing her eyes.
"How did he re-injure his shoulder?" Major Charles asked, pressing
for more information.
"I wasn't aware that he had. Is it serious?"
"I don't really know. He wouldn't let me look at it."
"Jarod did experience a rather awkward moment," he said, biting his
lip, trying to recall the transitory occurrence. "I believe that
several minutes before we received word that Hans had transpired, he
momentarily lost his balance and fell against the chair he'd been
sitting on. He never let on, in any way, that he had re-injured
himself."
"I'd really appreciate it if you would give him a once over," his
father said worriedly, remembering his short sleeved shirt stained
with blood. "His suture kit is around here somewhere."
"Certainly," his mentor said, hating the apparent negative turn of
events.
"Jarod's been like a son to you and you just stood by and let them
use him like that? You bastard."
"Andrea, he was adamant about stopping Hans, for your safety and the
rest of the family. If there had been any way to dissuade him..."
"You should have found a way. Of all people, Sydney, you should have
found a way," Andrea said heatedly, abruptly rising from the couch
and heading toward the sliding glass door.
"Andrea, please let me help you with this," Major Charles said,
quickly cutting her off and gently grabbing her wrist before she
opened the door.
*
Patio
10:15 PM
"I thought you were going to bring Jarod back inside," Major Charles
said heatedly, as he confronted the agent leaning against the deck
rail, having a smoke. "Is this what you call doing your job?"
"Sir, he just finished puking his guts out a moment ago, then
made his way toward the tide's edge. I thought I'd give him a little
time to clean up and pull himself together, before I asked him to
come inside. My partner is covering him discretely, just up the
beach, he said nodding to the left. "I assure you, he's in no
immediate danger. You wouldn't want it to be handled any other way,
would you, Sir?"
"I see," the Major said quietly, sickened by what he had just
heard. "If you don't mind, I'd rather be the one to bring him back
in."
"I understand," he said, pressing his mike and quietly
informing his partner, that the Major was going out on the beach.
*
" Jarod," his father said gently, as he approached his son. "It's
time to come inside now. You're not going to accomplish anything
positive sitting out here in the dark," he said as he closed the gap
between the two, the warm salty water rushing over his shoes. "Dear
Lord, son, you're soaking wet," he observed sadly, as he helped the
docile man to his feet.
"I murdered a man today, dad," the pretender confessed, wobbling
slightly, so distraught he was having difficulty staying on his feet.
"No you didn't, Jarod. It wasn't your fault," Major Charles said
completely heartbroken, trying to steady his son.
"I've never known anyone more committed to saving lost souls, then
you," he said, turning to face his son. "Listen to me, Jarod,
there's no way you could have possibly known that Hans would rather
die than surrender. For the sake of Andrea and your child, you've got
to let it go."
"You don't understand," he pressed, with frightening intensity,
barely hearing what he said. "He sensed no deception from me, what so
ever, early on," he said becoming highly agitated. "I purposely
baited him to react to a maize of meaningless moves and counter
moves, until…Sydney taught me well," he said bitterly, pausing as he
struggled to reestablish his composure. "I…experienced the shear
terror and betrayal he felt the moment he died."
" Jarod. Are you trying to tell me you actually felt what he was
thinking while he was…?" he asked breaking off, frightened that his
son was losing touch with reality again. "That's impossible," he
said, openly dismissing his claim. "Son, people think a lot of crazy
things, while under extreme duress. I remember during the war…"
"No, dad, Michael and I have experienced a similar emotional link,"
he said having a moment of clarity.
Major Charles fell silent struggling to come to grips with what his
son had just said. "Come on, Jarod, we need to get you back into the
house. You'll feel better after a hot shower. By the way, Sydney's
here. Maybe we could have him take a look at your shoulder."
Living room
10:19 PM
Major Charles entered the living room supporting his son, turning
left down the narrow hall way and into the main bathroom, followed by
his anxious wife.
"Jarod, are you all right?"
"Yeah, I, um, just need to get cleaned up," he said, feeling vaguely
embarrassed, as he looked down at his dripping wet slacks covered
with sand and vomit, barely registering what was going on.
"I'll take it from here, Major," Andrea said, telling him to ask
Margaret to bring in some clothing items, his slippers, and robe.
Living room
11:22 PM
"Jarod, I was hoping to have a word with you," his psychiatrist said
insistently, as the younger man shuffled into the room.
"I, um, was just going to bed."
"You're father asked me to stay until you were available again. He's
really worried about you. We all are. Why don't we sit down and have
a little talk."
"There's nothing to discuss. A man I never knew, is dead now, because
of me. My clone. No amount of meaningless dialogue is going to bring
him back. Don't you agree?" he said smoothly, but with a definite
bitter edge.
"And what about you, Jarod? You were emotionally linked to Hans the
moment of his death. No one could experience something as horrific as
that, without serious emotional repercussions."
"My father told you that, didn't he," he said obviously extremely
aggravated, wincing slightly, as he began cradling his arm.
"No, actually you did, right after your shower. Jarod, this has far
more serious implications, than what happened between you and Daemon,
a year ago. And as I recall, that was emotionally devastating to
you," he said realizing nothing he was saying was soaking in.
"The local is wearing off now, isn't it," the doctor pointed out
trying a different tactic, hating the confused look on his face.
"Local?" Jarod questioned in a low voice, glancing at his newly
bandaged shoulder then back at his former mentor, feeling suddenly
extremely lightheaded.
"Yes, I sutured your wound for you, shortly after your shower. Don't
you remember?"
"There must be some kind of mistake," the pretender said in
confusion, feeling another anxiety attack coming on.
"Jarod, you apparently went into shock early on, after Hans' death.
I'm afraid you're far more unstable than I've seen you in quite some
time. Let me help you."
"That's impossible," he managed, barely able to make it to
the couch before the onset of another anxiety attack.
"Easy now, try and slow your breathing," Sydney coached, stepping
over to the couch.
"Damn it, I…I know what to do," Jarod said, struggling to regain his
control.
"Jarod, how much do you remember about tonight, starting from when
you arrived at home?" he asked after giving him time to compose
himself, picking up on the pretender's lack of continuity.
"Everything," the pretender lied, glaring sharply at his former
psychiatrist, emotionally unequipped to face the truth.
"I think you've overstayed your welcome," he said nervously, as he
rose to his feet, briefly closing his eyes to steady himself.
"As you wish, Jarod. Perhaps, we can continue this conversation
tomorrow," he said optimistically, eyeing his reluctant patient,
knowing he was desperately in need of help.
"By the way, I took the liberty of prescribing you with some
medication, just after our initial conversation tonight. I would
strongly advise you to consider taking it for a while," he said,
setting the bottle on the table. "You've been on it before, and it
did you substantial good."
"There's nothing wrong with me, Sydney. I just…need to get some
rest," he said, defiantly, challenging his unwelcome guest. " Don't
let the door hit you on the way out," he spit, as he turned his back
on his mentor and slowly started to make his way down the hall-way
toward the sun room.
"I realize you don't want this to be happening to you right now, but
we're not often given a choice. You mentioned you want to be strong
for your family and the child Andrea's carrying, but that's not going
to happen if you have another nervous breakdown," he said gently,
wishing there was something more that he could do to convince his
former patient to take his advice.
"Go home, Sydney."
Sydney watched the angry young man walked slowly away, painfully
aware that he was basically in complete denial. "Goodnight, Jarod."
*
Sun room
Nearly midnight.
Jarod laid down gingerly on the couch, feeling intensely alone for
the first time in quite some time. Glancing at a couple of magazines
on a near by table, he quickly lost interest and tossed them aside.
For the third time since Sydney had left him, he grudgingly picked up
the bottle of medication his former mentor had prescribed, failing to
convince himself to take a dose, hating its sedative properties and
more importantly what admitting he really needed it would mean.
"Jarod, " Andrea said, pushing the door ajar and peeking into the sun
room. "Please come to bed. I can't bare for you to be alone, knowing
all that you've been through," she said, drawing deeper into the
room.
"Andrea…" he said uncomfortably, tucking the bottle under his quilt.
"For better or worse, remember?" she said, like a gentle
taskmaster. " I don't think either one of us wants to be alone
tonight."
"I wish that were true, Andrea. But I'm not about to cause you
another sleepless night. We've already gone over that," he said
quietly, turning his gaze uncomfortably away.
"It's a classic "catch 22". You say I won't be able to get any sleep
with you and I'm positive I won't without you. Please come to bed."
Jarod, studied his lovely wife, appreciating what she was trying to
do. "You're carrying our child, sweetheart. I want you to get your
rest."
"I know, Jarod, and so do I. Please come to bed," she reiterated.
"It's a given that I'll keep you up all night."
"Don't bet on it, mister. Two words; ear plugs."
"You win," he ventured innocently, wondering if he was making the
right choice. "I'll be up in a moment. Go ahead and go back to bed."
"All right, but you better not chicken out," she warned, as she
turned and left the room.
Jarod stared at the pills again and thought of his lovely wife and
unborn child, haunted by the last thing Sydney had said to him.
Slowly, he rose from the couch and padded his way down the hallway to
the kitchen and took a dose of pain medication and the pills that
Sydney had left, hating himself for needing either one, completely
exhausted..
Upstairs bedroom
Twenty minutes later…
"Mmm, you feel so warm, Jarod," she said, breaching the gap between
the two of them, snuggling into the curve of his muscular arm.
"You have no idea how much I need you right now," the pretender
confessed, as his medication kicked in finally allowing him to begin
to relax and tentatively let down his guard.
"Hey kid, we're an unbeatable team."
"If you say so, Andi," he muttered, managing a slight smile, giving
her slender arm a gentle pat. Yawning deeply, he shifting slightly
under his covers, and gratefully fell asleep.
* * *
Ten days later…
"It was touch and go for a while, but he's doing much better now,
Broots. Thanks for asking," Andrea said with a grin, gazing out the
dinning room window, watching her husband flip burgers on the grill,
shadowed by a D.O.E. agent. " After willingly going back on his
medication and attending intensive sessions with Sydney, he's been
able to put things behind him," she said, referring to Han's death.
"That's r really good n news, Andi. I can't imagine how difficult
this has been f for you. By the way, how are you feeling?"
"Like I'm going to puke all the time. Thanks for asking."
"Oh, that can't be good," he said, nervously, happily remembering why
he was calling.
"Andi, our time table's been move up. The sting operation is in
progress as we speak. You probably should tell Jarod. He's been
hounding me about this for days, pressing for the exact time."
"I think he can wait a minute or two," she said, enjoying seeing
Jarod just being himself.
"Ma maybe you two should start planning for your "happily ever after".
"This is really hard to take in," the slender brunette said with a
grin, leaning against the back of the couch, unconsciously stroking
her sight pooch.
"I, um, know. It h has for a all of us. Once you're released from
protective custody, are you going to go back to living in your new
home?" Broots asked, hoping that they wouldn't move away.
"We haven't discussed it yet, but this is such a lovely place. I hope
he decides to stay."
"Andi, would you mind bring me out a platter…? Oh, I'm sorry," Jarod
said, stepping into the room. "I didn't realize you were on the
phone. Never mind, I'll get it myself."
It's all right honey, it's Broots. He wants to talk to you. I'll
handle the burgers," she said, proffering him the phone.
"Mr. Broots," the pretender began, slightly amused, wondering why he
would be calling in the middle of the day.
"Jarod, the um, well, the um "mouse trap" is snapping shut as we
speak, " he said with a big grin, pleased with his clever delivery.
"They moved up the date," he said tightly, hating that he had been
left out of the loop. "When will we know the final results?" Jarod
pressed in a low voice, as his pulse quicken, knowing his family's
safety hung in the balance.
"Oh, I'd say in a h…half an h..hour or so."
"Thanks, Broots," Jarod said, disconnecting the line, and heading for
the stairs.
"Where are you going, Jarod? It's almost time to eat?"
"I, um, I'll be down in a little bit" he offered, heading upstairs to
boot up his lap top, wanting to monitor the final execution of his
plan.
TBC jojarod@... Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!!
By jojarod 50
See previous disclaimers for author's notes.
D.O.E. Safe house
living room
9:39 PM…
"Jarod," Andrea called from the open stair case, her smile fading as
she got her first glimpse of her disheveled husband. "You look
exhausted, sweetheart. They shouldn't have kept you away so long,"
she said protectively, finishing the last of the stairs.
"There was, um, a lot of paperwork to fill out," he said,
distractedly studying the distance between the spindles on the
staircase. "It's late, why don't you go on back to bed," he said,
managing a slight smile, more on auto-pilot than anything else,
suddenly feeling like he was being smothered.
"I was just relaxing. It's too early to go to bed. What are you
trying to do, get rid of me?" she asked, playfully, losing her smile
realizing he was too tired to play along.
"I'm sorry, would you like for me to fix you a sandwich?…Jarod?"
"Oh, um, no thanks."
Andrea's eyes narrowed slightly, as she got a better look at him,
noticing that his eyes were unfocused and he was definitely lacking
the sharp edge she was so accustomed to.
"Bailey didn't get you out of bed just to do paperwork, did he,
Jarod? How did you get those blood stains on your shirt?"
"Come on, kid, why don't we go upstairs and play some video
games," Emily suggested, deciding it would be best for Michael to
leave the room.
"Is the sun room ready? I really need to lay down," Jarod asked
evasively, looking anxiously down the hall way, vaguely aware that he
was beginning to have an anxiety attack.
"We hadn't decided on anything yet, remember," she said gently,
stricken by his lack of mental continuity.
"Son, before you do anything, I'd like to have a look at that
shoulder."
"It's probably nothing, dad," he said, barely able to keep up with
the shifting conversations. "Let's not bother with it right now," he
managed with a polite smile, suddenly heading across the living room
toward the sliding glass door.
Andrea glanced at Major Charles, who returned a worried look.
"Jarod, where are you going? You said you wanted to lie down."
"Oh, I think I'll take a little walk first, sweetheart," he
said, deliberately sliding open the door.
"Agent Jarod, I don't think it would be wise…," one of the security
guards started, trying to intervene, before his charge left the house.
The pretend showed no signs of cognitive recognition, as he nearly
walked over the poor man, making his way across the patio toward the
beach, suddenly falling to his knees and retching violently.
*
"Let me handle this," Andrea said, putting her hand over the
agent's mike. "He's just really upset right now," she offered,
unaware of what was happening on the beach.
"Ma'am, I can't allow you to go out there," he said,
apologetically. You're all under protective custody," he said,
checking his gun. "I'll take care of your husband."
"What are you going to do, you moron? Shoot him?" she asked
heatedly, eyeing his gun.
"Of course not, Ma'am," the young D.O.E agent said with a long sigh,
nodding to the other agent, as he headed out the sliding glass door.
"Andrea, calm down. Remember, you're with child now," Margaret
reminded her gently.
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
*
"Excuse me, ma'am, but there's a Dr. Sydney Green, wishing to
speak with you," one of the agents said, having just given the
psychiatrist clearance.
"Did you tell him to take a number?" Andrea mumbled sarcastically, as
she headed toward the foyer.
Moments later…
"Sydney, don't you have a permanent address yet?" she said, brushing
her hair away from her face.
"I'm sorry to intrude, Andrea, but Jarod left the office before I had
a chance to talk with him. I was hoping to have a word with him now,"
Sydney said, skipping the niceties, craning his neck to see if the
pretender was around.
"That's what family is for, don't you think?" she said almost
parentally, hating the frustrated expression on his face.
"Look, this really isn't a good time. You people are putting Jarod
under far too much stress. Why don't you go home and find one of your
antiquated cerebral books to wrap your brain around. Jarod is off
limits tonight."
"I see. Then he's already confided in you," he pursued,
studying her demeanor, guessing that Jarod hadn't said a word.
"Confided in me? What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly
feeling ill at ease. "I haven't really had a chance to talked to him
yet," she said, dropping the tough façade.
"Where is he?" the psychiatrist pressed. "He really shouldn't be
alone right now."
"Jarod went for a walk on the beach. Captain Kirk just went out with
his phaser to bring him back in. Sydney, what's going on?"
"I'd rather not discuss it here in the foyer, if you don't
mind."
Living room
9:55 PM
"I'm extrapolating some what, but from what I have been able to
ascertain, shortly after Jarod was kidnapped by the Centre, the
then "Dr. Raines" initiated an aggressive clandestine cloning project
code named, Gemini I. The eventual product of that endeavor, so to
speak, was a child named Hans Eichhmann, Jarod's initial clone. It's
appalling that none of us were ever told about the boy."
"My God," Andrea breathed, sinking onto the couch. "Or how many
innocent lives it took for that sick bastard to produce his clone,"
she said, recalling the horror show she saw at Donoterase. "Dear
Lord, that was several years before Jarod had executed his
initial "Cloning Sim", telling them how. Secretes and lies," Andrea
whispered.
"Somehow Raines' clone came into the possession of a German
geneticist named Antone G. Sieble, probably with certain guarantees
that he would be made available for "special projects", as needed.
Incredibly, Hans remained virtually unknown to anyone outside of
Sieble's inner circle, and later on, Lyle's covert team."
"Unknown until?"
"According to our briefing, the initial information on Hans came in
early this morning, after a series of serious security breeches on
systems around the world. Ironically, the man's location was picked
up by Jarod's tracking program."
"You've got to be kidding."
"After reviewing photographs of Hans obtained by an undisclosed
source, Agent Malone called in Jarod to run interference for them,
realizing he was the only man capable of stopping, what he thought
was his identical twin. His assignment was simple; to keep Hans
occupied on line, until they could arrange for his arrest."
"How could you have allowed Jarod to be put in a position
like that, after all he's been though? He hasn't exactly been
the "Rock of Gibraltar" these past few days."
"Frankly if it had been up to me, I would have suggested using
Michael, but unfortunately, my suggestions were counter-mannered from
the onset."
"Your husband realized, that if Hans were to successfully breached
the numerous level 5 firewalls and had found his tracking program,
the whole sting operation would have been derailed, and was convinced
by his previous actions that he would. Not to mention, that Hans
would have probably discovered your exact location, as well, which
was obviously unacceptable to him."
"You're telling me that Jarod spent the entire day, basically facing
off… with…himself," Andrea said rhetorically, closing her eyes and
shaking her head.
"Indeed. He submitted himself to substantial discomfort, driven, I
imagine, by his love for you, to keep his counter part in check. I've
never witnessed anything quite like it from Jarod before," he said
solemnly, hesitating before meeting her icy blue eyes."
"Unfortunately, when Hans was about to be apprehended, the cornered
man apparently made a last ditched effort of escape, and was gunned
down by German undercover police. Jarod, naturally, felt that it was
entirely his fault that his counter part had died, considering he'd
deliberately enticed him to stay on line."
"But, there was no way he could have known…"
"You and I realize that, but remember how Jarod thinks. To him, Hans
was like a brother he had never known. A Pretender very much a victim
of the Centre's madness as he was. I'm afraid he is experiencing a
substantial amount of guilt right now."
"There's no way Jarod is going to be able to deal with this,
Sydney, in his current state," she said closing her eyes.
"How did he re-injure his shoulder?" Major Charles asked, pressing
for more information.
"I wasn't aware that he had. Is it serious?"
"I don't really know. He wouldn't let me look at it."
"Jarod did experience a rather awkward moment," he said, biting his
lip, trying to recall the transitory occurrence. "I believe that
several minutes before we received word that Hans had transpired, he
momentarily lost his balance and fell against the chair he'd been
sitting on. He never let on, in any way, that he had re-injured
himself."
"I'd really appreciate it if you would give him a once over," his
father said worriedly, remembering his short sleeved shirt stained
with blood. "His suture kit is around here somewhere."
"Certainly," his mentor said, hating the apparent negative turn of
events.
"Jarod's been like a son to you and you just stood by and let them
use him like that? You bastard."
"Andrea, he was adamant about stopping Hans, for your safety and the
rest of the family. If there had been any way to dissuade him..."
"You should have found a way. Of all people, Sydney, you should have
found a way," Andrea said heatedly, abruptly rising from the couch
and heading toward the sliding glass door.
"Andrea, please let me help you with this," Major Charles said,
quickly cutting her off and gently grabbing her wrist before she
opened the door.
*
Patio
10:15 PM
"I thought you were going to bring Jarod back inside," Major Charles
said heatedly, as he confronted the agent leaning against the deck
rail, having a smoke. "Is this what you call doing your job?"
"Sir, he just finished puking his guts out a moment ago, then
made his way toward the tide's edge. I thought I'd give him a little
time to clean up and pull himself together, before I asked him to
come inside. My partner is covering him discretely, just up the
beach, he said nodding to the left. "I assure you, he's in no
immediate danger. You wouldn't want it to be handled any other way,
would you, Sir?"
"I see," the Major said quietly, sickened by what he had just
heard. "If you don't mind, I'd rather be the one to bring him back
in."
"I understand," he said, pressing his mike and quietly
informing his partner, that the Major was going out on the beach.
*
" Jarod," his father said gently, as he approached his son. "It's
time to come inside now. You're not going to accomplish anything
positive sitting out here in the dark," he said as he closed the gap
between the two, the warm salty water rushing over his shoes. "Dear
Lord, son, you're soaking wet," he observed sadly, as he helped the
docile man to his feet.
"I murdered a man today, dad," the pretender confessed, wobbling
slightly, so distraught he was having difficulty staying on his feet.
"No you didn't, Jarod. It wasn't your fault," Major Charles said
completely heartbroken, trying to steady his son.
"I've never known anyone more committed to saving lost souls, then
you," he said, turning to face his son. "Listen to me, Jarod,
there's no way you could have possibly known that Hans would rather
die than surrender. For the sake of Andrea and your child, you've got
to let it go."
"You don't understand," he pressed, with frightening intensity,
barely hearing what he said. "He sensed no deception from me, what so
ever, early on," he said becoming highly agitated. "I purposely
baited him to react to a maize of meaningless moves and counter
moves, until…Sydney taught me well," he said bitterly, pausing as he
struggled to reestablish his composure. "I…experienced the shear
terror and betrayal he felt the moment he died."
" Jarod. Are you trying to tell me you actually felt what he was
thinking while he was…?" he asked breaking off, frightened that his
son was losing touch with reality again. "That's impossible," he
said, openly dismissing his claim. "Son, people think a lot of crazy
things, while under extreme duress. I remember during the war…"
"No, dad, Michael and I have experienced a similar emotional link,"
he said having a moment of clarity.
Major Charles fell silent struggling to come to grips with what his
son had just said. "Come on, Jarod, we need to get you back into the
house. You'll feel better after a hot shower. By the way, Sydney's
here. Maybe we could have him take a look at your shoulder."
Living room
10:19 PM
Major Charles entered the living room supporting his son, turning
left down the narrow hall way and into the main bathroom, followed by
his anxious wife.
"Jarod, are you all right?"
"Yeah, I, um, just need to get cleaned up," he said, feeling vaguely
embarrassed, as he looked down at his dripping wet slacks covered
with sand and vomit, barely registering what was going on.
"I'll take it from here, Major," Andrea said, telling him to ask
Margaret to bring in some clothing items, his slippers, and robe.
Living room
11:22 PM
"Jarod, I was hoping to have a word with you," his psychiatrist said
insistently, as the younger man shuffled into the room.
"I, um, was just going to bed."
"You're father asked me to stay until you were available again. He's
really worried about you. We all are. Why don't we sit down and have
a little talk."
"There's nothing to discuss. A man I never knew, is dead now, because
of me. My clone. No amount of meaningless dialogue is going to bring
him back. Don't you agree?" he said smoothly, but with a definite
bitter edge.
"And what about you, Jarod? You were emotionally linked to Hans the
moment of his death. No one could experience something as horrific as
that, without serious emotional repercussions."
"My father told you that, didn't he," he said obviously extremely
aggravated, wincing slightly, as he began cradling his arm.
"No, actually you did, right after your shower. Jarod, this has far
more serious implications, than what happened between you and Daemon,
a year ago. And as I recall, that was emotionally devastating to
you," he said realizing nothing he was saying was soaking in.
"The local is wearing off now, isn't it," the doctor pointed out
trying a different tactic, hating the confused look on his face.
"Local?" Jarod questioned in a low voice, glancing at his newly
bandaged shoulder then back at his former mentor, feeling suddenly
extremely lightheaded.
"Yes, I sutured your wound for you, shortly after your shower. Don't
you remember?"
"There must be some kind of mistake," the pretender said in
confusion, feeling another anxiety attack coming on.
"Jarod, you apparently went into shock early on, after Hans' death.
I'm afraid you're far more unstable than I've seen you in quite some
time. Let me help you."
"That's impossible," he managed, barely able to make it to
the couch before the onset of another anxiety attack.
"Easy now, try and slow your breathing," Sydney coached, stepping
over to the couch.
"Damn it, I…I know what to do," Jarod said, struggling to regain his
control.
"Jarod, how much do you remember about tonight, starting from when
you arrived at home?" he asked after giving him time to compose
himself, picking up on the pretender's lack of continuity.
"Everything," the pretender lied, glaring sharply at his former
psychiatrist, emotionally unequipped to face the truth.
"I think you've overstayed your welcome," he said nervously, as he
rose to his feet, briefly closing his eyes to steady himself.
"As you wish, Jarod. Perhaps, we can continue this conversation
tomorrow," he said optimistically, eyeing his reluctant patient,
knowing he was desperately in need of help.
"By the way, I took the liberty of prescribing you with some
medication, just after our initial conversation tonight. I would
strongly advise you to consider taking it for a while," he said,
setting the bottle on the table. "You've been on it before, and it
did you substantial good."
"There's nothing wrong with me, Sydney. I just…need to get some
rest," he said, defiantly, challenging his unwelcome guest. " Don't
let the door hit you on the way out," he spit, as he turned his back
on his mentor and slowly started to make his way down the hall-way
toward the sun room.
"I realize you don't want this to be happening to you right now, but
we're not often given a choice. You mentioned you want to be strong
for your family and the child Andrea's carrying, but that's not going
to happen if you have another nervous breakdown," he said gently,
wishing there was something more that he could do to convince his
former patient to take his advice.
"Go home, Sydney."
Sydney watched the angry young man walked slowly away, painfully
aware that he was basically in complete denial. "Goodnight, Jarod."
*
Sun room
Nearly midnight.
Jarod laid down gingerly on the couch, feeling intensely alone for
the first time in quite some time. Glancing at a couple of magazines
on a near by table, he quickly lost interest and tossed them aside.
For the third time since Sydney had left him, he grudgingly picked up
the bottle of medication his former mentor had prescribed, failing to
convince himself to take a dose, hating its sedative properties and
more importantly what admitting he really needed it would mean.
"Jarod, " Andrea said, pushing the door ajar and peeking into the sun
room. "Please come to bed. I can't bare for you to be alone, knowing
all that you've been through," she said, drawing deeper into the
room.
"Andrea…" he said uncomfortably, tucking the bottle under his quilt.
"For better or worse, remember?" she said, like a gentle
taskmaster. " I don't think either one of us wants to be alone
tonight."
"I wish that were true, Andrea. But I'm not about to cause you
another sleepless night. We've already gone over that," he said
quietly, turning his gaze uncomfortably away.
"It's a classic "catch 22". You say I won't be able to get any sleep
with you and I'm positive I won't without you. Please come to bed."
Jarod, studied his lovely wife, appreciating what she was trying to
do. "You're carrying our child, sweetheart. I want you to get your
rest."
"I know, Jarod, and so do I. Please come to bed," she reiterated.
"It's a given that I'll keep you up all night."
"Don't bet on it, mister. Two words; ear plugs."
"You win," he ventured innocently, wondering if he was making the
right choice. "I'll be up in a moment. Go ahead and go back to bed."
"All right, but you better not chicken out," she warned, as she
turned and left the room.
Jarod stared at the pills again and thought of his lovely wife and
unborn child, haunted by the last thing Sydney had said to him.
Slowly, he rose from the couch and padded his way down the hallway to
the kitchen and took a dose of pain medication and the pills that
Sydney had left, hating himself for needing either one, completely
exhausted..
Upstairs bedroom
Twenty minutes later…
"Mmm, you feel so warm, Jarod," she said, breaching the gap between
the two of them, snuggling into the curve of his muscular arm.
"You have no idea how much I need you right now," the pretender
confessed, as his medication kicked in finally allowing him to begin
to relax and tentatively let down his guard.
"Hey kid, we're an unbeatable team."
"If you say so, Andi," he muttered, managing a slight smile, giving
her slender arm a gentle pat. Yawning deeply, he shifting slightly
under his covers, and gratefully fell asleep.
* * *
Ten days later…
"It was touch and go for a while, but he's doing much better now,
Broots. Thanks for asking," Andrea said with a grin, gazing out the
dinning room window, watching her husband flip burgers on the grill,
shadowed by a D.O.E. agent. " After willingly going back on his
medication and attending intensive sessions with Sydney, he's been
able to put things behind him," she said, referring to Han's death.
"That's r really good n news, Andi. I can't imagine how difficult
this has been f for you. By the way, how are you feeling?"
"Like I'm going to puke all the time. Thanks for asking."
"Oh, that can't be good," he said, nervously, happily remembering why
he was calling.
"Andi, our time table's been move up. The sting operation is in
progress as we speak. You probably should tell Jarod. He's been
hounding me about this for days, pressing for the exact time."
"I think he can wait a minute or two," she said, enjoying seeing
Jarod just being himself.
"Ma maybe you two should start planning for your "happily ever after".
"This is really hard to take in," the slender brunette said with a
grin, leaning against the back of the couch, unconsciously stroking
her sight pooch.
"I, um, know. It h has for a all of us. Once you're released from
protective custody, are you going to go back to living in your new
home?" Broots asked, hoping that they wouldn't move away.
"We haven't discussed it yet, but this is such a lovely place. I hope
he decides to stay."
"Andi, would you mind bring me out a platter…? Oh, I'm sorry," Jarod
said, stepping into the room. "I didn't realize you were on the
phone. Never mind, I'll get it myself."
It's all right honey, it's Broots. He wants to talk to you. I'll
handle the burgers," she said, proffering him the phone.
"Mr. Broots," the pretender began, slightly amused, wondering why he
would be calling in the middle of the day.
"Jarod, the um, well, the um "mouse trap" is snapping shut as we
speak, " he said with a big grin, pleased with his clever delivery.
"They moved up the date," he said tightly, hating that he had been
left out of the loop. "When will we know the final results?" Jarod
pressed in a low voice, as his pulse quicken, knowing his family's
safety hung in the balance.
"Oh, I'd say in a h…half an h..hour or so."
"Thanks, Broots," Jarod said, disconnecting the line, and heading for
the stairs.
"Where are you going, Jarod? It's almost time to eat?"
"I, um, I'll be down in a little bit" he offered, heading upstairs to
boot up his lap top, wanting to monitor the final execution of his
plan.
TBC jojarod@... Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!!
