Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. If I owed them we'd still be watching new episodes.
One Good Turn Part 4
Reactions
By Phenyx
A pounding on his front door roused Sydney from a light slumber. Rising groggily from the over- stuffed easy chair where he had fallen into a light sleep, he glanced at his watch and frowned at the lateness of the hour. Having worked at The Centre for so many years, Sydney had become accustomed to late night visitors. But rarely were such visitors a welcome occurrence in his home.
Sydney was standing in the hallway, warily studying the closed door and pondering his options when the rapid pounding resumed.
"Open up, Syd." Miss Parker's muffled voice filtered through the panel. "Open this door, right now!"
The angry tone in Parker's voice made Sydney sigh regretfully. He had known this was coming. He had known since Parker had left the office earlier this evening with the two silver disks. There had been little that Sydney could do to prevent it. Straightening his shoulders resolutely, he reached for the doorknob and prepared himself for Miss Parker's wrath.
The entrance had opened mere inches when Parker grabbed the edge with one hand and rammed her shoulder forcefully against the other side. The door flew open, knocking Sydney aside. Parker stormed in, fury written across her face.
Sydney had only enough time to blurt out her name, "Parker." He didn't get any further.
Miss Parker's movements were as quick and smooth as fluid lightning. One manicured hand flashed in front of Sydney's face and he suddenly found himself on the floor, rubbing at his stinging jaw. Looking up, Sydney stared straight down the barrel of Parker's handgun.
Parker's face was wild with anger. She growled at him, her voice dripping with animosity. "You lying bastard. I should shoot you right now."
"Miss Parker." Sydney said in his softly soothing voice.
"No!" She yelled. "None of your smooth talk. No more of your lies!"
"You've seen the recording of my visit with Jarod." Sydney said simply.
Stomping her foot like a petulant child, Parker cried sarcastically, "Brilliant deduction, Doctor! However did you come to that conclusion?"
The two of them stared silently at each other for a moment. Sydney sprawled on the ground at Parker's feet as she pointed her pistol at him unwaveringly.
"Sydney," Parker finally hissed. "How could you? He trusts you."
"I didn't know what lies Lyle had told Jarod." Sydney began carefully. "I was worried. I needed to see him. To find out if he was still alive."
The arm holding the gun lowered slowly but the look on Parker's face remained hard.
Sydney continued. "Your accident had left you terribly ill and bed-ridden for weeks. Jarod had gone into that frigid water too, you know. I needed to know that he was all right." The older man shrugged ruefully. "When Lyle offered me the chance to see Jarod, I took it. All I had to do was agree with whatever Lyle said. I would have done anything to get to Jarod. I'd have sold my soul if that is what it would take."
Parker shook her head sadly. "You sold your soul a long, long time ago, Syd." She said.
With the gun hanging limply in one hand at her side, Parker leaned her back dejectedly against the wall. Running her other hand anxiously through her hair, Parker's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "He trusts you, Sydney." She whispered.
Sydney rose cautiously to his feet. "I thought that once I had seen Jarod, once I knew his location, I could go back to him later and tell him the truth. But, by the time I could sneak back down there, Lyle had moved him."
"You should have told me." Parker moaned angrily. "We've been looking for him for more than a week and you never once mentioned that you had seen him. You never said anything about Jarod believing that I was dead."
"Why does it matter, Miss Parker?" Sydney asked in a near whisper. "Why has Jarod reacted so badly to the news of your death?"
Miss Parker frowned. "What do you mean, badly?" she snapped.
Sydney rubbed one hand across his face in dismay. "You haven't seen the rest of the disk." He stated knowingly. "You just rushed straight over here to deck me with your right cross."
"You deserved it." Parker said harshly.
"Probably." Sydney admitted. "But I only did what I though was best."
"For whom?" Parker cried.
"For Jarod, of course." Sydney yelled back.
Parker shook her head morosely. "How am I supposed to believe you, Syd? I can never tell which side you're on."
"I'm on which ever side will keep him alive." Sydney said seriously. "Preferably alive and well, but I'll settle for alive."
Parker glared at him uncertainly.
"Miss Parker," Sydney soothed. "I think you had better watch the rest of the recordings. I don't think we have much time left."
Parker straightened with concern at Sydney's statement. "What do you know about it, Syd?" she asked. "Have you seen him again?"
Sydney shook his head. "Broots knew that we would both want to see those disks. Before giving them to you, he made a second copy for me."
Sydney walked passed Parker and into the den where his own DSA player sat upon his desk. Standing alone in the hallway, Parker hesitated for a moment. But curiosity and concern finally overcame her anger. With a huff of frustration, she stomped after the older man in irritation.
Sydney turned on the power to the viewing device and motioned for Parker to sit in the chair positioned beside the desk. Parker glared at him in animosity. The fact that she still held her gun in one hand was not lost on Sydney.
Rather than wait for Parker to sit, Sydney simply reached out, turned on the view screen, and set the play back to a specified time frame. An image of Jarod appeared. Sprawled spread eagle on the floor of his cell, Jarod stared sightlessly at the ceiling. As Parker slid into the chair to watch the recording, Lyle entered the room alone. Jarod didn't react to the other man's presence at all.
Lying motionless, Jarod allowed Lyle to administer another dose of narcotics. Without so much as a whimper, Jarod ignored Lyle's presence completely.
Looking down at the pretender's inert form, Lyle sighed and said, "I'm sure she doesn't blame you, Jarod." Lyle shrugged. "Okay, maybe she does blame you a bit, but not entirely." He added cruelly.
Jarod seemed not hear anything. He did not respond in any way so Lyle simply left.
A similar scene repeated itself for the next day or so. At regular intervals, Lyle would enter the room with his syringe, crouch on the floor beside the unmoving pretender and give him a shot. After some snide remark, Lyle would leave the room.
Jarod barely even blinked. Food and water was left untouched on the trays brought in by Mr. Lyle. Eventually, Lyle brought the sweepers with him and the two bigger men dragged Jarod away to a new location, dumping him unceremoniously on a cot in the new room.
"He's not looking too good." One of the guards said.
Lyle glared at the big man. "I pay you not to look so closely at things Simmons. Mind your own damned business." He growled.
But watching the image on Sydney's DSA viewer, Parker had to agree with the sweeper. Jarod, heavily under the influence of the drugs Lyle had just given him, did look rather ill. His eyelids fluttered over glazed, deeply stoned eyes. His skin had taken on the sunken, unhealthy pallor of a malnourished street addict. Jarod's lips were dry and cracked, giving evidence that his body was badly dehydrated.
Lyle frowned at the lump of flesh lying in the cot and shook his head in frustration. "Get out." He snarled at the two sweepers. The men quickly left with Lyle following closely.
Lyle returned to the room shortly afterward. This time Mr. Raines, slowly hauling his squeaking oxygen tank, accompanied Lyle into the room. The two men stared down at Jarod for several moments. Raines grasped the pretender's wrist between his fingertips and stared at his watch in silence.
"His pulse is thready. He has a low grade fever." Raines wheezed. Glaring up at Lyle he asked, "How long has it been since he's eaten anything?"
Lyle shrugged. "A few days I guess." Lyle spoke quickly in his own defense. "Hey, I've brought his meals every day. You can't blame me if he refuses to eat that slop."
Raines shook his head. "You are supposed to encourage him toward more submissive behavior, Lyle. Killing him was not part of the objective at this point." Raines sighed heavily. "Force feed him." He ordered coldly then Raines turned and left the room.
Parker watched in horrified shock as Lyle brought several orderlies dressed in white into the room. While two of the white clad men held Jarod down, another forced a tube down the motionless pretender's throat. Parker winced when she heard the gagging sounds Jarod made as he was intubated. Feeding him as though he was a coma patient, a large syringe filled with gelatinous goop was attached to the end and pumped into Jarod's stomach through the tube.
Jarod's back arched and his hands clawed at the mattress beneath him as the tubing was then yanked back out of his body.
"Oh god." Parker moaned softly. "He's conscious." She whispered. "He knows exactly what they are doing to him."
Sydney gently placed a hand on her shoulder and the two observers shared a look of appalled dismay.
The orderlies placed an I.V. in Jarod's arm and started the drip that would re-hydrate him. Once that had been completed, the entire group left the room. When Jarod's chest heaved with a forlorn sigh, Parker could not hold back her own tears any longer. Silent drops rolled down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away.
The ghastly force-feeding drill continued, twice a day for the next two days. Still, Jarod refused to respond to Lyle in any way. On the third day, when the team came with the tubing, Lyle stood above Jarod and waggled the narcotic filled syringe before him.
"If you want this, Jarod." Lyle purred. "You will stop this nonsense and eat on your own."
Jarod stared blankly at the ceiling.
Lyle raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Are you sure? I think that you may be wanting this pretty badly in a few hours." He said.
With no response from Jarod, Lyle shrugged and said, "Very well." He placed the syringe into his jacket pocket and nodded curtly at the team of orderlies. Within minutes, the tube had been shoved down Jarod's throat and the nutritional supplement had been administered. A gagging, choking sound followed as the tube was removed.
Several hours later, Lyle again stood over Jarod's bed. Jarod's body was wracked with the obvious signs of drug withdrawal. His hands were trembling and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. Jarod's face contorted in a grimace as convulsive pains gripped him.
"You know the deal, Jarod." Lyle said in a singsong voice. "If you want the reward you must first do as I say."
Jarod, shivering and tight-lipped, gave no response.
"Fine." Lyle said.
As Mr. Lyle turned toward the door to call in the orderlies, Jarod abruptly moved. In flash of motion astounding for someone in his condition, Jarod suddenly rose from the bed and slammed into Lyle. The I.V. tubing attached to Jarod's arm snapped from the bottom of the plastic bag that hung from the stand and saline solution began spraying across the floor.
Jarod pushed Lyle against the wall and brought his knee into Lyle's midsection with a grinding force. As Lyle bent over in a whoosh of pain, Jarod slid behind him. Grabbing the I.V. tube that dangled from his own arm, Jarod wrapped the plastic garrote around Lyle's throat and started to pull it tightly. Gripping Lyle in a deadly embrace, Jarod backed into the far corner of the room, keeping his prisoner's body between him and the stunned orderlies.
Moments later, the two sweepers burst into the room, guns pointed at Jarod while Lyle gasped for air in the pretender's arms. With a disgusted heave, Jarod released Lyle without warning. Lyle lay in a twisted, rasping pile on the floor, the plastic tubing still wrapped around his neck at one end and attached to Jarod's forearm at the other.
With a grin of triumph, Jarod held the drug filled syringe from Lyle's pocket in one hand. Before the sweepers could jump him, Jarod flipped the plastic cover off of the needle, turned the point on himself and rammed it into his stomach. He pressed the plunger with his thumb just as one of the sweepers knocked him to the ground.
Parker didn't see anymore of the video. Horrified at the scene she had just witnessed, Parker sprang from the chair. Wide-eyed and frightened, she stared at Sydney in gasping desperation. "Oh my god. Oh my god." She whispered over and over. She backed away from the older man in irrational fear as he tried to comfort her.
"Sydney." She pleaded. "What? How?" Bright spots began flashing across Parker's vision and with a cry of tortured anguish she let the panic overcome her.
Later, Parker would not remember fleeing from Sydney's house. Nor would she ever be able to recall the frenzied drive through darkened streets. Moving on instinct alone, Parker did not regain control of her senses until nearly an hour later, when she found herself cowering alone in an alcove in one of the hallways at The Centre.
Her face was wet with tears and she was shivering uncontrollably. Disoriented at first, it took a few moments for Parker to determine her location. She was in a deserted hallway on SL-24. What she was doing here or how she had gotten there she did not know. Closing her eyes, she took several deep, calming breaths.
Her head ached. Parker rubbed at her temples wearily. There was a migraine building behind her eyes. She could feel it. Frowning, she glanced up and down the dimly lit hallway. Leaning her head back against the wall for a moment, she felt her gaze drawn to the unmarked door directly across from her. The longer Parker stared at the door, the more strongly it pulled at her.
Finally her curiosity got the best of her. Parker pushed away from the wall and scooted out of her hiding place. Looking around furtively, she tiptoed toward the door. Testing the knob, she found that it was locked as expected. Most doors at The Centre were locked these days. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Parker felt through her hair and quickly found a hairpin. She looked around again before she knelt at the lock.
At this late hour, Parker didn't expect many people on this level, but she still tried to hurry as she picked the lock. Within a minute, she heard a soft click, twisted the knob and slid into the room.
The room wasn't large but a wall of steel bars had been erected across the center of the room creating a prison cell on one side. Lying in a crumbled pile inside the cell was a bruised and battered pretender that Parker barely recognized as Jarod.
Parker walked gingerly across the room and slid to her knees at the bars of the cell. "Oh, Jarod." She whispered sadly. "What have they done to you?"
Sprawled unconscious on his back, one of Jarod's hands was flung out to his side. Parker pressed her cheek against the steel bars and reached between them to grasp the limp hand.
"Jarod?" Parker called to him softly. She squeezed his fingers more tightly with her own and was rewarded with a fluttering of his eyelids. "Jarod." She repeated more firmly.
Jarod blinked and rolled his head toward Parker. Glazed, bloodshot eyes focused blearily on her. His lips trembled into a weak but sorrowful smile.
Parker smiled back. "Hey there." She said tearfully.
"Hey." He croaked.
For a long minute they just smiled tremulously at one another. Then Jarod's eyes filled with tears and he whispered fervently, "I miss you."
"I'm right here." Parker told him.
"I'm so sorry" Jarod sobbed suddenly.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Jarod. You'll figure a way out of this. You'll be okay." Parker tried to reassure him.
"I miss you." He whispered again. "I wish you were really here."
Parker blinked in surprise as she realized that Jarod believed he was talking to a figment of his imagination. "I am here, really."
Jarod rolled onto his side and clasped Parker's hand between both his own. Rubbing his stubble covered cheek against her knuckles he sighed sadly. "Promise me, Miss Parker. Promise that you will always haunt my dreams."
Tears ran down Parker's cheeks as she tried unsuccessfully to reach Jarod's drug fogged mind. "You are not dreaming." She told him.
"Haunt my dreams, Miss Parker." Jarod begged. "And I will sleep. Sleep forever and ever."
Curling into a ball, Jarod continued to mumble incoherently as he wrapped his body around their clasped hands. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, Parker shook his shoulder frantically. So intent was she on rousing the pretender that she didn't register another presence in the room until a hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
Flinching away in surprise, Parker gasped and fumbled for her gun only to discover that she had abandoned it at Sydney's house. Thinking that she was done for, Parker sighed in relief when she looked up and saw Angelo crouching down beside her. Pressed against the wall beside the door stood Broots, staring at Parker with the same look of shock and disbelief that she was giving him.
"What are you two doing here?" Parker hissed.
"I, I wanted. We were just." Broots stuttered.
"Out with it you moron," Parker growled. "Don't you know how dangerous this is?"
Broots looked at Miss Parker with a frown. He wondered briefly if she had any idea how bizarre she looked. Kneeling on the floor like a nun before an altar, she glared up at him with fire in her ice blue eyes and the shiny wetness of tears on her cheeks.
It was Angelo who spoke, breaking the tension of the odd moment. "We go now." Angelo said, placing his hand on Parker's shoulder again. The strange man looked at Parker with an intensity that made her shiver. "We all go. Now."
Parker glanced up at Broots in confusion. "What's going on?" She asked.
"I'm sorry, Miss Parker." Broots said nervously. "I can't, in good conscience, stand by and let this happen anymore." Moving across the room to the cell door, Broots magically produced a key that he inserted into the lock. A moment later, the barred door opened.
Angelo hurried to Broots' side and the two men hauled Jarod to his feet. Parker watched them as they half dragged half carried the pretender out of the cell.
"Come," Angelo said to Miss Parker. "We go now. Quickly."
Parker scrambled to her feet and rushed to the outer door. Opening it slightly, she peered into the hallway to be sure that no one was about. Turning to the men behind her, she nodded once and slipped into the corridor. As they rounded a turn in the hall, Angelo switched places with Miss Parker. She helped drag Jarod through the gloom as Angelo led the small group on a convoluted maze of passageways.
Panting with exertion, Parker glanced at Broots with concern. "What about Debbie?" she asked him as they waited for Angelo to check the next corridor.
Broots shrugged uncomfortably. "She and I had a long talk last night. She's thirteen now. I figured she had the right to know what kind of danger I was putting her in just by coming to work every day." Angelo waved them on and the quartet resumed their agonizingly slow journey through the sub-levels.
"She's the one who told me that it was time to leave." Broots said with pride.
Parker shook her head in astonishment. "She's a good kid."
Broots nodded. "We're going to get out of here and start a new life somewhere." He vowed. "Somewhere safe."
Parker kept her doubts to herself. They followed Angelo through parts of The Centre that Parker didn't recognize. These passages had never been on any blueprint she had ever seen. She didn't even know that these areas had existed.
After what seemed an eternity of hauling Jarod through dark tunnels, Angelo finally led them into the fresh air through a storm drain. Easily pushing aside the grate that covered the pipe, Angelo hopped to the grass and turned to help Broots and Parker lower Jarod out of the opening.
"Hurry!" Angelo whispered frantically as they stumbled across an open field. Parker felt the other man's anxiety grow and adrenaline surged through her.
They reached a nearby copse of trees where Broots then led them to a delivery van hidden amongst the brush. The engine was idling and the door opened as they approached.
Broots' daughter, Debbie was crouched inside the van. The girl's eyes were wide with fear and apprehension.
They all clambered into the vehicle. Laying Jarod down as gently as they could, Broots hopped behind the steering wheel, put the van in gear and drove away from The Centre.
"I'm glad you're coming with us Miss Parker." Debbie said softly.
Parker cast a tentative smile at the girl, trying to reassure her. Debbie motioned toward the still form at her feet. "Is he alright?" Debbie asked.
Parker shook her head sadly. "No." She answered. "He isn't." Debbie produced a warm blanket from a pile nearby and together Parker and the girl tucked the soft wool around Jarod.
The van seemed to be a delivery truck of some sort. There were the two front seats and a long bench seat situated behind those. The rest of the area was open cargo space and had been carpeted with blankets and several pillows. Two large duffel bags were stacked against one wall.
Angelo huddled on the floor between the front seats and the bench, while Parker and Debbie sat in the cargo area with Jarod unconscious beside them. They had only driven for only a few miles, when Broots suddenly asked, "Miss Parker? What will happen to Sydney?"
Parker looked down at Jarod with a frown. "I don't know." She said softly.
Angelo's head popped up over the back of the seat. "Sydney, too. Be safe together."
Parker was surprised to realize that she understood the strange man's meaning. "I'm not sure that's a good idea Angelo." She said. "Can we really trust him?"
Angelo nodded his head vigorously. "We ALL go now." He said.
Parker shrugged. She was in this way over her head anyway. She was on the run with nothing but the clothes on her back. What difference would one more fugitive make in this oddball little crew? Besides, a stop at the psychiatrist's house would at least give Parker the chance to retrieve her gun.
"You heard the man, Broots." Parker sighed. "Swing by Syd's place and then we get the hell out of Dodge."
One Good Turn Part 4
Reactions
By Phenyx
A pounding on his front door roused Sydney from a light slumber. Rising groggily from the over- stuffed easy chair where he had fallen into a light sleep, he glanced at his watch and frowned at the lateness of the hour. Having worked at The Centre for so many years, Sydney had become accustomed to late night visitors. But rarely were such visitors a welcome occurrence in his home.
Sydney was standing in the hallway, warily studying the closed door and pondering his options when the rapid pounding resumed.
"Open up, Syd." Miss Parker's muffled voice filtered through the panel. "Open this door, right now!"
The angry tone in Parker's voice made Sydney sigh regretfully. He had known this was coming. He had known since Parker had left the office earlier this evening with the two silver disks. There had been little that Sydney could do to prevent it. Straightening his shoulders resolutely, he reached for the doorknob and prepared himself for Miss Parker's wrath.
The entrance had opened mere inches when Parker grabbed the edge with one hand and rammed her shoulder forcefully against the other side. The door flew open, knocking Sydney aside. Parker stormed in, fury written across her face.
Sydney had only enough time to blurt out her name, "Parker." He didn't get any further.
Miss Parker's movements were as quick and smooth as fluid lightning. One manicured hand flashed in front of Sydney's face and he suddenly found himself on the floor, rubbing at his stinging jaw. Looking up, Sydney stared straight down the barrel of Parker's handgun.
Parker's face was wild with anger. She growled at him, her voice dripping with animosity. "You lying bastard. I should shoot you right now."
"Miss Parker." Sydney said in his softly soothing voice.
"No!" She yelled. "None of your smooth talk. No more of your lies!"
"You've seen the recording of my visit with Jarod." Sydney said simply.
Stomping her foot like a petulant child, Parker cried sarcastically, "Brilliant deduction, Doctor! However did you come to that conclusion?"
The two of them stared silently at each other for a moment. Sydney sprawled on the ground at Parker's feet as she pointed her pistol at him unwaveringly.
"Sydney," Parker finally hissed. "How could you? He trusts you."
"I didn't know what lies Lyle had told Jarod." Sydney began carefully. "I was worried. I needed to see him. To find out if he was still alive."
The arm holding the gun lowered slowly but the look on Parker's face remained hard.
Sydney continued. "Your accident had left you terribly ill and bed-ridden for weeks. Jarod had gone into that frigid water too, you know. I needed to know that he was all right." The older man shrugged ruefully. "When Lyle offered me the chance to see Jarod, I took it. All I had to do was agree with whatever Lyle said. I would have done anything to get to Jarod. I'd have sold my soul if that is what it would take."
Parker shook her head sadly. "You sold your soul a long, long time ago, Syd." She said.
With the gun hanging limply in one hand at her side, Parker leaned her back dejectedly against the wall. Running her other hand anxiously through her hair, Parker's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "He trusts you, Sydney." She whispered.
Sydney rose cautiously to his feet. "I thought that once I had seen Jarod, once I knew his location, I could go back to him later and tell him the truth. But, by the time I could sneak back down there, Lyle had moved him."
"You should have told me." Parker moaned angrily. "We've been looking for him for more than a week and you never once mentioned that you had seen him. You never said anything about Jarod believing that I was dead."
"Why does it matter, Miss Parker?" Sydney asked in a near whisper. "Why has Jarod reacted so badly to the news of your death?"
Miss Parker frowned. "What do you mean, badly?" she snapped.
Sydney rubbed one hand across his face in dismay. "You haven't seen the rest of the disk." He stated knowingly. "You just rushed straight over here to deck me with your right cross."
"You deserved it." Parker said harshly.
"Probably." Sydney admitted. "But I only did what I though was best."
"For whom?" Parker cried.
"For Jarod, of course." Sydney yelled back.
Parker shook her head morosely. "How am I supposed to believe you, Syd? I can never tell which side you're on."
"I'm on which ever side will keep him alive." Sydney said seriously. "Preferably alive and well, but I'll settle for alive."
Parker glared at him uncertainly.
"Miss Parker," Sydney soothed. "I think you had better watch the rest of the recordings. I don't think we have much time left."
Parker straightened with concern at Sydney's statement. "What do you know about it, Syd?" she asked. "Have you seen him again?"
Sydney shook his head. "Broots knew that we would both want to see those disks. Before giving them to you, he made a second copy for me."
Sydney walked passed Parker and into the den where his own DSA player sat upon his desk. Standing alone in the hallway, Parker hesitated for a moment. But curiosity and concern finally overcame her anger. With a huff of frustration, she stomped after the older man in irritation.
Sydney turned on the power to the viewing device and motioned for Parker to sit in the chair positioned beside the desk. Parker glared at him in animosity. The fact that she still held her gun in one hand was not lost on Sydney.
Rather than wait for Parker to sit, Sydney simply reached out, turned on the view screen, and set the play back to a specified time frame. An image of Jarod appeared. Sprawled spread eagle on the floor of his cell, Jarod stared sightlessly at the ceiling. As Parker slid into the chair to watch the recording, Lyle entered the room alone. Jarod didn't react to the other man's presence at all.
Lying motionless, Jarod allowed Lyle to administer another dose of narcotics. Without so much as a whimper, Jarod ignored Lyle's presence completely.
Looking down at the pretender's inert form, Lyle sighed and said, "I'm sure she doesn't blame you, Jarod." Lyle shrugged. "Okay, maybe she does blame you a bit, but not entirely." He added cruelly.
Jarod seemed not hear anything. He did not respond in any way so Lyle simply left.
A similar scene repeated itself for the next day or so. At regular intervals, Lyle would enter the room with his syringe, crouch on the floor beside the unmoving pretender and give him a shot. After some snide remark, Lyle would leave the room.
Jarod barely even blinked. Food and water was left untouched on the trays brought in by Mr. Lyle. Eventually, Lyle brought the sweepers with him and the two bigger men dragged Jarod away to a new location, dumping him unceremoniously on a cot in the new room.
"He's not looking too good." One of the guards said.
Lyle glared at the big man. "I pay you not to look so closely at things Simmons. Mind your own damned business." He growled.
But watching the image on Sydney's DSA viewer, Parker had to agree with the sweeper. Jarod, heavily under the influence of the drugs Lyle had just given him, did look rather ill. His eyelids fluttered over glazed, deeply stoned eyes. His skin had taken on the sunken, unhealthy pallor of a malnourished street addict. Jarod's lips were dry and cracked, giving evidence that his body was badly dehydrated.
Lyle frowned at the lump of flesh lying in the cot and shook his head in frustration. "Get out." He snarled at the two sweepers. The men quickly left with Lyle following closely.
Lyle returned to the room shortly afterward. This time Mr. Raines, slowly hauling his squeaking oxygen tank, accompanied Lyle into the room. The two men stared down at Jarod for several moments. Raines grasped the pretender's wrist between his fingertips and stared at his watch in silence.
"His pulse is thready. He has a low grade fever." Raines wheezed. Glaring up at Lyle he asked, "How long has it been since he's eaten anything?"
Lyle shrugged. "A few days I guess." Lyle spoke quickly in his own defense. "Hey, I've brought his meals every day. You can't blame me if he refuses to eat that slop."
Raines shook his head. "You are supposed to encourage him toward more submissive behavior, Lyle. Killing him was not part of the objective at this point." Raines sighed heavily. "Force feed him." He ordered coldly then Raines turned and left the room.
Parker watched in horrified shock as Lyle brought several orderlies dressed in white into the room. While two of the white clad men held Jarod down, another forced a tube down the motionless pretender's throat. Parker winced when she heard the gagging sounds Jarod made as he was intubated. Feeding him as though he was a coma patient, a large syringe filled with gelatinous goop was attached to the end and pumped into Jarod's stomach through the tube.
Jarod's back arched and his hands clawed at the mattress beneath him as the tubing was then yanked back out of his body.
"Oh god." Parker moaned softly. "He's conscious." She whispered. "He knows exactly what they are doing to him."
Sydney gently placed a hand on her shoulder and the two observers shared a look of appalled dismay.
The orderlies placed an I.V. in Jarod's arm and started the drip that would re-hydrate him. Once that had been completed, the entire group left the room. When Jarod's chest heaved with a forlorn sigh, Parker could not hold back her own tears any longer. Silent drops rolled down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away.
The ghastly force-feeding drill continued, twice a day for the next two days. Still, Jarod refused to respond to Lyle in any way. On the third day, when the team came with the tubing, Lyle stood above Jarod and waggled the narcotic filled syringe before him.
"If you want this, Jarod." Lyle purred. "You will stop this nonsense and eat on your own."
Jarod stared blankly at the ceiling.
Lyle raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Are you sure? I think that you may be wanting this pretty badly in a few hours." He said.
With no response from Jarod, Lyle shrugged and said, "Very well." He placed the syringe into his jacket pocket and nodded curtly at the team of orderlies. Within minutes, the tube had been shoved down Jarod's throat and the nutritional supplement had been administered. A gagging, choking sound followed as the tube was removed.
Several hours later, Lyle again stood over Jarod's bed. Jarod's body was wracked with the obvious signs of drug withdrawal. His hands were trembling and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. Jarod's face contorted in a grimace as convulsive pains gripped him.
"You know the deal, Jarod." Lyle said in a singsong voice. "If you want the reward you must first do as I say."
Jarod, shivering and tight-lipped, gave no response.
"Fine." Lyle said.
As Mr. Lyle turned toward the door to call in the orderlies, Jarod abruptly moved. In flash of motion astounding for someone in his condition, Jarod suddenly rose from the bed and slammed into Lyle. The I.V. tubing attached to Jarod's arm snapped from the bottom of the plastic bag that hung from the stand and saline solution began spraying across the floor.
Jarod pushed Lyle against the wall and brought his knee into Lyle's midsection with a grinding force. As Lyle bent over in a whoosh of pain, Jarod slid behind him. Grabbing the I.V. tube that dangled from his own arm, Jarod wrapped the plastic garrote around Lyle's throat and started to pull it tightly. Gripping Lyle in a deadly embrace, Jarod backed into the far corner of the room, keeping his prisoner's body between him and the stunned orderlies.
Moments later, the two sweepers burst into the room, guns pointed at Jarod while Lyle gasped for air in the pretender's arms. With a disgusted heave, Jarod released Lyle without warning. Lyle lay in a twisted, rasping pile on the floor, the plastic tubing still wrapped around his neck at one end and attached to Jarod's forearm at the other.
With a grin of triumph, Jarod held the drug filled syringe from Lyle's pocket in one hand. Before the sweepers could jump him, Jarod flipped the plastic cover off of the needle, turned the point on himself and rammed it into his stomach. He pressed the plunger with his thumb just as one of the sweepers knocked him to the ground.
Parker didn't see anymore of the video. Horrified at the scene she had just witnessed, Parker sprang from the chair. Wide-eyed and frightened, she stared at Sydney in gasping desperation. "Oh my god. Oh my god." She whispered over and over. She backed away from the older man in irrational fear as he tried to comfort her.
"Sydney." She pleaded. "What? How?" Bright spots began flashing across Parker's vision and with a cry of tortured anguish she let the panic overcome her.
Later, Parker would not remember fleeing from Sydney's house. Nor would she ever be able to recall the frenzied drive through darkened streets. Moving on instinct alone, Parker did not regain control of her senses until nearly an hour later, when she found herself cowering alone in an alcove in one of the hallways at The Centre.
Her face was wet with tears and she was shivering uncontrollably. Disoriented at first, it took a few moments for Parker to determine her location. She was in a deserted hallway on SL-24. What she was doing here or how she had gotten there she did not know. Closing her eyes, she took several deep, calming breaths.
Her head ached. Parker rubbed at her temples wearily. There was a migraine building behind her eyes. She could feel it. Frowning, she glanced up and down the dimly lit hallway. Leaning her head back against the wall for a moment, she felt her gaze drawn to the unmarked door directly across from her. The longer Parker stared at the door, the more strongly it pulled at her.
Finally her curiosity got the best of her. Parker pushed away from the wall and scooted out of her hiding place. Looking around furtively, she tiptoed toward the door. Testing the knob, she found that it was locked as expected. Most doors at The Centre were locked these days. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Parker felt through her hair and quickly found a hairpin. She looked around again before she knelt at the lock.
At this late hour, Parker didn't expect many people on this level, but she still tried to hurry as she picked the lock. Within a minute, she heard a soft click, twisted the knob and slid into the room.
The room wasn't large but a wall of steel bars had been erected across the center of the room creating a prison cell on one side. Lying in a crumbled pile inside the cell was a bruised and battered pretender that Parker barely recognized as Jarod.
Parker walked gingerly across the room and slid to her knees at the bars of the cell. "Oh, Jarod." She whispered sadly. "What have they done to you?"
Sprawled unconscious on his back, one of Jarod's hands was flung out to his side. Parker pressed her cheek against the steel bars and reached between them to grasp the limp hand.
"Jarod?" Parker called to him softly. She squeezed his fingers more tightly with her own and was rewarded with a fluttering of his eyelids. "Jarod." She repeated more firmly.
Jarod blinked and rolled his head toward Parker. Glazed, bloodshot eyes focused blearily on her. His lips trembled into a weak but sorrowful smile.
Parker smiled back. "Hey there." She said tearfully.
"Hey." He croaked.
For a long minute they just smiled tremulously at one another. Then Jarod's eyes filled with tears and he whispered fervently, "I miss you."
"I'm right here." Parker told him.
"I'm so sorry" Jarod sobbed suddenly.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Jarod. You'll figure a way out of this. You'll be okay." Parker tried to reassure him.
"I miss you." He whispered again. "I wish you were really here."
Parker blinked in surprise as she realized that Jarod believed he was talking to a figment of his imagination. "I am here, really."
Jarod rolled onto his side and clasped Parker's hand between both his own. Rubbing his stubble covered cheek against her knuckles he sighed sadly. "Promise me, Miss Parker. Promise that you will always haunt my dreams."
Tears ran down Parker's cheeks as she tried unsuccessfully to reach Jarod's drug fogged mind. "You are not dreaming." She told him.
"Haunt my dreams, Miss Parker." Jarod begged. "And I will sleep. Sleep forever and ever."
Curling into a ball, Jarod continued to mumble incoherently as he wrapped his body around their clasped hands. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, Parker shook his shoulder frantically. So intent was she on rousing the pretender that she didn't register another presence in the room until a hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
Flinching away in surprise, Parker gasped and fumbled for her gun only to discover that she had abandoned it at Sydney's house. Thinking that she was done for, Parker sighed in relief when she looked up and saw Angelo crouching down beside her. Pressed against the wall beside the door stood Broots, staring at Parker with the same look of shock and disbelief that she was giving him.
"What are you two doing here?" Parker hissed.
"I, I wanted. We were just." Broots stuttered.
"Out with it you moron," Parker growled. "Don't you know how dangerous this is?"
Broots looked at Miss Parker with a frown. He wondered briefly if she had any idea how bizarre she looked. Kneeling on the floor like a nun before an altar, she glared up at him with fire in her ice blue eyes and the shiny wetness of tears on her cheeks.
It was Angelo who spoke, breaking the tension of the odd moment. "We go now." Angelo said, placing his hand on Parker's shoulder again. The strange man looked at Parker with an intensity that made her shiver. "We all go. Now."
Parker glanced up at Broots in confusion. "What's going on?" She asked.
"I'm sorry, Miss Parker." Broots said nervously. "I can't, in good conscience, stand by and let this happen anymore." Moving across the room to the cell door, Broots magically produced a key that he inserted into the lock. A moment later, the barred door opened.
Angelo hurried to Broots' side and the two men hauled Jarod to his feet. Parker watched them as they half dragged half carried the pretender out of the cell.
"Come," Angelo said to Miss Parker. "We go now. Quickly."
Parker scrambled to her feet and rushed to the outer door. Opening it slightly, she peered into the hallway to be sure that no one was about. Turning to the men behind her, she nodded once and slipped into the corridor. As they rounded a turn in the hall, Angelo switched places with Miss Parker. She helped drag Jarod through the gloom as Angelo led the small group on a convoluted maze of passageways.
Panting with exertion, Parker glanced at Broots with concern. "What about Debbie?" she asked him as they waited for Angelo to check the next corridor.
Broots shrugged uncomfortably. "She and I had a long talk last night. She's thirteen now. I figured she had the right to know what kind of danger I was putting her in just by coming to work every day." Angelo waved them on and the quartet resumed their agonizingly slow journey through the sub-levels.
"She's the one who told me that it was time to leave." Broots said with pride.
Parker shook her head in astonishment. "She's a good kid."
Broots nodded. "We're going to get out of here and start a new life somewhere." He vowed. "Somewhere safe."
Parker kept her doubts to herself. They followed Angelo through parts of The Centre that Parker didn't recognize. These passages had never been on any blueprint she had ever seen. She didn't even know that these areas had existed.
After what seemed an eternity of hauling Jarod through dark tunnels, Angelo finally led them into the fresh air through a storm drain. Easily pushing aside the grate that covered the pipe, Angelo hopped to the grass and turned to help Broots and Parker lower Jarod out of the opening.
"Hurry!" Angelo whispered frantically as they stumbled across an open field. Parker felt the other man's anxiety grow and adrenaline surged through her.
They reached a nearby copse of trees where Broots then led them to a delivery van hidden amongst the brush. The engine was idling and the door opened as they approached.
Broots' daughter, Debbie was crouched inside the van. The girl's eyes were wide with fear and apprehension.
They all clambered into the vehicle. Laying Jarod down as gently as they could, Broots hopped behind the steering wheel, put the van in gear and drove away from The Centre.
"I'm glad you're coming with us Miss Parker." Debbie said softly.
Parker cast a tentative smile at the girl, trying to reassure her. Debbie motioned toward the still form at her feet. "Is he alright?" Debbie asked.
Parker shook her head sadly. "No." She answered. "He isn't." Debbie produced a warm blanket from a pile nearby and together Parker and the girl tucked the soft wool around Jarod.
The van seemed to be a delivery truck of some sort. There were the two front seats and a long bench seat situated behind those. The rest of the area was open cargo space and had been carpeted with blankets and several pillows. Two large duffel bags were stacked against one wall.
Angelo huddled on the floor between the front seats and the bench, while Parker and Debbie sat in the cargo area with Jarod unconscious beside them. They had only driven for only a few miles, when Broots suddenly asked, "Miss Parker? What will happen to Sydney?"
Parker looked down at Jarod with a frown. "I don't know." She said softly.
Angelo's head popped up over the back of the seat. "Sydney, too. Be safe together."
Parker was surprised to realize that she understood the strange man's meaning. "I'm not sure that's a good idea Angelo." She said. "Can we really trust him?"
Angelo nodded his head vigorously. "We ALL go now." He said.
Parker shrugged. She was in this way over her head anyway. She was on the run with nothing but the clothes on her back. What difference would one more fugitive make in this oddball little crew? Besides, a stop at the psychiatrist's house would at least give Parker the chance to retrieve her gun.
"You heard the man, Broots." Parker sighed. "Swing by Syd's place and then we get the hell out of Dodge."
