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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Pretender and its related characters don't belong to me. There is no money involved here and no copyright infringement is intended. This is all just my humble way of paying tribute to a really entertaining show that I miss a great deal. 05/01/03
Bridge of the Abyss
Deja Vu
By Phenyx
"History is often cruel, and rarely logical, and yet the wisest of realists are those who recognize that fate can indeed be shaped by human faith and courage." - Henry Kissinger
-Part 5-
Parker stared down in horror at the lukewarm coffee running across her desk in dirty brown rivulets. She grimaced, almost in pain, as she realized that the expensive silk blouse, purchased in Paris, was now ruined.
Tilting her head in mesmerized fascination, Parker watched the liquid drip to the ground, spattering her shoes with brown dots. The eerie sense of déjà vu that had been creeping in on her all morning intensified another notch.
Moving like an automaton, Parker slid her jacket from her shoulders and tried half-heartedly to clean up the mess on her desk.
Sydney walked into the office.
Parker glanced up at him. "What?" she asked.
"Have you seen Broots?" the psychiatrist asked.
Parker shook her head. "Not today." She sighed in resignation and gave up on her attempts to repair the coffee damage. "Get Carl in here." She said.
Sydney left returning a moment later with the young blond man that had been working as Parker's assistant for the past few weeks. Carl was young and reasonably attractive but in an effeminate sort of way. He didn't have the chiseled look to his features or physique that Parker found appealing.
"Clean this up." Parker ordered. "And find me another shirt."
"Yes, Ma'am." The young man said obediently.
The assistant glanced curiously at Miss Parker as she strode passed him. Parker was abruptly taken aback by the striking blue color of the man's eyes. The bright blue of his irises seemed unnatural somehow.
"Do you wear colored contacts?" She asked him suddenly.
Carl stared warily at his employer. "No ma'am. Should I?"
Parker shook her head sadly. She almost felt sorry for this young man. He'd been brought into The Centre by Lyle and assigned to Parker's section. As a result, Parker never had any intention of trusting the blonde boy. But, Parker had to admit, Carl did try very hard to please her.
Shaking her head to clear it, Parker pushed her assistant out of her mind and headed for the bathroom to remove her shirt.
"Sydney," she said as she crossed the room. "Broots should be here somewhere. Have him paged."
Sydney shrugged. "Perhaps he's had trouble because of the storm. He may have lost power at his place."
The older man's comment stopped Parker in her tracks as the odd sensation returned. Glaring fearfully at Sydney she noticed the color of his tie for the first time. "Syd?" She asked. "Is that a new tie?"
"No," Sydney frowned. "You've seen me wear it many times, Miss Parker. Why?"
Parker sighed. "For some reason, I find blue to be an irritating color today."
A dripping wet Broots appeared at the door. Parker nearly laughed, he looked so pitiful.
"Having a rough day, Broots?" Parker asked with a smile.
"Beautiful." The technician grumbled sarcastically. "I'm having a beautiful day."
The smile slid from Parker's face and she stared wide-eyed at the trio of men in the room. The feeling of déjà vu was rapidly increasing to the point of paranoia.
Sydney frowned. "Miss Parker, are you all right?"
Parker turned a worried glance in his direction. "No, Sydney. Don't think so."
"What is it, Miss Parker?" Broots asked.
"Something is wrong." She whispered. "I can feel it coming."
"What?" he asked.
"I wish I knew." Was her reply, "Where is Lyle?" she asked suddenly
Three men stared at her in ignorance.
Parker growled in frustration. "I want to know where he is. Now." She stomped into the lavatory and slammed the door behind her.
--
The darkness outside Parker's office window seemed thick and ominous. The niggling feeling of anxiety that had plagued her this morning had gradually grown throughout the day. Innocuous statements, innocently spoken by her staff, had served to intensify her nervousness. The sense of déjà vu wouldn't go away.
Now, glaring out at the darkened parking lot, Parker was convinced that her inner sense was trying to tell her something. Danger was lurking nearby. She could feel it. Her inability to identify what * it * was caused her frustration to rise to alarming levels.
"Miss Parker?"
Swirling around, Parker glared angrily at her young personal assistant. "Did I give you permission to come in?" she hissed.
"I knocked." Carl swallowed. "You must not have heard me. I may have found something important." The young man stepped up to her desk to hand her a crumpled slip of paper.
Parker snatched the note from Carl. It was a memo from the Triumvirate to Mr. Lyle.
"Your plan for subduing the rebellious nature of the subject has been approved. It is preferred that the terminations occur in one event in order to avoid suspicion from the authorities. The methods used shall be left to the discretion of The Centre." The paper read.
On the bottom portion of the paper, a pencil led had been brushed carefully across the sheet, revealing an impression caused by writing on an overlaying page. Two lines were barely legible, a time 11 PM, and an address 24642 Hempford Drive.
"I found it in Mr. Lyle's wastepaper basket." Carl said.
"This is it." Parker whispered. "I have to stop him."
The young man smiled slyly at her. "A Centre jet left Blue Cove early this afternoon headed for Indiana."
"Indiana?" Parker frowned. Adrenaline suddenly surged through her body. Urgency was essential. Her mind screamed at her to hurry. Grabbing her jacket from a nearby chair, Parker dashed toward the door. "Call the air strip." She barked as she ran. "I want to be in the air in ten minutes."
"Yes, Ma'am." Carl replied as he picked up the phone. But the office door had slammed shut behind her before he could finish his words.
Screeching to a halt on the tarmac, Parker jumped from her car and ran toward the waiting jet. As she bolted up the steps she growled. "Let's go. Let's go!"
Her inner sense began to whisper frantically, hissing in her ear. "Hurryhurryhurryhurry."
Fastening her seatbelt as the plane began to taxi down the runway, Parker closed her eyes and whispered a mental prayer to whatever fate had controlled her life. Lives were at stake in this. Parker wasn't sure who Lyle was targeting or why. She knew only that she had to stop him. Everything depended upon it. Everything.
--
"Hello." Jarod held his cell phone against his ear with one shoulder as he wiped his hands on a napkin.
"Jarod?" Parker's voice asked cautiously.
"Parker!" Jarod purred with surprise. Abandoning his half eaten slice of pizza, Jarod smiled. "Twice in one day. This is a treat."
"Shut up and listen." She snarled. "I've uncovered something important. Lyle is planning to kill someone. It's a Triumvirate sanctioned assassination."
"Who?" Jarod asked as the smile slid from his face.
"I don't know, but the memo I saw said something about a single event resulting in terminations, plural. More than one life is at stake." Parker said. "I have an address that I think may be the location but I'm still several hours away."
"And you thought that I might be closer." Jarod finished for her.
Parker shrugged. "I had hoped you might be." She admitted. "How far are you from Fort Wayne, Indiana?"
"I can be there by midnight." Jarod said quickly.
"This is going down at 11." Parker sighed in frustration.
"Then I'll be there by eleven." He said firmly. The urgency in Parker's voice alarmed Jarod. She sounded panicky and afraid.
Parker rattled off an address as Jarod slammed out the door. He didn't bother to waste time to collect any of his things. He would come back for them in a day or two. He jumped into his car and maneuvered on to the street.
"Hurry, Jarod." Parker's voice whispered tearfully through the phone. "We can't let this happen."
"We'll stop him, Parker." Jarod tried to reassure her. "We will."
A dial tone buzzed in Jarod's ear as Parker disconnected the call. Slipping the phone into his pocket, Jarod pressed down on the accelerator. He felt Parker's distress like a tangible thing. She was terrified. For the second time in one day, Parker was frightened and reaching out for help.
Jarod couldn't let her down.
--
The clock illuminated on the dashboard of Parker's rented car clicked from one minute to the next with alarming regularity. She drove as fast as she dared. The fear of being pulled over by the police and delayed in her journey, clawed at her mind.
It was 10:30. Parker estimated that it would take another twenty minutes or more to reach her destination. Anxiety forced her to increase her speed another notch as her vehicle zoomed down the rural two-lane highway. As she crested a small hill Parker came upon a light colored pickup truck in front of her. Annoyingly sticking to the posted speed limit, the vehicle chugged along, oblivious to the sedan now riding its bumper.
The two cars rounded a bend in the road and approached a straight section of the highway. Parker signaled and pressed on the gas pedal as she began to pass the slower vehicle. There was suddenly an ominous, low-pitched popping sound and the little truck began to shimmy in the lane. Parker reacted without thought, yanking the wheel to the left as the other driver abruptly lost control.
Parker was going too fast and she slammed on the brakes as her car swerved toward the truck. Holding her breath, Parker frantically tried to avoid a collision. The truck jerked, seeming to hop from the road as the front axel broke and the frame hit the road. Sparks flew as metal scraped against asphalt.
Yanking on the wheel hard in the opposite direction, Parker suddenly felt the sedan begin to spin beneath her. Like macabre dancers the two cars skidded in circles in the road. Parker was stunned motionless as the silver pickup truck flashed by, a bright blue racing stripe on its side.
The blue strip of color seemed to slash across Parker's vision like a blade. Gripping the wheel for all she was worth, Parker stared wide-eyed as the truck slid across the road and into the ditch. When the sedan finally came to a halt, the car was pointed in the wrong direction facing the ruined truck.
A moment later, a stunned Parker watched as the other driver climbed from his pickup and stumbled out of the ditch.
"Are you okay?" the man asked.
Parker squeezed her eyes shut tightly but she could not banish the bright blue metallic color from her mind. Behind closed lids, Parker's eyes replayed the blue flash. Intertwined with it came a rush of memory. Parker's dream from that morning unraveled in her mind with an intense speed and clarity. She remembered the fire that was coming, the blood and the deaths. She remembered dark eyes, once twinkling with mischief, turned empty and dead, staring at a crystal blue sky.
"No." Parker whimpered. There had been no dream, Parker realized. The images that had terrified her so had been a vision. It had been her inner sense plaguing her, urging her on all day.
"Are you okay?" the driver of the pickup had reached Parker's window and was staring at her with concern.
Trembling violently, Parker wrenched her car into gear without answering. Tires squealed as she swung the car around and sped off through the night.
--
Parker rounded a bend in the road and saw a familiar farmhouse. Careening up the dirt-covered drive Parker leaned on the horn in an attempt to rouse the occupants. Throwing the car into park, Parker dashed from the car, glancing back only long enough to register the glowing digits on the instrument panel.
"We're out of time." She whimpered.
Parker ran across the grassy yard. To her left, she saw a clothesline draped with freshly laundered sheets. The floral pattern on the cotton danced merrily in the light breeze, cruelly teasing Parker with a menace that only she could understand.
"ETHAN!" Parker began to scream.
Pounding up the steps and onto the porch, Parker didn't bother with the door. Yanking her gun from the holster at her back, Parker kicked violently at the front door. The wooden panel was no match for her panic-stricken ferocity. It burst open easily, rebounding against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
Standing wild-eyed in the hallway, Parker screamed again. "ETHAN!" Pointing her gun out the door she had just come through, Parker fired several rounds, hoping to wake any sleeping inhabitants and alert them to danger.
Major Charles suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway.
"Miss Parker?" He asked in surprise.
Additional members of Jarod's family stood behind the major in a bright room that seemed to be the kitchen. Ethan was among them.
Parker focused on her little brother and shot him a thought of pure panic. Ethan started to move away into the other room.
"No!" Parker cried as she ran after him. Tears of frustration sprung to her eyes. "GET OUT!" she yelled at the stunned group gathered before her. A young woman, presumably Jarod's sister Emily, stood dumbfounded, staring at Parker in horror.
"There's a bomb!" Parker screamed. Grabbing the girl by the shoulder, Parker shoved her toward another doorway, a side entrance that Ethan was already dashing through. "MOVE!" Parker demanded.
Suddenly, everyone was in motion at once. The Major grabbed his wife's arm and dragged her along with him as he propelled Emily forward. "Let's go, Jack!" He commanded.
A wide-eyed teenaged boy with dark hair spilling into his eyes, stood beside the kitchen table with an ice cream scooper in his hand. Weeping with urgency, Parker dashed to his side and yanked the boy forward by the collar of his shirt. Hauling the boy at her side Parker stumbled out the door only a few steps behind the rest of the family.
Parker felt the explosion more than she heard it. There was an abrupt gust of intense heat at her back as Parker was lifted into the air and pushed forward by the blast. Green grass rushed up to meet her as Parker slammed into the ground. She rolled onto her back just in time to see bright orange flames burst from the upper windows of the house. Black smoke began to block out the stars as Parker gasped and lost consciousness.
Bridge of the Abyss
Deja Vu
By Phenyx
"History is often cruel, and rarely logical, and yet the wisest of realists are those who recognize that fate can indeed be shaped by human faith and courage." - Henry Kissinger
-Part 5-
Parker stared down in horror at the lukewarm coffee running across her desk in dirty brown rivulets. She grimaced, almost in pain, as she realized that the expensive silk blouse, purchased in Paris, was now ruined.
Tilting her head in mesmerized fascination, Parker watched the liquid drip to the ground, spattering her shoes with brown dots. The eerie sense of déjà vu that had been creeping in on her all morning intensified another notch.
Moving like an automaton, Parker slid her jacket from her shoulders and tried half-heartedly to clean up the mess on her desk.
Sydney walked into the office.
Parker glanced up at him. "What?" she asked.
"Have you seen Broots?" the psychiatrist asked.
Parker shook her head. "Not today." She sighed in resignation and gave up on her attempts to repair the coffee damage. "Get Carl in here." She said.
Sydney left returning a moment later with the young blond man that had been working as Parker's assistant for the past few weeks. Carl was young and reasonably attractive but in an effeminate sort of way. He didn't have the chiseled look to his features or physique that Parker found appealing.
"Clean this up." Parker ordered. "And find me another shirt."
"Yes, Ma'am." The young man said obediently.
The assistant glanced curiously at Miss Parker as she strode passed him. Parker was abruptly taken aback by the striking blue color of the man's eyes. The bright blue of his irises seemed unnatural somehow.
"Do you wear colored contacts?" She asked him suddenly.
Carl stared warily at his employer. "No ma'am. Should I?"
Parker shook her head sadly. She almost felt sorry for this young man. He'd been brought into The Centre by Lyle and assigned to Parker's section. As a result, Parker never had any intention of trusting the blonde boy. But, Parker had to admit, Carl did try very hard to please her.
Shaking her head to clear it, Parker pushed her assistant out of her mind and headed for the bathroom to remove her shirt.
"Sydney," she said as she crossed the room. "Broots should be here somewhere. Have him paged."
Sydney shrugged. "Perhaps he's had trouble because of the storm. He may have lost power at his place."
The older man's comment stopped Parker in her tracks as the odd sensation returned. Glaring fearfully at Sydney she noticed the color of his tie for the first time. "Syd?" She asked. "Is that a new tie?"
"No," Sydney frowned. "You've seen me wear it many times, Miss Parker. Why?"
Parker sighed. "For some reason, I find blue to be an irritating color today."
A dripping wet Broots appeared at the door. Parker nearly laughed, he looked so pitiful.
"Having a rough day, Broots?" Parker asked with a smile.
"Beautiful." The technician grumbled sarcastically. "I'm having a beautiful day."
The smile slid from Parker's face and she stared wide-eyed at the trio of men in the room. The feeling of déjà vu was rapidly increasing to the point of paranoia.
Sydney frowned. "Miss Parker, are you all right?"
Parker turned a worried glance in his direction. "No, Sydney. Don't think so."
"What is it, Miss Parker?" Broots asked.
"Something is wrong." She whispered. "I can feel it coming."
"What?" he asked.
"I wish I knew." Was her reply, "Where is Lyle?" she asked suddenly
Three men stared at her in ignorance.
Parker growled in frustration. "I want to know where he is. Now." She stomped into the lavatory and slammed the door behind her.
--
The darkness outside Parker's office window seemed thick and ominous. The niggling feeling of anxiety that had plagued her this morning had gradually grown throughout the day. Innocuous statements, innocently spoken by her staff, had served to intensify her nervousness. The sense of déjà vu wouldn't go away.
Now, glaring out at the darkened parking lot, Parker was convinced that her inner sense was trying to tell her something. Danger was lurking nearby. She could feel it. Her inability to identify what * it * was caused her frustration to rise to alarming levels.
"Miss Parker?"
Swirling around, Parker glared angrily at her young personal assistant. "Did I give you permission to come in?" she hissed.
"I knocked." Carl swallowed. "You must not have heard me. I may have found something important." The young man stepped up to her desk to hand her a crumpled slip of paper.
Parker snatched the note from Carl. It was a memo from the Triumvirate to Mr. Lyle.
"Your plan for subduing the rebellious nature of the subject has been approved. It is preferred that the terminations occur in one event in order to avoid suspicion from the authorities. The methods used shall be left to the discretion of The Centre." The paper read.
On the bottom portion of the paper, a pencil led had been brushed carefully across the sheet, revealing an impression caused by writing on an overlaying page. Two lines were barely legible, a time 11 PM, and an address 24642 Hempford Drive.
"I found it in Mr. Lyle's wastepaper basket." Carl said.
"This is it." Parker whispered. "I have to stop him."
The young man smiled slyly at her. "A Centre jet left Blue Cove early this afternoon headed for Indiana."
"Indiana?" Parker frowned. Adrenaline suddenly surged through her body. Urgency was essential. Her mind screamed at her to hurry. Grabbing her jacket from a nearby chair, Parker dashed toward the door. "Call the air strip." She barked as she ran. "I want to be in the air in ten minutes."
"Yes, Ma'am." Carl replied as he picked up the phone. But the office door had slammed shut behind her before he could finish his words.
Screeching to a halt on the tarmac, Parker jumped from her car and ran toward the waiting jet. As she bolted up the steps she growled. "Let's go. Let's go!"
Her inner sense began to whisper frantically, hissing in her ear. "Hurryhurryhurryhurry."
Fastening her seatbelt as the plane began to taxi down the runway, Parker closed her eyes and whispered a mental prayer to whatever fate had controlled her life. Lives were at stake in this. Parker wasn't sure who Lyle was targeting or why. She knew only that she had to stop him. Everything depended upon it. Everything.
--
"Hello." Jarod held his cell phone against his ear with one shoulder as he wiped his hands on a napkin.
"Jarod?" Parker's voice asked cautiously.
"Parker!" Jarod purred with surprise. Abandoning his half eaten slice of pizza, Jarod smiled. "Twice in one day. This is a treat."
"Shut up and listen." She snarled. "I've uncovered something important. Lyle is planning to kill someone. It's a Triumvirate sanctioned assassination."
"Who?" Jarod asked as the smile slid from his face.
"I don't know, but the memo I saw said something about a single event resulting in terminations, plural. More than one life is at stake." Parker said. "I have an address that I think may be the location but I'm still several hours away."
"And you thought that I might be closer." Jarod finished for her.
Parker shrugged. "I had hoped you might be." She admitted. "How far are you from Fort Wayne, Indiana?"
"I can be there by midnight." Jarod said quickly.
"This is going down at 11." Parker sighed in frustration.
"Then I'll be there by eleven." He said firmly. The urgency in Parker's voice alarmed Jarod. She sounded panicky and afraid.
Parker rattled off an address as Jarod slammed out the door. He didn't bother to waste time to collect any of his things. He would come back for them in a day or two. He jumped into his car and maneuvered on to the street.
"Hurry, Jarod." Parker's voice whispered tearfully through the phone. "We can't let this happen."
"We'll stop him, Parker." Jarod tried to reassure her. "We will."
A dial tone buzzed in Jarod's ear as Parker disconnected the call. Slipping the phone into his pocket, Jarod pressed down on the accelerator. He felt Parker's distress like a tangible thing. She was terrified. For the second time in one day, Parker was frightened and reaching out for help.
Jarod couldn't let her down.
--
The clock illuminated on the dashboard of Parker's rented car clicked from one minute to the next with alarming regularity. She drove as fast as she dared. The fear of being pulled over by the police and delayed in her journey, clawed at her mind.
It was 10:30. Parker estimated that it would take another twenty minutes or more to reach her destination. Anxiety forced her to increase her speed another notch as her vehicle zoomed down the rural two-lane highway. As she crested a small hill Parker came upon a light colored pickup truck in front of her. Annoyingly sticking to the posted speed limit, the vehicle chugged along, oblivious to the sedan now riding its bumper.
The two cars rounded a bend in the road and approached a straight section of the highway. Parker signaled and pressed on the gas pedal as she began to pass the slower vehicle. There was suddenly an ominous, low-pitched popping sound and the little truck began to shimmy in the lane. Parker reacted without thought, yanking the wheel to the left as the other driver abruptly lost control.
Parker was going too fast and she slammed on the brakes as her car swerved toward the truck. Holding her breath, Parker frantically tried to avoid a collision. The truck jerked, seeming to hop from the road as the front axel broke and the frame hit the road. Sparks flew as metal scraped against asphalt.
Yanking on the wheel hard in the opposite direction, Parker suddenly felt the sedan begin to spin beneath her. Like macabre dancers the two cars skidded in circles in the road. Parker was stunned motionless as the silver pickup truck flashed by, a bright blue racing stripe on its side.
The blue strip of color seemed to slash across Parker's vision like a blade. Gripping the wheel for all she was worth, Parker stared wide-eyed as the truck slid across the road and into the ditch. When the sedan finally came to a halt, the car was pointed in the wrong direction facing the ruined truck.
A moment later, a stunned Parker watched as the other driver climbed from his pickup and stumbled out of the ditch.
"Are you okay?" the man asked.
Parker squeezed her eyes shut tightly but she could not banish the bright blue metallic color from her mind. Behind closed lids, Parker's eyes replayed the blue flash. Intertwined with it came a rush of memory. Parker's dream from that morning unraveled in her mind with an intense speed and clarity. She remembered the fire that was coming, the blood and the deaths. She remembered dark eyes, once twinkling with mischief, turned empty and dead, staring at a crystal blue sky.
"No." Parker whimpered. There had been no dream, Parker realized. The images that had terrified her so had been a vision. It had been her inner sense plaguing her, urging her on all day.
"Are you okay?" the driver of the pickup had reached Parker's window and was staring at her with concern.
Trembling violently, Parker wrenched her car into gear without answering. Tires squealed as she swung the car around and sped off through the night.
--
Parker rounded a bend in the road and saw a familiar farmhouse. Careening up the dirt-covered drive Parker leaned on the horn in an attempt to rouse the occupants. Throwing the car into park, Parker dashed from the car, glancing back only long enough to register the glowing digits on the instrument panel.
"We're out of time." She whimpered.
Parker ran across the grassy yard. To her left, she saw a clothesline draped with freshly laundered sheets. The floral pattern on the cotton danced merrily in the light breeze, cruelly teasing Parker with a menace that only she could understand.
"ETHAN!" Parker began to scream.
Pounding up the steps and onto the porch, Parker didn't bother with the door. Yanking her gun from the holster at her back, Parker kicked violently at the front door. The wooden panel was no match for her panic-stricken ferocity. It burst open easily, rebounding against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
Standing wild-eyed in the hallway, Parker screamed again. "ETHAN!" Pointing her gun out the door she had just come through, Parker fired several rounds, hoping to wake any sleeping inhabitants and alert them to danger.
Major Charles suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway.
"Miss Parker?" He asked in surprise.
Additional members of Jarod's family stood behind the major in a bright room that seemed to be the kitchen. Ethan was among them.
Parker focused on her little brother and shot him a thought of pure panic. Ethan started to move away into the other room.
"No!" Parker cried as she ran after him. Tears of frustration sprung to her eyes. "GET OUT!" she yelled at the stunned group gathered before her. A young woman, presumably Jarod's sister Emily, stood dumbfounded, staring at Parker in horror.
"There's a bomb!" Parker screamed. Grabbing the girl by the shoulder, Parker shoved her toward another doorway, a side entrance that Ethan was already dashing through. "MOVE!" Parker demanded.
Suddenly, everyone was in motion at once. The Major grabbed his wife's arm and dragged her along with him as he propelled Emily forward. "Let's go, Jack!" He commanded.
A wide-eyed teenaged boy with dark hair spilling into his eyes, stood beside the kitchen table with an ice cream scooper in his hand. Weeping with urgency, Parker dashed to his side and yanked the boy forward by the collar of his shirt. Hauling the boy at her side Parker stumbled out the door only a few steps behind the rest of the family.
Parker felt the explosion more than she heard it. There was an abrupt gust of intense heat at her back as Parker was lifted into the air and pushed forward by the blast. Green grass rushed up to meet her as Parker slammed into the ground. She rolled onto her back just in time to see bright orange flames burst from the upper windows of the house. Black smoke began to block out the stars as Parker gasped and lost consciousness.
