Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
One Good Turn Part 9
Sweepers
By Phenyx
Parker strapped the incredibly high-heeled shoes onto her feet, slipped the jacket onto her shoulders and turned to examine her reflection in the full- length mirror. Her suit was a deep burgundy color with a skirt that was embarrassingly short, even by Parker's standards. The tight fitting jacket flared out at the waist, ending a mere half-inch below the hemline of the skirt. Parker's hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup was impeccable. Her attire effectively conveyed the haughty, regal atmosphere that she had always tried to project at The Centre while at the same time radiating a sensuality that would make men stare.
That was the point after all. Parker was going to be the distraction that would get Jarod into the Triumvirate headquarters. Parker had tried on several outfits before Jarod had decided that this one would best suit their purposes. She had felt like a piece of meat as he had studied her intently. Twirling in a circle for him when he demanded it, she had wanted to throttle the pretender as he had dismissed one suit after the other.
The poor girl waiting on them in the Paris dress shop had caught on quickly. It had taken her all of fifteen minutes to learn that Parker's opinion of the offered clothing meant nothing. Jarod was the one who would be paying the bills so the salesgirl had begun showing the options to him rather than Parker.
Parker had been to Europe many times and had spent her high school years in a boarding school in Switzerland. So Parker spoke fluent French. Yet Jarod had laughing joked with the sales girl in her native tongue, making the girl believe that Parker was an ignorant American with no grasp of the French language. The entire experience had been both humiliating and infuriating.
Once they had found the little burgundy outfit, Jarod had finally nodded appreciatively. Mumbling something about "Dangerous legs", Jarod had paid the salesgirl extra to rush the tailoring and then calmly ushered Parker out of the store. As they walked down the busy street in search of a shoe store, Parker had vented her frustration at him.
They had hollered at each other on the street corner for nearly ten minutes before either realized that they were arguing in French.
Now, two days later, Parker stared at herself in the mirror. They had arrived in South Africa in the wee hours of the morning but the hotel still had their suite of rooms prepared. Coming here and using her real name had been a gamble. But the Parker name still held power with the Triumvirate. That power, along with a calculated flash of her thighs, was going to get them past the guards.
Jarod had been confident that Raines and Lyle were both doing their best to hide Parker's disappearance from the Triumvirate. Her vanishing act would have cast doubt on Raines' ability to control his own people. So he would have gone out of his way to keep Parker's defection a secret. As usual, Jarod had been right.
This morning, Parker had a meeting scheduled with the Triumvirate council to discuss "new information" pertaining to The Centre.
A single sharp rap sounded at Parker's bedroom door.
"Your limousine has arrived, Miss Parker." Jarod voice said perfunctorily through the wooden panel.
Parker checked her reflection one last time before taking a deep breath and striding confidently into the next room. What she saw there shocked her so badly she nearly stumbled.
Jarod had cut his hair since Parker had seen him a few hours ago. Styled in a nondescript business-like fashion, his brown hair was several inches shorter than it had been last night. The thick wavy locks no longer flopped forward rakishly as it had before.
But the haircut wasn't the only change. Jarod wore a stern black suit and a matching tie. Tailored to accentuate the width of his shoulders, the suit had that strange cut to it that all professional hit men recognized. The suit was made to hide the holster and weapon concealed at Jarod's side.
Dark sunglasses topped off the ensemble, hiding Jarod's deep brown eyes. He stood with his hands clasped formally behind his back and his legs apart, like a soldier standing at ease while in formation. Jarod's expression and stance radiated an overbearing attitude of malice. There was no trace of the grinning, mischievous pretender that Parker knew.
Parker was staring at a sweeper. The change in Jarod was astounding.
Regaining a semblance of composure, Parker nodded once and strode toward the door. As if he'd been doing it for years, Jarod fell into position, walking two steps behind Parker on her right hand side. Riding the elevator to the lobby in silence, Parker felt a new appreciation for Jarod's abilities.
As they left the building, Jarod scanned the street with the eerie preciseness of a surveillance camera. Parker felt a shiver run down her spine. Jarod made a remarkable impression. No one at the Triumvirate facility would question Parker being accompanied by a sweeper. With the current atmosphere at The Centre, more suspicion would have been raised if Parker had come alone. A bodyguard would make her arrival look even more like a routine meeting.
The twenty-five minute drive to the Triumvirate compound was made in silence. Parker tried to stay as calm and collected as Jarod looked, but it was difficult. She couldn't even look to her old friend for support. The friend she had known was gone. In his place sat a cold, hard stranger. Parker realized for the first time in her life that Jarod could be a dangerous man if he chose to be.
They arrived at the compound and Parker showed her identification to the guard at the gates. The limo was waved through without comment. Greeted at the front doors by a mousy looking girl with glasses, Miss Parker was lead through the corridors to the conference room. With her arms crossed and her heels clicking sharply on the tiled floors, Parker made an imposing figure as always. No one bothered to give her tall bodyguard a second glance.
Parker was one of the last to arrive in the Triumvirate council chambers. Intentionally sliding into what was once her father's chair, Parker calmly folded her palms on the tabletop and waited for the rest of the attendees to take their seats. Jarod took a position along the wall at her back, blending in perfectly with the half dozen other sweepers in the room.
The meeting was quickly called to order and Parker found herself being stared at expectantly by the Triumvirate council members.
"We are honored to have you join us today, Miss Parker." The man at the head of the table said smoothly. "We understand that you wished to share information with this group."
Parker turned a cold glare to each person sitting at the table before she spoke. "Gentlemen, and Ladies," Parker nodded toward the one other woman sitting nearby. "The Parker family has been intimately entangled with the Triumvirate for over three generations. As such, I felt that this information could only be brought to you in person out of respect for the close relationship between us." Parker's voice dripped with icy sarcasm.
"We appreciate your devotion, Miss Parker." The president said, ignoring her cynicism.
Parker continued steadily. "Therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that, henceforth, the Triumvirate must end its association with The Centre and with the Parker family."
Parker's words caused a stir of shock and disbelief among her audience. It took a full minute for the Triumvirate leader to quiet the group enough to ask, "Miss Parker, would you kindly enlighten us as to why you feel it necessary to end such a profitable affiliation?"
His answer was a quick series of quiet pops as six of the seven sweepers in the room abruptly dropped to the floor, clutching at their throats. Jarod then removed his sunglasses and stepped forward, the silencer on his 9mm still smoking.
"Lock the door, Parker." Jarod said calmly. "And disarm our poor wounded friends."
Parker quickly stood and did as she was told. The sweepers, each shot in the larynx, were bleeding badly, cries of pain and shock came from their ruined throats as little more than gurgling noises. But they were all alive and with an infirmary on the premises, there was little chance that any of the men would bleed to death.
Nonchalantly standing beside the chair that Parker had just vacated, Jarod glanced around the room with a curious look on his face. "Do I need to introduce myself?" he asked the stunned group before him.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here." One of the men at the table growled.
"I felt that this would be the most obvious way of making my point exceedingly clear." Jarod ginned maliciously.
The Triumvirate president hushed his angry comrade and turned calmly toward Jarod. "Your point is well taken, Jarod." The man said. "This demonstration of your talents is most impressive."
Jarod grinned wickedly. "You haven't seen anything yet." He purred. "As we sit here, talking amiably, further demonstrations are being set in motion. Several of the people in this room are about to suffer considerable personal financial losses on the U.S. stock market. Others will find their identities stolen and sizable credit fraud performed under their names."
Jarod looked around the room with a twinkle of glee in his eyes. "Did you know that there are people out there who will pay for social security numbers? Especially those belonging to wealthy international business people."
"Of course, this will cause some unpleasantness. But in the grand scheme of things, my demonstration will cause little more than some annoyance." Jarod continued.
"What are you trying to prove?" the Triumvirate leader asked in exasperation.
"I have at my fingertips, the knowledge and ability to destroy you, one by one." Jarod hissed icily. "Your money, your property, your reputations are all servants to my whim." He began to prowl thoughtfully around the conference table. "Imagine what would happen if Triumvirate projects and holdings should somehow be leaked to the media? What if Project 117T should suddenly stall in the military appropriations committee?"
Several of the members seated at the table glanced at each other nervously.
Jarod smiled coldly. "I see that you are beginning to understand the situation."
"What do you want from us, Jarod?" The president sighed.
"Nothing." Jarod smiled. "Absolutely nothing. Your association with The Centre will simply end. Any personnel you may have stationed in any Centre facility should be recalled immediately."
The Triumvirate leader stood and leaned angrily on the table before him. "How dare you come in here and make such outrageous demands! The Centre makes up a large percentage of the annual income for the Triumvirate. We will not cease so profitable a venture."
Jarod leaned toward the other man menacingly. In a dangerously quiet voice he said, "I promise you, Sir, it will no longer be profitable. I am no longer a pawn in this little game of yours. I have decided to become a key player."
Pacing back to the other side of the room, Jarod stood meaningfully at Miss Parker's side. "The Centre is currently in upheaval and is about to suffer some devastating financial problems. I strongly suggest that you end your treaty with them. Continue to align yourself with the Centre gentlemen and I assure you, the Triumvirate will share in its demise."
The president smiled slowly in appreciation. "Do you believe you can overthrow Mr. Raines' authority?"
"Yes." Jarod said simply.
"If you succeed," The older man said. "You will have earned the right to take his seat on the Triumvirate."
Parker's jaw dropped. Looking quickly to Jarod for his reaction, Parker was amazed to see that he hadn't even batted an eye. Either he had expected the offer or he was hiding his own shock very well.
Holding out his arms and bowing in a sarcastically submissive gesture, Jarod said. "While the offer is most flattering, Sir, I have no interest in joining the Triumvirate."
"Don't dismiss the possibility so quickly, young man." The triumvirate leader said. "Mull it over for a while. In the meantime, we will turn a blind eye toward The Centre for the time being. We will remain neutral in this little feud of yours."
"You make a wise choice, Sir." Jarod purred. Turning his back on the group of people seated at the table, he took Parker's elbow and walked confidently out of the room.
No one stopped the two as they left the building and made the return trip to their suite at the hotel.
-----
Parker sat in the gray rental car parked at the curb. Her fingers drummed spastically on the steering wheel as a testament to her nervousness. She had been waiting here for Jarod for nearly an hour. Parker wasn't comfortable here. Dover was too close to Blue Cove for her liking. But they had important work to do here.
Parker didn't understand why Jarod had insisted that he do this on his own. The task would have been so much simpler if Parker had gone along or even better, if she had gone by herself. But Jarod had been adamant. Arguing with him had only served to increase Jarod's stance on the subject.
Jarod could be a damn stubborn man when he chose to be. Since they had returned to the States, he'd been frustratingly determined to have his own way.
A suspiciously familiar black sedan sped past the front of Parker's car at the intersection she was facing. With her anxiety rising to an alarming level, Parker started the ignition and frantically scanned the sidewalks for Jarod.
Abruptly bursting from a nearby alleyway, Jarod dashed down the crowded sidewalk at a full speed run. Two steps behind him, struggling desperately with the pace, was Sam, tie loose and flapping over his shoulder. Parker could see Jarod toss a look over his shoulder and gesture in her direction as he swung around a hot dog vendor.
Sam changed direction and started to cross the street at an angle toward Parker's car. Glancing quickly around her position, Parker made mental note of the quickest route away from the scene. Jarod approached the street corner and swerved into the oncoming traffic. Parker's heart slammed into her throat as brakes began to squeal and cars veered away from the running man.
With his black leather jacket fanning behind him like a cape, Jarod nimbly zig-zagged through the careening vehicles. He hopped across the hood of a taxicab and skidded into little red hatchback. A flurry of black suited sweepers poured out of the alley and onto the street. With two quick steps, Jarod was standing on top of the little red car, drawing the attention of the sweepers as they searched the area.
Parker heard the back door open as Sam ducked into the back seat. She had put the car into gear and started moving the car forward moments before the door behind her had slammed shut. Expertly maneuvering around the traffic snarling on the street, Parker headed for the corner just as Jarod leapt to the ground.
Screeching to a stop on the curb, Parker watched as Jarod slid across the hood of her car like a baseball player. Grabbing the open window with one hand, Jarod yelled, "Go!" as he dove head first through the opening.
With the odor of burning rubber stinging her nostrils, Parker yanked on the steering wheel and sped down the road. As they left the chaos behind them, Jarod glanced out the rear windshield.
"I think we lost them." A voice panted from the back seat.
"Are you alright?" Parker asked.
"I'm a little dazed and out of breath but I'll live." Sam answered.
Parker smiled at the sweeper's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Welcome to the team, Sam."
Sweepers
By Phenyx
Parker strapped the incredibly high-heeled shoes onto her feet, slipped the jacket onto her shoulders and turned to examine her reflection in the full- length mirror. Her suit was a deep burgundy color with a skirt that was embarrassingly short, even by Parker's standards. The tight fitting jacket flared out at the waist, ending a mere half-inch below the hemline of the skirt. Parker's hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup was impeccable. Her attire effectively conveyed the haughty, regal atmosphere that she had always tried to project at The Centre while at the same time radiating a sensuality that would make men stare.
That was the point after all. Parker was going to be the distraction that would get Jarod into the Triumvirate headquarters. Parker had tried on several outfits before Jarod had decided that this one would best suit their purposes. She had felt like a piece of meat as he had studied her intently. Twirling in a circle for him when he demanded it, she had wanted to throttle the pretender as he had dismissed one suit after the other.
The poor girl waiting on them in the Paris dress shop had caught on quickly. It had taken her all of fifteen minutes to learn that Parker's opinion of the offered clothing meant nothing. Jarod was the one who would be paying the bills so the salesgirl had begun showing the options to him rather than Parker.
Parker had been to Europe many times and had spent her high school years in a boarding school in Switzerland. So Parker spoke fluent French. Yet Jarod had laughing joked with the sales girl in her native tongue, making the girl believe that Parker was an ignorant American with no grasp of the French language. The entire experience had been both humiliating and infuriating.
Once they had found the little burgundy outfit, Jarod had finally nodded appreciatively. Mumbling something about "Dangerous legs", Jarod had paid the salesgirl extra to rush the tailoring and then calmly ushered Parker out of the store. As they walked down the busy street in search of a shoe store, Parker had vented her frustration at him.
They had hollered at each other on the street corner for nearly ten minutes before either realized that they were arguing in French.
Now, two days later, Parker stared at herself in the mirror. They had arrived in South Africa in the wee hours of the morning but the hotel still had their suite of rooms prepared. Coming here and using her real name had been a gamble. But the Parker name still held power with the Triumvirate. That power, along with a calculated flash of her thighs, was going to get them past the guards.
Jarod had been confident that Raines and Lyle were both doing their best to hide Parker's disappearance from the Triumvirate. Her vanishing act would have cast doubt on Raines' ability to control his own people. So he would have gone out of his way to keep Parker's defection a secret. As usual, Jarod had been right.
This morning, Parker had a meeting scheduled with the Triumvirate council to discuss "new information" pertaining to The Centre.
A single sharp rap sounded at Parker's bedroom door.
"Your limousine has arrived, Miss Parker." Jarod voice said perfunctorily through the wooden panel.
Parker checked her reflection one last time before taking a deep breath and striding confidently into the next room. What she saw there shocked her so badly she nearly stumbled.
Jarod had cut his hair since Parker had seen him a few hours ago. Styled in a nondescript business-like fashion, his brown hair was several inches shorter than it had been last night. The thick wavy locks no longer flopped forward rakishly as it had before.
But the haircut wasn't the only change. Jarod wore a stern black suit and a matching tie. Tailored to accentuate the width of his shoulders, the suit had that strange cut to it that all professional hit men recognized. The suit was made to hide the holster and weapon concealed at Jarod's side.
Dark sunglasses topped off the ensemble, hiding Jarod's deep brown eyes. He stood with his hands clasped formally behind his back and his legs apart, like a soldier standing at ease while in formation. Jarod's expression and stance radiated an overbearing attitude of malice. There was no trace of the grinning, mischievous pretender that Parker knew.
Parker was staring at a sweeper. The change in Jarod was astounding.
Regaining a semblance of composure, Parker nodded once and strode toward the door. As if he'd been doing it for years, Jarod fell into position, walking two steps behind Parker on her right hand side. Riding the elevator to the lobby in silence, Parker felt a new appreciation for Jarod's abilities.
As they left the building, Jarod scanned the street with the eerie preciseness of a surveillance camera. Parker felt a shiver run down her spine. Jarod made a remarkable impression. No one at the Triumvirate facility would question Parker being accompanied by a sweeper. With the current atmosphere at The Centre, more suspicion would have been raised if Parker had come alone. A bodyguard would make her arrival look even more like a routine meeting.
The twenty-five minute drive to the Triumvirate compound was made in silence. Parker tried to stay as calm and collected as Jarod looked, but it was difficult. She couldn't even look to her old friend for support. The friend she had known was gone. In his place sat a cold, hard stranger. Parker realized for the first time in her life that Jarod could be a dangerous man if he chose to be.
They arrived at the compound and Parker showed her identification to the guard at the gates. The limo was waved through without comment. Greeted at the front doors by a mousy looking girl with glasses, Miss Parker was lead through the corridors to the conference room. With her arms crossed and her heels clicking sharply on the tiled floors, Parker made an imposing figure as always. No one bothered to give her tall bodyguard a second glance.
Parker was one of the last to arrive in the Triumvirate council chambers. Intentionally sliding into what was once her father's chair, Parker calmly folded her palms on the tabletop and waited for the rest of the attendees to take their seats. Jarod took a position along the wall at her back, blending in perfectly with the half dozen other sweepers in the room.
The meeting was quickly called to order and Parker found herself being stared at expectantly by the Triumvirate council members.
"We are honored to have you join us today, Miss Parker." The man at the head of the table said smoothly. "We understand that you wished to share information with this group."
Parker turned a cold glare to each person sitting at the table before she spoke. "Gentlemen, and Ladies," Parker nodded toward the one other woman sitting nearby. "The Parker family has been intimately entangled with the Triumvirate for over three generations. As such, I felt that this information could only be brought to you in person out of respect for the close relationship between us." Parker's voice dripped with icy sarcasm.
"We appreciate your devotion, Miss Parker." The president said, ignoring her cynicism.
Parker continued steadily. "Therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that, henceforth, the Triumvirate must end its association with The Centre and with the Parker family."
Parker's words caused a stir of shock and disbelief among her audience. It took a full minute for the Triumvirate leader to quiet the group enough to ask, "Miss Parker, would you kindly enlighten us as to why you feel it necessary to end such a profitable affiliation?"
His answer was a quick series of quiet pops as six of the seven sweepers in the room abruptly dropped to the floor, clutching at their throats. Jarod then removed his sunglasses and stepped forward, the silencer on his 9mm still smoking.
"Lock the door, Parker." Jarod said calmly. "And disarm our poor wounded friends."
Parker quickly stood and did as she was told. The sweepers, each shot in the larynx, were bleeding badly, cries of pain and shock came from their ruined throats as little more than gurgling noises. But they were all alive and with an infirmary on the premises, there was little chance that any of the men would bleed to death.
Nonchalantly standing beside the chair that Parker had just vacated, Jarod glanced around the room with a curious look on his face. "Do I need to introduce myself?" he asked the stunned group before him.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here." One of the men at the table growled.
"I felt that this would be the most obvious way of making my point exceedingly clear." Jarod ginned maliciously.
The Triumvirate president hushed his angry comrade and turned calmly toward Jarod. "Your point is well taken, Jarod." The man said. "This demonstration of your talents is most impressive."
Jarod grinned wickedly. "You haven't seen anything yet." He purred. "As we sit here, talking amiably, further demonstrations are being set in motion. Several of the people in this room are about to suffer considerable personal financial losses on the U.S. stock market. Others will find their identities stolen and sizable credit fraud performed under their names."
Jarod looked around the room with a twinkle of glee in his eyes. "Did you know that there are people out there who will pay for social security numbers? Especially those belonging to wealthy international business people."
"Of course, this will cause some unpleasantness. But in the grand scheme of things, my demonstration will cause little more than some annoyance." Jarod continued.
"What are you trying to prove?" the Triumvirate leader asked in exasperation.
"I have at my fingertips, the knowledge and ability to destroy you, one by one." Jarod hissed icily. "Your money, your property, your reputations are all servants to my whim." He began to prowl thoughtfully around the conference table. "Imagine what would happen if Triumvirate projects and holdings should somehow be leaked to the media? What if Project 117T should suddenly stall in the military appropriations committee?"
Several of the members seated at the table glanced at each other nervously.
Jarod smiled coldly. "I see that you are beginning to understand the situation."
"What do you want from us, Jarod?" The president sighed.
"Nothing." Jarod smiled. "Absolutely nothing. Your association with The Centre will simply end. Any personnel you may have stationed in any Centre facility should be recalled immediately."
The Triumvirate leader stood and leaned angrily on the table before him. "How dare you come in here and make such outrageous demands! The Centre makes up a large percentage of the annual income for the Triumvirate. We will not cease so profitable a venture."
Jarod leaned toward the other man menacingly. In a dangerously quiet voice he said, "I promise you, Sir, it will no longer be profitable. I am no longer a pawn in this little game of yours. I have decided to become a key player."
Pacing back to the other side of the room, Jarod stood meaningfully at Miss Parker's side. "The Centre is currently in upheaval and is about to suffer some devastating financial problems. I strongly suggest that you end your treaty with them. Continue to align yourself with the Centre gentlemen and I assure you, the Triumvirate will share in its demise."
The president smiled slowly in appreciation. "Do you believe you can overthrow Mr. Raines' authority?"
"Yes." Jarod said simply.
"If you succeed," The older man said. "You will have earned the right to take his seat on the Triumvirate."
Parker's jaw dropped. Looking quickly to Jarod for his reaction, Parker was amazed to see that he hadn't even batted an eye. Either he had expected the offer or he was hiding his own shock very well.
Holding out his arms and bowing in a sarcastically submissive gesture, Jarod said. "While the offer is most flattering, Sir, I have no interest in joining the Triumvirate."
"Don't dismiss the possibility so quickly, young man." The triumvirate leader said. "Mull it over for a while. In the meantime, we will turn a blind eye toward The Centre for the time being. We will remain neutral in this little feud of yours."
"You make a wise choice, Sir." Jarod purred. Turning his back on the group of people seated at the table, he took Parker's elbow and walked confidently out of the room.
No one stopped the two as they left the building and made the return trip to their suite at the hotel.
-----
Parker sat in the gray rental car parked at the curb. Her fingers drummed spastically on the steering wheel as a testament to her nervousness. She had been waiting here for Jarod for nearly an hour. Parker wasn't comfortable here. Dover was too close to Blue Cove for her liking. But they had important work to do here.
Parker didn't understand why Jarod had insisted that he do this on his own. The task would have been so much simpler if Parker had gone along or even better, if she had gone by herself. But Jarod had been adamant. Arguing with him had only served to increase Jarod's stance on the subject.
Jarod could be a damn stubborn man when he chose to be. Since they had returned to the States, he'd been frustratingly determined to have his own way.
A suspiciously familiar black sedan sped past the front of Parker's car at the intersection she was facing. With her anxiety rising to an alarming level, Parker started the ignition and frantically scanned the sidewalks for Jarod.
Abruptly bursting from a nearby alleyway, Jarod dashed down the crowded sidewalk at a full speed run. Two steps behind him, struggling desperately with the pace, was Sam, tie loose and flapping over his shoulder. Parker could see Jarod toss a look over his shoulder and gesture in her direction as he swung around a hot dog vendor.
Sam changed direction and started to cross the street at an angle toward Parker's car. Glancing quickly around her position, Parker made mental note of the quickest route away from the scene. Jarod approached the street corner and swerved into the oncoming traffic. Parker's heart slammed into her throat as brakes began to squeal and cars veered away from the running man.
With his black leather jacket fanning behind him like a cape, Jarod nimbly zig-zagged through the careening vehicles. He hopped across the hood of a taxicab and skidded into little red hatchback. A flurry of black suited sweepers poured out of the alley and onto the street. With two quick steps, Jarod was standing on top of the little red car, drawing the attention of the sweepers as they searched the area.
Parker heard the back door open as Sam ducked into the back seat. She had put the car into gear and started moving the car forward moments before the door behind her had slammed shut. Expertly maneuvering around the traffic snarling on the street, Parker headed for the corner just as Jarod leapt to the ground.
Screeching to a stop on the curb, Parker watched as Jarod slid across the hood of her car like a baseball player. Grabbing the open window with one hand, Jarod yelled, "Go!" as he dove head first through the opening.
With the odor of burning rubber stinging her nostrils, Parker yanked on the steering wheel and sped down the road. As they left the chaos behind them, Jarod glanced out the rear windshield.
"I think we lost them." A voice panted from the back seat.
"Are you alright?" Parker asked.
"I'm a little dazed and out of breath but I'll live." Sam answered.
Parker smiled at the sweeper's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Welcome to the team, Sam."
