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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Paula helped out and did this chapter for me, so here's some more - Niceole
Oh, and a cautionary warning for some language (but only a little bit).
The Truth Hurts
Part 26
by paula h
Disclaimer in part one
Broots and Sydney caught sight of Jarod as they exited the Tower elevator. He was being escorted into the Sublevels elevator. Broots stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the confusion on Jarod's face. "Syd, did you see him? God. He looked scared. And Mr. Parker was taking him down himself. What do ya' think that means?"
Sydney considered Jarod's appearance and company. "I'm not sure, Broots, but it appears we are not the only ones who lack information. I think I'll try again." Sydney turned back toward the elevator.
Broots turned with him but made no move to follow. "Do you want me to come?"
Sydney stopped and looked at the younger man. "No, it would be better if I went alone. Thank you."
"Oh, okay then," Broots was relieved, "I'll be in the lab. Be careful."
Sydney smiled and nodded shortly. Did he need to be careful with Miss Parker?
The elevator deposited Sydney on Margaret's floor of the Tower. He noted that the doors were closed but that did not stop him from walking through the reception area, knocking lightly, and entering Miss Parker's office.
Parker looked up, expecting Sam. She did not smile. "Did I invite you back?"
"No, but I thought you might need me."
"When have I ever told you I needed you or anyone else?"
"You may lie to yourself if you wish, Miss Parker. Please don't lie to me."
Parker paused for lack of a snappy retort. God, she did need him, but she could not involve him. It was too dangerous to everyone, especially her son.
Sydney noticed the unconscious movement of Parker's hand to her abdomen. "Are you ill, Miss Parker?"
Parker followed his gaze. She sighed. "Well, no, not really. And I guess you and everyone else will find out sooner or later. I'm pregnant."
Sydney was both shocked and overjoyed. "Jarod's?" he asked, sure he knew the answer.
"You presume far too much." She had to nip this in the bud. "First, that I would consider having the lab rat's child; second, that I would be satisfied with just one man, any man at any time; and third, that it's any of your business."
Knowing he would certainly see that lie in her face, she turned to the window.
He did see. "Pardon me."
"When, or if, Jarod asks, tell him it's not his." Parker knew the desperation had crept into her voice. She cleared her throat. "Now, since you seem so interested in my plans, I'll fill you in.
"I decided there was no way I was taking myself and my child on a lifelong road trip, so I came back. There was really not much choice. As to my relationship with Jarod, it was most certainly a mistake. His own mother pointed that out to me.
"On the other hand, she has graciously offered to take me under her wing and groom me to take my place at the helm of The Centre. Something my father may or may not like. But changes will happen, and happen soon. Margaret is a woman who values power, and I have no intention of being powerless again." Parker finished, wishing she could take back the last word she uttered.
"I see."
Parker rather hoped that he did, and prayed that he would not get involved. "You must respect my decisions and my wishes."
"I will, Parker," Sydney's voice took on a softness reminiscent of affection, "And congratulations."
At that second all Parker wanted to do was not cry. She mumbled, "Thank you."
Sydney nodded and turned to leave.
Parker could not keep herself from asking, "Did you see him?"
He turned back toward her. "Yes, your father took him down, assumedly to his rooms."
"How... did he look?" Could she be more transparent?
"Confused, Parker, as are we all." He looked at her again. He was about to say more when Sam knocked at the door. Syd looked at the sweeper and then back at Parker. "It's good they allowed you one familiar face. Remember there are others here who know you as well." He lifted an eyebrow and set a small smile to the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you, Sydney," Parker said and meant it. "Now I really do have work." She placed her hand lightly on his arm and escorted him out of the suite. She closed that door and turned to Sam. "Okay, what did I miss while I was gone?"
Neither Jarod nor Mr. Parker spoke on the elevator ride. Mr. Parker began to exit on an unfamiliar level and Jarod balked, "Where are you taking me?"
The sweepers who had accompanied them moved forward and Mr. Parker motioned them off. "To your new rooms. I had them prepared a short time ago, in hopes that you would find your way back here." Mr. Parker told the sweepers to wait outside while he and Jarod entered the door.
Jarod looked around. The room was large and airy, considering it was underground. Jarod looked at the ceiling; the vents were small. Apparently they had finally smartened up.
Mr. Parker followed Jarod's look. "Yes, um well, we can't have you slipping out through a vent now can we? Not after all the time and money we put into getting you back." He paused, pulled a small device from his pocket and switched it on. It emitted a low hum.
Jarod turned toward the older man, a questioning look on his face.
Mr. Parker smirked slightly. "State of the art. Now they can't hear a thing."
Jarod glanced at the corner of the room.
"Yes, there are cameras, but I ordered them turned off while I'm here. There are still a few people who fear me enough to be trusted."
"I assume your daughter is not among them?"
"Her loyalties appear to have switched... again." He gave Jarod a knowing look.
"Apparently that's a woman's privilege."
"Yes, um, about that," He cleared his throat, "I, ahh...I could use your help right now, Jarod."
"Why the hell would I do something for you?"
Mr. Parker smiled. "I see your mother hasn't tamed you."
"My mother," he covered the word with venom, "has another project."
Mr. Parker nodded. "My daughter; that's what I mean. What do you know?"
"I only know what I'm allowed to know. The same as always." Jarod said pointedly.
"That could change."
"Oh, and I'll jump on that offer. You think I'd believe anything you say?"
"Do you want Margaret Abbott in charge of The Centre?"
Jarod held out his arms and looked around the room. "And that would affect me how?
"Everything here affects you, Jarod, you're part of The Centre. Before you were even born your life was intertwined with my daughter's, and The Centre."
"We came together before, didn't we?"
"Yes," Mr. Parker looked down, "but you planned to leave, hide if necessary, and that couldn't be. The Triumvirate ordered you stopped."
"How many times?" Jarod's voice nearly cracked; he started again, "How many times did you steal our memories?"
"That's not germane to the situation. And it seems that the last effort was ineffective."
"For your daughter," Jarod decided to peal back the onion a bit, "I think it's because of her gift."
"Yes, I suppose..."
So, Margaret had not told him about Ethan or Cameron, and neither had Parker. That was interesting. Jarod was not about to share the news. "I expect it will work better on me."
"She plans to wipe your memory?" Mr. Parker was genuinely surprised. "But why?"
"I'm not very cooperative." Jarod smiled wryly. "She thinks it will make me a happy little servant again."
"It might, but it seems a waste."
Jarod thought the Chairman might be sincere. "Feel free to convince her of that."
"Humph, she could care less about my opinion, and I suspect her current fixation on my daughter's ascendance to the 'throne' is more about thwarting me. Margaret wants to take over the Centre; I know it. We've bested one another over the years, Raines, her and myself, but now she's put her influence behind my daughter, the one person she knows I won't destroy."
Jarod cocked his head to one side.
"I know you don't believe me. And I know I've never been able to show it, but I do love her as best I can. I do want her to take the reins of The Centre from me eventually, but not under Margaret's thumb."
"Well, by this time tomorrow I doubt if I will know the difference or care."
"Surely you can think of some way to talk her out of wiping your memory. It's important, Jarod. You could do it. You manipulate people all the time. Hell, you manipulated my daughter, didn't you?"
Jarod could not deny he had manipulated Parker. But that was before, and a part of their game. Somewhere along the line they had realized they were in love and it all changed. Now they knew it had changed long before two months past. They had been forced to relive their discovery over and over in hopes they would get it right according to some undefined Centre rules.
The elder Parker took Jarod's silence as admission. "You know you've hurt her a time or two? I didn't like it and I still remember it, even if you don't. But I, we, have bigger worries now."
"I'll work on it." Jarod felt as though he was being pulled into a game against his will. Then again, all this was against his will. At least now he might be a player, and he found he rather liked that idea. Maybe his mother was right about him.
Mr. Parker blessed Jarod with his biggest smile. "That's m' boy!" He clapped him jovially on the back. "Well, now that that's settled I must be going. We'll talk again after I see what Margaret's up too." He switched off the jamming device. "If you need anything there's an intercom by the door. No work till tomorrow at least. Relax."
Jarod almost laughed at that possibility. "Does this mean I'm not being given back to Lyle?" He felt a chill run up his spine at the thought.
"I'll see to it that we don't repeat the... mistakes of the past. Lyle and Mr. Raines are away on business for the present. If it seems... advantageous Lyle can be kept busy at the Tokyo Office for the time being. I'll deal with Raines when he gets back." The elder man lifted an eyebrow, so that Jarod knew it was a done deal. And then he left.
Margaret decided it was good to be back in the States, but she was tired and jetlagged. She spent the majority of her first day back in her room with a blinding headache.
Miss Parker returned to the compound with the sunset. Margaret still felt ill but she dressed and joined her new protégé for supper. Actually, she found the meal productive. Miss Parker was polite but aloof, and focused her attention on her food. Margaret was not in the mood for banter anyway. She posed a few general questions but she did not need the short replies she got. Both knew that she would get a play-by-play of everything that had happened at The Centre. She just wanted to remind Parker of her interest.
It was good policy to remind Parker that her actions were monitored. After supper, Margaret made a point of going to her study and watching the video of Parker's meeting with her father. She also watched Jarod's homecoming. She was displeased to learn that Mr. Parker's visit to Jarod's new rooms went unrecorded. She wondered what the old fool had up his sleeve.
Margaret went to bed content with her progress over the last few days. It would be good to groom Parker's daughter for her rightful place as his successor, even though it should not be his. The next step was eliminating their competition, one way or another, and then there was the small problem of Jarod.
The first thing Margaret did when she woke was call The Centre. It was seven o'clock and she felt her team of doctors had been given ample time to formulate a complete care plan for Jarod. The doctors said that arrangements, meaning the medications, would not be complete until late afternoon. Further questioning revealed that the first batch of a very important constituent had been improperly formulated; it might have destroyed Jarod's short-term memory. Still, Margaret was dissatisfied with the delay. She knew that if she had not succumbed to the headache yesterday, and gone to The Centre herself, things would have moved smoother and faster. She disliked weakness, even in herself. It wasted time.
Margaret saw Parker in passing as the younger woman hurried out the door. It made little difference to her whether Parker was anxious to be at work or gone from the house as long as she complied with their agreement. On the DSAs from the previous day Parker appeared compliant but troubled. She might need tweaking. Not her work; she was a fine administrator; had always done excellent work when she was at Corporate. But Parker needed to harden her resolve, come to terms with their deal and her new life. Margaret was expert at separating herself from emotions; she intended to teach her apprentice everything she knew.
Jarod had spent the previous day seething because he was back where he belonged. Today was a new day, and hopefully he finally understood who she was, what he was, and what was expected of him. He was waiting for her to clean up his memories, and she would have preferred to do it today. Now the wipe would have to wait until tomorrow morning.
Margaret adjusted her schedule. She had plenty of other business that would benefit from her attention. She could use Jarod to test another variable; it was time to see if Sydney had to be replaced. Besides which she wanted to call upon Mr. Parker today to say hello, update him on his daughter, and keep him under her thumb.
Raines might be more difficult. Thoughts of him soured Margaret's mood as she left the compound. She placed a few phone calls to check on his whereabouts, and Lyle's.
The Swiss financial puzzle was not complicated, purposely so. Margaret only wanted Raines out of the way until Jarod and Parker made their homecoming. She wanted him back before Lyle. The ghoul had no friends - and did not need any - he knew how to maneuver. But once the Triumvirate reviewed his uses of Centre funds he would be off to Africa for a while. No one but Lyle would rally to his defense if he was attacked, and Lyle could be kept busy.
Lyle was still occupied in Hong Kong. The bankers Margaret bought had done an especially good job of fouling up Centre accounts there. Margaret told them they could "lose" a few hundred thousand if necessary, and they did. Sadly for the bankers' families, she was certain some of it went into their pockets. Lyle would take care of it; her losses would be minimal. He had a flight booked for Seoul in four days, which meant he felt confident he would have the problems solved.
The Korean office had a few financial irregularities, which Margaret did not instigate, but they were not serious. The Seoul business might delay him two days. Margaret knew what Lyle's father knew about his predilection for Asian women, partying, and the occasional lost weekend. Korea had a few enticements she thought Lyle might like, and she had ensured that Lyle would find them all.When he got enough of that and came home she would have to deal with him. Hopefully his father would be out of the picture by then.
Margaret's arrived at The Centre with no fanfare. Some might say she snuck in the back door. She preferred to think of driving into a lower parking level and taking the private elevator to her office level as being discreet.
She had an odd anonymity at The Centre. Here she was Miss Abbott, seldom seen, former staff psychologist, and former head of Centre European Corporate. She was one of the few who came and went as she pleased. Her office suite was used little more than once a year but it was a monument to her ability. No one asked bout the empty offices on that floor, not did they seek information of any of the absentee tenants. If any did they were soon gone.
Margaret was an intimidating figure, in a severely cut indigo suit, white silk shell and handmade snakeskin pumps, as she walked through her sparsely staffed office. She preferred it empty. She smiled benignly at the temporary receptionist. Her smile was one of her best tools. The young woman would forget the dragon lady and think of her as a kind boss who took the time to greet even the lowly.
Her office was exactly as Margaret left it. She took a moment to check messages and look out the window at the cove. It was a beautifully clear winter day; the large vase of roses on the window ledge was a striking contrast. A smaller, less obtrusive, arrangement on her desk was equally lovely. Margaret liked fresh flowers, so beautiful, so transient, and so disposable. Centre business could wait a moment; she had a personal matter to attend.
Margaret left her office and opened the door to Parker's office unannounced. She took a step into the room and waited for acknowledgement.
Parker looked up at the sound, surprised and displeased. She adjusted her expression when she saw recognized her intruder. "Margaret," in a barely impolite tone, "what can I do for you?"
Margaret walked the rest of the way into the room and sat down. "At The Centre I prefer to be called 'Miss Abbott,' if you don't mind."
"As you wish." Parker returned he eyes to her deskwork, her attention was riveted on the other woman.
"This is when you tell me how happy you are to be home, or at least welcome me back."
"Do I need to lie to you, too?" Parker asked. She paused and added, "welcome back," in her flattest voice.
Margaret raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Thank you, and no, lying to me is not generally required or tolerated." Such an easy point to win. "So, how is Jarod?"
"I wouldn't know, would I?"
"Just checking. I've decided to allow Sydney to see him today."
"You've wiped his memory already?" Parkers voice rose with the speed of her heartbeat.
"No, that is slightly postponed due to technical difficulties." She frowned. "So I've changed strategies. This way it won't matter what Sydney asks or says to Jarod. It will all disappear. And I will know if Sydney can fulfill his duties."
"If he can't?"
"He has other projects, and they can be continued at another Centre facility. I think Mr. Broots will join him wherever."
"Broots is my assistant."
"Broots is a field man. You don't need him up here. If his services are ever required you can call him back as a consultant. You should feel lucky that I've allowed you to keep your old personal sweeper. Three things influenced that decision. Your Sam is good at his job; he is personally loyal to you – a valuable thing when you may become a target - and he was not at all involved in your little escapade. Your role at The Centre has changed Miss Parker, let go of your past."
Parker had little choice. "I am."
Margaret smiled "Then I'm pleased. Call Sydney and tell him to visit his favorite. I'm sure he's been concerned...and curious." Margaret's smile faded. "Tell him to try a simulation." She rose and walked out the door.
Parker phoned Sydney and relayed the message. She also told him to call her immediately when he returned to his office. She doubted that Margaret would approve of the second order.
Sydney was pleased with the opportunity to see Jarod. Parker's curt phone call left him guessing about her motives, but for the moment he did not care. He gathered files for a relatively innocuous sim as ordered. He doubted Jarod would be willing, and assumed that was the point.
Jarod was sitting alone, beside a plain table in a minor workroom, when Sydney arrived. He gave the psychologist a half-smile by way of greeting.
Sydney returned the smile as he put a small pile of files on the worktable. He sat down in a straight chair directly across from Jarod. Sydney started to reach out but drew back his hand when Jarod crossed his arms. He lowered his eyes briefly to the files and raised them again. "It's good to see you."
"I didn't expect to see you until after."
"After?"
"After my memory was expunged and I was back in tool mode. You know, plain white cotton prison clothes, the whole deal."
There was little Sydney could say. He tried to understand what Jarod was feeling; he was not sure he should ask.
"You did know they've been wiping my memory over the years, didn't you?" Jarod leaned forward in challenge.
"No, Jarod, I did not."
"Come now, Sydney, are you that stupid? Or that blind?"
"I suspected that they had done something at the time Miss Parker was sent away to school. I could not be sure. But, considering your... reaction at the time..."
"I tried to kill myself, didn't I?"
"Yes, and you were almost successful." Sydney relived the guilt of not anticipating the attempt. There was a short silence before Sydney continued. "You were young, Jarod, barely a man. Miss Parker was precocious. Neither of you had an outlet for your curiosity. It should not have been a surprise when you started to explore with one another."
"You thought it was just two randy teenagers?" Jarod sat back.
"So to speak; I thought it was infatuation. I actually approved of Mr. Parker's decision to separate you."
"Because she was too good for a lab rat."
"Because you were both too young to know what you were doing. And The Centre is a very unforgiving environment. I assumed that you would get over it quickly; you had plenty of assignments to occupy your mind. When you became morose I took it for a normal level of adolescent dramatics." He stopped again and looked Jarod in the eye. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
"About the wipe?"
"I prescribed a strong antidepressant. When you ceased speaking about Miss Parker I was relieved. You went on with your work. When she came to visit months later and you greeted her formally I thought you were deliberately distancing yourself. I saw what I wanted to see and ignored the possibility that someone had manipulated your thoughts."
"Someone other than you, you mean." Jarod was grim. "Not to worry, Syd, my mother did it, and she plans to do it again."
"Surely not!" Sydney stopped mid-refutation. This was The Centre; there was nothing beyond belief. Suddenly, Miss Parker's demand that he confine conversations with Jarod to business made perfect sense. She knew his memory was going to be wiped and wanted it to stay that way. Sydney frowned. He asked the forbidden question. "What happened?"
"I've been told I broke Parker's heart a few times over the years. Apparently, she decided to return the favor."
"I don't believe it's as simple as a moment of pique, Jarod. There is far more behind this than a change of heart."
"You assume Centre women have hearts. I think there's plenty of evidence to the contrary."
"Catherine was..."
"Parker's mother and one of the founders of this hell." Jarod said abruptly; he brought clenched fists down on the table. "You know what, Sydney? I don't want to talk about this any more." He pushed himself back from the table and crossed his arms. "My guess is that you're here for more than old times. So let's skip the social visit and show me what you've got for me to do."
Sydney did not argue; he opened a file. "I brought a simple sim, if you are willing." He watched for Jarod's reaction; there was none. "Three Hong Kong investment houses had massive amounts of money disappear a few days ago. Previous to this, several brokers were accused of skimming funds. One was cleared and the others are reimbursing their firms."
"No arrests?"
"These are international houses with multinational clients. They want things handled internally, and quietly. They think the latest event was long planned, the 'one big job' and then they were going to disappear."
"They were working together?" Jarod was skeptical.
"There is evidence to that effect. Two men from one house were definitely in collaboration; the other two were not, previous to this. All deny any involvement in this incident." Sydney pushed several files with financial information across the table.
Jarod moved back to the table. "Why would The Centre be concerned with simple embezzlement?" Jarod scanned a file of figures. He laughed aloud. "Never mind, I see. It's Centre money. Big bucks. They thought they could get away with Centre money?" He laughed again.
"You did."
"I kept moving." Jarod continued to read. "This trail leads to Swiss banks. This is why Lyle and Raines were both absent at my arrival?" He glanced at Sydney for confirmation.
Sydney nodded.
"Nice, nicely arranged." He nodded to himself and opened another file, and a third. He pointed to the first. "This trail is way too obvious. The two-man team was good; they were caught strictly by accident. The others got too greedy, but not to this level. The Centre fiasco, ten million suddenly missing," Jarod chuckled, "was just too heavy handed. Tell Lyle he can pull the toothpicks out from under their fingernails. It wasn't them." Jarod looked at Sydney from under his eyebrows; he pushed the files back across the table.
"If not them, then who did it?"
"Unless it's The Centre Widows and Orphans Fund, I could care less." Jarod leaned back and smiled. "As far as I can tell this just keeps Lyle off me. The longer he's gone, the better."
"You're sure it wasn't the men accused?"
"No, it was three other men, a triumvirate of sorts," Jarod found himself amusing. "They're not as good as they think. Even Lyle can find them if he opens his eyes."
Sydney sensed desperation in Jarod's amusement; he felt powerless to help and it showed in his face.
The sympathy angered Jarod. He stood abruptly, knocking his chair back as he did. "Sorry to see me back here, Sydney? You shouldn't be. According to the women in my life," he gestured wildly, "this is where I belong." He started pacing. "And after today I won't remember. They can tell me I've been blissfully happy and I'll believe them."
"You were unhappy for a long while, Jarod; I had to ignore it."
"Turning a blind eye is a Centre job requirement."
"There are times I find it difficult to live with the guilt."
"There's plenty to go around. You should all be drowning in it."
"Perhaps there's something I can do..."
"Empty offer. The big boys are tossing me around now. If I'm ever going to have any control of my life at all, I have to court favor with one of them."
"Miss Parker?" The near-rage on Jarod's face answered Sydney. "Mr. Parker?"
"I suspect he's being replaced."
"Your mother?" Sydney was incredulous.
"She seems to be the current top dog. I guess I better cozy up to her while I still can. Maybe I can be the next Lyle."
"Is that what you want, Jarod?" Had he changed that much?
"It's too fucking late to worry about me now." Jarod went to the door and pounded it with his fist. A sweeper opened the door and looked questioningly at both men. Jarod said, "Get me out of here."
Sydney nodded. Jarod was escorted from the room without a backward glance. Sydney dropped his head to his hand in frustration and sorrow.
Miss Parker desperately needed to get out of her bright sunny office. She knew a dungeon when she was in one; fresh flowers only dressed it up a little. Sydney's call came when she was hanging on by a thread; she jumped at the chance for motion.
Sam was sitting in the hall, reading the newspaper for the third time when she streaked past. He rose and followed her to the elevator. Parker started to dismiss him, but recognized her feelings mirrored in his face. She nodded permission.
Parker sent Sam for coffee while she went in to Sydney's office. "Well?" in a tone of voice from another life.
Sydney felt a wave of nostalgia for that life, bad as it was, it seemed idyllic next to the present. "Please have a seat, Miss Parker." He indicated a comfortable chair.
"I don't have time to hang out with the 'gang,' Syd. I've graduated from Scooby-Doo and moved up to the Tower."
"That is becoming obvious."
"Good, then just tell me how your visit with Jarod went. Was it like old times?"
"No. He cooperated only as long as it suited him. Jarod is not the man who left here. He is very angry; he will not be satisfied with 'old times' and he wants a say in his future."
Parker swallowed; she carefully controlled her voice. "Did he say anything about his future?"
"Nothing you don't know," he suggested. "He did say something about your past. Your memories were altered?" he asked.
"Why yes, Syd, courtesy of Jarod's mother and with the permission of my father," she answered bitterly.
"And they are going to do so again?"
"Not to me."
"I see. And that explains why Jarod is so resentful. He does not want things to go back to the way they were."
"There's no going back for me. I just have to keep pushing forward."
"And trample anyone you knock down on the way?"
"If that's what it takes." She stood. "And the real question is do you have what it takes, Sydney? Can you go back to working with Jarod?"
"I don't think he wants me to. The dynamics have changed. In the past, Jarod saw me as a father figure, whether I encouraged it or not. Now he's found his father and, unfortunately, his mother. I was his 'Refuge;' now he knows I cannot protect him. He's decided he can only depend upon himself."
"One too many disappointments can do that to you."
"He intends to pursue a more powerful patron, his mother."
"Really?" Parker was surprised. "That's quite a change of heart."
"The heart is a very changeable thing," he said in a knowing tone.
"Jesus. Spare me the sap. Okay, Syd? Send me a report." Parker got up and left the office. Sam handed her a large decaf as she passed. She concentrated on drinking the coffee without spilling it or burning her mouth, while she and Sam caught the Tower elevator. She did not want to think about what Jarod was going through or what he might do.
Parker walked straight into Margaret's office, unannounced, just to see her reaction.
Margaret seemed amused. "I've always admired your chutzpah, Miss Parker," her smile remained but her tone changed, "but don't ever do that again."
Parker refused to react.
"I intend to be available to you at any time; absolutely no one else can make that claim. But I demand that you give me notice before making an appearance, understood?"
"Yes. Might I expect the same respect from you?" Parker kept her voice formally friendly.
Margaret considered for a beat. "Point made. I will return the courtesy."
Parker nodded. "I just came from speaking with Sydney; he met with Jarod. May I sit?"
Margaret pointed toward a chair. "And?"
"We'll get his formal report." She sat. "First, I need to ask you a question, and I want a blunt answer. Did you mean it when you said Sydney won't be punished if he doesn't work with Jarod?"
"He's decided he doesn't want to?"
"It may not be up to him. He told me Jarod wanted to work for you. Have you two come to an agreement?"
"Don't get your hopes up."
"I'm not; I know the deal. I was just surprised."
"No, no agreement." Margaret put her hand to her chin, "But his saying that is interesting. Last I spoke to him he was openly furious."
"I think he still is. He vented at Sydney."
"That will change when the past few years are gone from his memory. I'll read the doctor's report and perhaps offer him another opportunity after tomorrow."
"You still intend to do it? Wipe his memory tomorrow?"
"Yes, Parker, I intend to follow the plan, and hold you to our deal."
"You are so cold," Parker said with long-standing disgust.
"I am, and when you reach the point where you can sacrifice anything, yourself, all the relationships you've built, even your child, then you will be ready to run The Centre. It's bigger than human emotion, and more important than any one person, even flesh and blood. Once you understand and believe that, you will be ready for the power that The Centre can give you."
"You make it sound like we'll control the world."
"Something like that." Margaret smiled and rose from her chair. "I have an appointment downstairs. I want a copy of Sydney's report as soon as you get it." Margaret did not wait for a reply.
Parker walked out of Margaret's office behind her.
Margaret took the private elevator down. She would save the grand entrance till the time was right...soon. She walked confidently toward the Chairman's office, gathering clandestine stares as she went. Let them wonder for now. Margaret was on her way to make her presence known to Mr. Parker. En route she decided to offer him a graceful exit. Eventually some accident might befall him but that could wait.
The olive branch was not meant for him but for Miss Parker, as a reward for early good behavior, and an incentive to move smoothly into her father's position.
Mr. Parker was working at his desk when his secretary announced Miss Abbott. He knew she was coming to glory in his Angel's return. He already knew she was in the building; had known the second she arrived. He wondered if she had expected him to request a meeting. He would not give her the satisfaction of calling, let alone run up there.
Margaret walked into the office with a smile on her face.
Mr. Parker rose and returned the false affability. "Margaret, it's been a while." He extended a hand to her.
Margaret took it in hers. "Yes, far too long." They shook hands and held on a beat longer than necessary. Both continued standing.
"My daughter tells me she's ready to take her place here."
"Yes, are you ready to step out of her way?"
"She's not at the point where she can take over as Chairperson."
"She never will be, according to you."
His expression darkened. "This is what I've wanted, planned for, all her life."
"Planning and action aren't the same thing. It's time to get on with it."
"You won't just push me out of your way." He said stridently.
"I expect," she said with emphasis, "you to do what's necessary, or I may have
to."
"Are you threatening me?" he bellowed.
"No," she backed down strategically. She knew she had pushed too soon. "I didn't intend to put it quite that way. But once the Triumvirate knows about her...and the baby..." she trailed off when she saw surprise on the Chairman's face. So Parker hadn't told him.
"She's pregnant?"
"Yes, although apparently not ready to announce it. Now that there will be a child, the future is assured."
"Yes, this does change things." Mr. Parker was vaguely preoccupied.
"We need her to commit herself as soon as possible. You can facilitate that, and be around to enjoy your grandchild. Think about it." She lifted an eyebrow suggestively.
Mr. Parker caught her offer. He had no intention of taking it, but Margaret did not need to know that. He got over his surprise and went straight to his ineffectual shambling act. "Yes, yes, commitment to The Centre. And a child... this changes everything."
Margaret left him seemingly lost in thought. She did not expect him to go this easily. But she had other options, and more dangerous fish to fry. She returned to her office.
The remainder of Margaret's day was spent on European affairs, mostly financial. She checked on the Swiss accounts; all was progressing nicely. It was time to let Raines know about the homecoming. She had Buchan "leak" the information to the right people. Soon Mr. Raines would be in a hurry to get back to the States.
All in all, Margaret felt it had been another successful day. After leaving The Centre she put aside business, including Sydney's report on Jarod, and spent the night reading. At midnight she called Buchan, for a massage.
First thing the next morning Margaret watched the DSA of Jarod's meeting with
Sydney. She definitely wanted to see him before his memory adjustment. It might be interesting to see what he thought now. She decided to soften her look for the meeting, and chose a camel wool suit with a brown satin blouse. She considered wearing her hair down but that might be too much. Jarod knew he had been played; he might consider the hair a reminder and an insult.
Miss Parker was gone before Margaret left her own rooms. She did not rush to follow her but went directly to Parker's office when she reached The Centre. This time she had herself announced just before she walked in the door.
Parker was no more pleased with this visit than yesterday's. "Do you ever give forewarning of an appearance?" a pause, "Oh, and of course, good morning."
"No. And to cut to the chase, I'm going down to see Jarod now. After that he won't remember escaping The Centre, your affair or your child."
"I see." Parker wanted desperately to plead with her but did not.
"It's our deal, Parker, and you may find it's for the best in the long run."
Parker did not reply as she fought against opposing impulses to burst into tears or jump across the desk to throttle Margaret. Her fists clenched.
Margaret noticed. "Overall, you're doing well; I'm inclined to overlook the little things, like your current anger with me."
Parker flattened her hands on the desk and adjusted her expression.
Margaret nodded. "Time will show I'm correct. Passion dims; The Centre remains." She stood. "Oh, there's one thing you need to do soon. Announce or leak the news of your pregnancy. I don't care how you do it. Some secrets still cannot be kept forever." She left Parker staring at the closing door.
Margaret took the rear elevator to the garage again. She got out on the garage level and crossed to the Centre sublevel elevator. From there to Jarod's room took only moments.
Jarod knew his mother would be coming to see him before she had his memory wiped. She would want to gloat. He told himself he would greet her warmly, he would talk calmly, he would not beg her for his memory, he would convince her. But when he saw her, all the pain came flooding back and his voice came out as a growl. "What took you so long?"
"Are you in such a hurry to forget?"
Jarod's breath caught. "No." He wanted to remember everything, every discovery, every moment of passion, every second of joy, everything, even if it included the despair he felt now. He wanted to remember his son. He swallowed his pride and cleared his throat. "Would it make any difference... is there some way I can convince you not to do this?"
That peaked Margaret's interest. "Have you got a proposition for me, ...son?"
Jarod almost lost his temper. The bitch knew all the buttons; Buchan was right she was good at manipulation. "Yes, an honest one, ...Mother."
Margaret smiled. "Good. Let's hear it."
"I perform. I become the trained monkey I was before, and you let me keep my memory."
"Go on."
"I have changed; you said so. I think my experience could improve my 'value' to The Centre."
"That's it? That's hardly a proposal. I get that either way."
Jarod knew he was loosing the game. She saw right through him; he decided to try the actual truth. He took a deep breath and forced the air slowly out of his lungs. He took another breath and looked her in the eye. "I want my son."
"Ah, but there's the rub, Jarod, you can't have him. That's not part of any scenario."
"I want to see him grow up."
"Even if it means never acknowledging him or going near him?"
Jarod considered for an anguished instant. "Yes."
Margaret studied him. She smiled sympathetically. "I don't believe you." She put her hand on his arm. "Let's go."
Jarod pulled away. "No."
"I can call six sweepers in here."
"I could kill you before they got here." He meant it.
Margaret knew he did. He had changed. It startled and exhilarated her. "Don't be infantile. If I die, you die and your son will disappear."
Jarod knew that was true. He walked out of the room ahead of her.
Margaret directed him to another room a short way down the hall. There were two men in lab coats, a treatment table and a few pieces of equipment.
Jarod balked. "There are things you'll erase that you may want to know."
Margaret put a hand to Jarod's back and he moved to the center of the room. She beckoned the men; Jarod went with them to the table. They strapped him down. Margaret followed and stood over him.
Jarod involuntarily fought the restraints; he was near panic. "I know things."
Margaret ignored him. She turned to the technicians. "Give me the first syringe and then leave us alone. Go tell the doctors we're ready." The men complied. She returned her attention to Jarod. "What things?"
Jarod eyed the syringe as Margaret flicked a bubble free of the glass. "I know about some financial misconduct, information you could twist to make any of them look like they stole Centre funds, like you did in Hong Kong."
"Why, Jarod, that's so dishonest of you. How many people have you told, including Sydney?"
"No one. I wanted to prove you could trust me." His voice was close to a growl.
She lifted and eyebrow and smiled. "You should have cooperated sooner." She forced liquid out of the needle. "Not telling Sydney probably saved his life."
"I know things about Lyle," he said through gritted teeth.
"Things I don't know?" she asked, interested again.
"You know he's a serial killer?"
"I have suspicions. You have proof?"
"If you let me I can send the FBI and authorities in three Asian countries information. If they coordinate efforts they could convict him without Centre involvement." Jarod was breathing hard. That was his trump card, if she wanted an excuse to help him.
"Now that is interesting," she paused, "but I just don't think it's enough." She pulled his arm around slightly and inserted the needle into a vein.
Jarod grimaced. "Mother, please!" He had promised himself he would not beg, but he couldn't help it. "Don't do this again." He felt the fluid surging into his vein. "I will help you, do what you want, pretend to be what you want." He felt Margaret remove the needle and consciousness fade. "Please...don't let Lyle near my son...or Parker... please... pl..." He lost the ability to speak. He looked up at his mother, knowing she had won and knew he would loose all memory of his son.
Margaret watched Jarod struggle against his restraints and the drug's inescapable effects. He had done a nice job of presenting his case. She would have preferred that he had not begged, but his reasonableness was an improvement to past behavior.
Jarod stared at her until his eyes closed and his breathing relaxed. His forehead was covered with sweat and his too-long hair had fallen across one eye. She reached down to push it away as she had done when she played her mommy part. She caught herself in the tender action. Perhaps she had learned that role too well; she was irritated with herself for it.
The doctors were coming into the room and Margaret turned to leave. With one last analytical look at her son, she wondered just how damning that Lyle information really was.
Oh, and a cautionary warning for some language (but only a little bit).
Part 26
by paula h
Disclaimer in part one
Broots and Sydney caught sight of Jarod as they exited the Tower elevator. He was being escorted into the Sublevels elevator. Broots stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the confusion on Jarod's face. "Syd, did you see him? God. He looked scared. And Mr. Parker was taking him down himself. What do ya' think that means?"
Sydney considered Jarod's appearance and company. "I'm not sure, Broots, but it appears we are not the only ones who lack information. I think I'll try again." Sydney turned back toward the elevator.
Broots turned with him but made no move to follow. "Do you want me to come?"
Sydney stopped and looked at the younger man. "No, it would be better if I went alone. Thank you."
"Oh, okay then," Broots was relieved, "I'll be in the lab. Be careful."
Sydney smiled and nodded shortly. Did he need to be careful with Miss Parker?
The elevator deposited Sydney on Margaret's floor of the Tower. He noted that the doors were closed but that did not stop him from walking through the reception area, knocking lightly, and entering Miss Parker's office.
Parker looked up, expecting Sam. She did not smile. "Did I invite you back?"
"No, but I thought you might need me."
"When have I ever told you I needed you or anyone else?"
"You may lie to yourself if you wish, Miss Parker. Please don't lie to me."
Parker paused for lack of a snappy retort. God, she did need him, but she could not involve him. It was too dangerous to everyone, especially her son.
Sydney noticed the unconscious movement of Parker's hand to her abdomen. "Are you ill, Miss Parker?"
Parker followed his gaze. She sighed. "Well, no, not really. And I guess you and everyone else will find out sooner or later. I'm pregnant."
Sydney was both shocked and overjoyed. "Jarod's?" he asked, sure he knew the answer.
"You presume far too much." She had to nip this in the bud. "First, that I would consider having the lab rat's child; second, that I would be satisfied with just one man, any man at any time; and third, that it's any of your business."
Knowing he would certainly see that lie in her face, she turned to the window.
He did see. "Pardon me."
"When, or if, Jarod asks, tell him it's not his." Parker knew the desperation had crept into her voice. She cleared her throat. "Now, since you seem so interested in my plans, I'll fill you in.
"I decided there was no way I was taking myself and my child on a lifelong road trip, so I came back. There was really not much choice. As to my relationship with Jarod, it was most certainly a mistake. His own mother pointed that out to me.
"On the other hand, she has graciously offered to take me under her wing and groom me to take my place at the helm of The Centre. Something my father may or may not like. But changes will happen, and happen soon. Margaret is a woman who values power, and I have no intention of being powerless again." Parker finished, wishing she could take back the last word she uttered.
"I see."
Parker rather hoped that he did, and prayed that he would not get involved. "You must respect my decisions and my wishes."
"I will, Parker," Sydney's voice took on a softness reminiscent of affection, "And congratulations."
At that second all Parker wanted to do was not cry. She mumbled, "Thank you."
Sydney nodded and turned to leave.
Parker could not keep herself from asking, "Did you see him?"
He turned back toward her. "Yes, your father took him down, assumedly to his rooms."
"How... did he look?" Could she be more transparent?
"Confused, Parker, as are we all." He looked at her again. He was about to say more when Sam knocked at the door. Syd looked at the sweeper and then back at Parker. "It's good they allowed you one familiar face. Remember there are others here who know you as well." He lifted an eyebrow and set a small smile to the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you, Sydney," Parker said and meant it. "Now I really do have work." She placed her hand lightly on his arm and escorted him out of the suite. She closed that door and turned to Sam. "Okay, what did I miss while I was gone?"
Neither Jarod nor Mr. Parker spoke on the elevator ride. Mr. Parker began to exit on an unfamiliar level and Jarod balked, "Where are you taking me?"
The sweepers who had accompanied them moved forward and Mr. Parker motioned them off. "To your new rooms. I had them prepared a short time ago, in hopes that you would find your way back here." Mr. Parker told the sweepers to wait outside while he and Jarod entered the door.
Jarod looked around. The room was large and airy, considering it was underground. Jarod looked at the ceiling; the vents were small. Apparently they had finally smartened up.
Mr. Parker followed Jarod's look. "Yes, um well, we can't have you slipping out through a vent now can we? Not after all the time and money we put into getting you back." He paused, pulled a small device from his pocket and switched it on. It emitted a low hum.
Jarod turned toward the older man, a questioning look on his face.
Mr. Parker smirked slightly. "State of the art. Now they can't hear a thing."
Jarod glanced at the corner of the room.
"Yes, there are cameras, but I ordered them turned off while I'm here. There are still a few people who fear me enough to be trusted."
"I assume your daughter is not among them?"
"Her loyalties appear to have switched... again." He gave Jarod a knowing look.
"Apparently that's a woman's privilege."
"Yes, um, about that," He cleared his throat, "I, ahh...I could use your help right now, Jarod."
"Why the hell would I do something for you?"
Mr. Parker smiled. "I see your mother hasn't tamed you."
"My mother," he covered the word with venom, "has another project."
Mr. Parker nodded. "My daughter; that's what I mean. What do you know?"
"I only know what I'm allowed to know. The same as always." Jarod said pointedly.
"That could change."
"Oh, and I'll jump on that offer. You think I'd believe anything you say?"
"Do you want Margaret Abbott in charge of The Centre?"
Jarod held out his arms and looked around the room. "And that would affect me how?
"Everything here affects you, Jarod, you're part of The Centre. Before you were even born your life was intertwined with my daughter's, and The Centre."
"We came together before, didn't we?"
"Yes," Mr. Parker looked down, "but you planned to leave, hide if necessary, and that couldn't be. The Triumvirate ordered you stopped."
"How many times?" Jarod's voice nearly cracked; he started again, "How many times did you steal our memories?"
"That's not germane to the situation. And it seems that the last effort was ineffective."
"For your daughter," Jarod decided to peal back the onion a bit, "I think it's because of her gift."
"Yes, I suppose..."
So, Margaret had not told him about Ethan or Cameron, and neither had Parker. That was interesting. Jarod was not about to share the news. "I expect it will work better on me."
"She plans to wipe your memory?" Mr. Parker was genuinely surprised. "But why?"
"I'm not very cooperative." Jarod smiled wryly. "She thinks it will make me a happy little servant again."
"It might, but it seems a waste."
Jarod thought the Chairman might be sincere. "Feel free to convince her of that."
"Humph, she could care less about my opinion, and I suspect her current fixation on my daughter's ascendance to the 'throne' is more about thwarting me. Margaret wants to take over the Centre; I know it. We've bested one another over the years, Raines, her and myself, but now she's put her influence behind my daughter, the one person she knows I won't destroy."
Jarod cocked his head to one side.
"I know you don't believe me. And I know I've never been able to show it, but I do love her as best I can. I do want her to take the reins of The Centre from me eventually, but not under Margaret's thumb."
"Well, by this time tomorrow I doubt if I will know the difference or care."
"Surely you can think of some way to talk her out of wiping your memory. It's important, Jarod. You could do it. You manipulate people all the time. Hell, you manipulated my daughter, didn't you?"
Jarod could not deny he had manipulated Parker. But that was before, and a part of their game. Somewhere along the line they had realized they were in love and it all changed. Now they knew it had changed long before two months past. They had been forced to relive their discovery over and over in hopes they would get it right according to some undefined Centre rules.
The elder Parker took Jarod's silence as admission. "You know you've hurt her a time or two? I didn't like it and I still remember it, even if you don't. But I, we, have bigger worries now."
"I'll work on it." Jarod felt as though he was being pulled into a game against his will. Then again, all this was against his will. At least now he might be a player, and he found he rather liked that idea. Maybe his mother was right about him.
Mr. Parker blessed Jarod with his biggest smile. "That's m' boy!" He clapped him jovially on the back. "Well, now that that's settled I must be going. We'll talk again after I see what Margaret's up too." He switched off the jamming device. "If you need anything there's an intercom by the door. No work till tomorrow at least. Relax."
Jarod almost laughed at that possibility. "Does this mean I'm not being given back to Lyle?" He felt a chill run up his spine at the thought.
"I'll see to it that we don't repeat the... mistakes of the past. Lyle and Mr. Raines are away on business for the present. If it seems... advantageous Lyle can be kept busy at the Tokyo Office for the time being. I'll deal with Raines when he gets back." The elder man lifted an eyebrow, so that Jarod knew it was a done deal. And then he left.
Margaret decided it was good to be back in the States, but she was tired and jetlagged. She spent the majority of her first day back in her room with a blinding headache.
Miss Parker returned to the compound with the sunset. Margaret still felt ill but she dressed and joined her new protégé for supper. Actually, she found the meal productive. Miss Parker was polite but aloof, and focused her attention on her food. Margaret was not in the mood for banter anyway. She posed a few general questions but she did not need the short replies she got. Both knew that she would get a play-by-play of everything that had happened at The Centre. She just wanted to remind Parker of her interest.
It was good policy to remind Parker that her actions were monitored. After supper, Margaret made a point of going to her study and watching the video of Parker's meeting with her father. She also watched Jarod's homecoming. She was displeased to learn that Mr. Parker's visit to Jarod's new rooms went unrecorded. She wondered what the old fool had up his sleeve.
Margaret went to bed content with her progress over the last few days. It would be good to groom Parker's daughter for her rightful place as his successor, even though it should not be his. The next step was eliminating their competition, one way or another, and then there was the small problem of Jarod.
The first thing Margaret did when she woke was call The Centre. It was seven o'clock and she felt her team of doctors had been given ample time to formulate a complete care plan for Jarod. The doctors said that arrangements, meaning the medications, would not be complete until late afternoon. Further questioning revealed that the first batch of a very important constituent had been improperly formulated; it might have destroyed Jarod's short-term memory. Still, Margaret was dissatisfied with the delay. She knew that if she had not succumbed to the headache yesterday, and gone to The Centre herself, things would have moved smoother and faster. She disliked weakness, even in herself. It wasted time.
Margaret saw Parker in passing as the younger woman hurried out the door. It made little difference to her whether Parker was anxious to be at work or gone from the house as long as she complied with their agreement. On the DSAs from the previous day Parker appeared compliant but troubled. She might need tweaking. Not her work; she was a fine administrator; had always done excellent work when she was at Corporate. But Parker needed to harden her resolve, come to terms with their deal and her new life. Margaret was expert at separating herself from emotions; she intended to teach her apprentice everything she knew.
Jarod had spent the previous day seething because he was back where he belonged. Today was a new day, and hopefully he finally understood who she was, what he was, and what was expected of him. He was waiting for her to clean up his memories, and she would have preferred to do it today. Now the wipe would have to wait until tomorrow morning.
Margaret adjusted her schedule. She had plenty of other business that would benefit from her attention. She could use Jarod to test another variable; it was time to see if Sydney had to be replaced. Besides which she wanted to call upon Mr. Parker today to say hello, update him on his daughter, and keep him under her thumb.
Raines might be more difficult. Thoughts of him soured Margaret's mood as she left the compound. She placed a few phone calls to check on his whereabouts, and Lyle's.
The Swiss financial puzzle was not complicated, purposely so. Margaret only wanted Raines out of the way until Jarod and Parker made their homecoming. She wanted him back before Lyle. The ghoul had no friends - and did not need any - he knew how to maneuver. But once the Triumvirate reviewed his uses of Centre funds he would be off to Africa for a while. No one but Lyle would rally to his defense if he was attacked, and Lyle could be kept busy.
Lyle was still occupied in Hong Kong. The bankers Margaret bought had done an especially good job of fouling up Centre accounts there. Margaret told them they could "lose" a few hundred thousand if necessary, and they did. Sadly for the bankers' families, she was certain some of it went into their pockets. Lyle would take care of it; her losses would be minimal. He had a flight booked for Seoul in four days, which meant he felt confident he would have the problems solved.
The Korean office had a few financial irregularities, which Margaret did not instigate, but they were not serious. The Seoul business might delay him two days. Margaret knew what Lyle's father knew about his predilection for Asian women, partying, and the occasional lost weekend. Korea had a few enticements she thought Lyle might like, and she had ensured that Lyle would find them all.When he got enough of that and came home she would have to deal with him. Hopefully his father would be out of the picture by then.
Margaret's arrived at The Centre with no fanfare. Some might say she snuck in the back door. She preferred to think of driving into a lower parking level and taking the private elevator to her office level as being discreet.
She had an odd anonymity at The Centre. Here she was Miss Abbott, seldom seen, former staff psychologist, and former head of Centre European Corporate. She was one of the few who came and went as she pleased. Her office suite was used little more than once a year but it was a monument to her ability. No one asked bout the empty offices on that floor, not did they seek information of any of the absentee tenants. If any did they were soon gone.
Margaret was an intimidating figure, in a severely cut indigo suit, white silk shell and handmade snakeskin pumps, as she walked through her sparsely staffed office. She preferred it empty. She smiled benignly at the temporary receptionist. Her smile was one of her best tools. The young woman would forget the dragon lady and think of her as a kind boss who took the time to greet even the lowly.
Her office was exactly as Margaret left it. She took a moment to check messages and look out the window at the cove. It was a beautifully clear winter day; the large vase of roses on the window ledge was a striking contrast. A smaller, less obtrusive, arrangement on her desk was equally lovely. Margaret liked fresh flowers, so beautiful, so transient, and so disposable. Centre business could wait a moment; she had a personal matter to attend.
Margaret left her office and opened the door to Parker's office unannounced. She took a step into the room and waited for acknowledgement.
Parker looked up at the sound, surprised and displeased. She adjusted her expression when she saw recognized her intruder. "Margaret," in a barely impolite tone, "what can I do for you?"
Margaret walked the rest of the way into the room and sat down. "At The Centre I prefer to be called 'Miss Abbott,' if you don't mind."
"As you wish." Parker returned he eyes to her deskwork, her attention was riveted on the other woman.
"This is when you tell me how happy you are to be home, or at least welcome me back."
"Do I need to lie to you, too?" Parker asked. She paused and added, "welcome back," in her flattest voice.
Margaret raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Thank you, and no, lying to me is not generally required or tolerated." Such an easy point to win. "So, how is Jarod?"
"I wouldn't know, would I?"
"Just checking. I've decided to allow Sydney to see him today."
"You've wiped his memory already?" Parkers voice rose with the speed of her heartbeat.
"No, that is slightly postponed due to technical difficulties." She frowned. "So I've changed strategies. This way it won't matter what Sydney asks or says to Jarod. It will all disappear. And I will know if Sydney can fulfill his duties."
"If he can't?"
"He has other projects, and they can be continued at another Centre facility. I think Mr. Broots will join him wherever."
"Broots is my assistant."
"Broots is a field man. You don't need him up here. If his services are ever required you can call him back as a consultant. You should feel lucky that I've allowed you to keep your old personal sweeper. Three things influenced that decision. Your Sam is good at his job; he is personally loyal to you – a valuable thing when you may become a target - and he was not at all involved in your little escapade. Your role at The Centre has changed Miss Parker, let go of your past."
Parker had little choice. "I am."
Margaret smiled "Then I'm pleased. Call Sydney and tell him to visit his favorite. I'm sure he's been concerned...and curious." Margaret's smile faded. "Tell him to try a simulation." She rose and walked out the door.
Parker phoned Sydney and relayed the message. She also told him to call her immediately when he returned to his office. She doubted that Margaret would approve of the second order.
Sydney was pleased with the opportunity to see Jarod. Parker's curt phone call left him guessing about her motives, but for the moment he did not care. He gathered files for a relatively innocuous sim as ordered. He doubted Jarod would be willing, and assumed that was the point.
Jarod was sitting alone, beside a plain table in a minor workroom, when Sydney arrived. He gave the psychologist a half-smile by way of greeting.
Sydney returned the smile as he put a small pile of files on the worktable. He sat down in a straight chair directly across from Jarod. Sydney started to reach out but drew back his hand when Jarod crossed his arms. He lowered his eyes briefly to the files and raised them again. "It's good to see you."
"I didn't expect to see you until after."
"After?"
"After my memory was expunged and I was back in tool mode. You know, plain white cotton prison clothes, the whole deal."
There was little Sydney could say. He tried to understand what Jarod was feeling; he was not sure he should ask.
"You did know they've been wiping my memory over the years, didn't you?" Jarod leaned forward in challenge.
"No, Jarod, I did not."
"Come now, Sydney, are you that stupid? Or that blind?"
"I suspected that they had done something at the time Miss Parker was sent away to school. I could not be sure. But, considering your... reaction at the time..."
"I tried to kill myself, didn't I?"
"Yes, and you were almost successful." Sydney relived the guilt of not anticipating the attempt. There was a short silence before Sydney continued. "You were young, Jarod, barely a man. Miss Parker was precocious. Neither of you had an outlet for your curiosity. It should not have been a surprise when you started to explore with one another."
"You thought it was just two randy teenagers?" Jarod sat back.
"So to speak; I thought it was infatuation. I actually approved of Mr. Parker's decision to separate you."
"Because she was too good for a lab rat."
"Because you were both too young to know what you were doing. And The Centre is a very unforgiving environment. I assumed that you would get over it quickly; you had plenty of assignments to occupy your mind. When you became morose I took it for a normal level of adolescent dramatics." He stopped again and looked Jarod in the eye. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
"About the wipe?"
"I prescribed a strong antidepressant. When you ceased speaking about Miss Parker I was relieved. You went on with your work. When she came to visit months later and you greeted her formally I thought you were deliberately distancing yourself. I saw what I wanted to see and ignored the possibility that someone had manipulated your thoughts."
"Someone other than you, you mean." Jarod was grim. "Not to worry, Syd, my mother did it, and she plans to do it again."
"Surely not!" Sydney stopped mid-refutation. This was The Centre; there was nothing beyond belief. Suddenly, Miss Parker's demand that he confine conversations with Jarod to business made perfect sense. She knew his memory was going to be wiped and wanted it to stay that way. Sydney frowned. He asked the forbidden question. "What happened?"
"I've been told I broke Parker's heart a few times over the years. Apparently, she decided to return the favor."
"I don't believe it's as simple as a moment of pique, Jarod. There is far more behind this than a change of heart."
"You assume Centre women have hearts. I think there's plenty of evidence to the contrary."
"Catherine was..."
"Parker's mother and one of the founders of this hell." Jarod said abruptly; he brought clenched fists down on the table. "You know what, Sydney? I don't want to talk about this any more." He pushed himself back from the table and crossed his arms. "My guess is that you're here for more than old times. So let's skip the social visit and show me what you've got for me to do."
Sydney did not argue; he opened a file. "I brought a simple sim, if you are willing." He watched for Jarod's reaction; there was none. "Three Hong Kong investment houses had massive amounts of money disappear a few days ago. Previous to this, several brokers were accused of skimming funds. One was cleared and the others are reimbursing their firms."
"No arrests?"
"These are international houses with multinational clients. They want things handled internally, and quietly. They think the latest event was long planned, the 'one big job' and then they were going to disappear."
"They were working together?" Jarod was skeptical.
"There is evidence to that effect. Two men from one house were definitely in collaboration; the other two were not, previous to this. All deny any involvement in this incident." Sydney pushed several files with financial information across the table.
Jarod moved back to the table. "Why would The Centre be concerned with simple embezzlement?" Jarod scanned a file of figures. He laughed aloud. "Never mind, I see. It's Centre money. Big bucks. They thought they could get away with Centre money?" He laughed again.
"You did."
"I kept moving." Jarod continued to read. "This trail leads to Swiss banks. This is why Lyle and Raines were both absent at my arrival?" He glanced at Sydney for confirmation.
Sydney nodded.
"Nice, nicely arranged." He nodded to himself and opened another file, and a third. He pointed to the first. "This trail is way too obvious. The two-man team was good; they were caught strictly by accident. The others got too greedy, but not to this level. The Centre fiasco, ten million suddenly missing," Jarod chuckled, "was just too heavy handed. Tell Lyle he can pull the toothpicks out from under their fingernails. It wasn't them." Jarod looked at Sydney from under his eyebrows; he pushed the files back across the table.
"If not them, then who did it?"
"Unless it's The Centre Widows and Orphans Fund, I could care less." Jarod leaned back and smiled. "As far as I can tell this just keeps Lyle off me. The longer he's gone, the better."
"You're sure it wasn't the men accused?"
"No, it was three other men, a triumvirate of sorts," Jarod found himself amusing. "They're not as good as they think. Even Lyle can find them if he opens his eyes."
Sydney sensed desperation in Jarod's amusement; he felt powerless to help and it showed in his face.
The sympathy angered Jarod. He stood abruptly, knocking his chair back as he did. "Sorry to see me back here, Sydney? You shouldn't be. According to the women in my life," he gestured wildly, "this is where I belong." He started pacing. "And after today I won't remember. They can tell me I've been blissfully happy and I'll believe them."
"You were unhappy for a long while, Jarod; I had to ignore it."
"Turning a blind eye is a Centre job requirement."
"There are times I find it difficult to live with the guilt."
"There's plenty to go around. You should all be drowning in it."
"Perhaps there's something I can do..."
"Empty offer. The big boys are tossing me around now. If I'm ever going to have any control of my life at all, I have to court favor with one of them."
"Miss Parker?" The near-rage on Jarod's face answered Sydney. "Mr. Parker?"
"I suspect he's being replaced."
"Your mother?" Sydney was incredulous.
"She seems to be the current top dog. I guess I better cozy up to her while I still can. Maybe I can be the next Lyle."
"Is that what you want, Jarod?" Had he changed that much?
"It's too fucking late to worry about me now." Jarod went to the door and pounded it with his fist. A sweeper opened the door and looked questioningly at both men. Jarod said, "Get me out of here."
Sydney nodded. Jarod was escorted from the room without a backward glance. Sydney dropped his head to his hand in frustration and sorrow.
Miss Parker desperately needed to get out of her bright sunny office. She knew a dungeon when she was in one; fresh flowers only dressed it up a little. Sydney's call came when she was hanging on by a thread; she jumped at the chance for motion.
Sam was sitting in the hall, reading the newspaper for the third time when she streaked past. He rose and followed her to the elevator. Parker started to dismiss him, but recognized her feelings mirrored in his face. She nodded permission.
Parker sent Sam for coffee while she went in to Sydney's office. "Well?" in a tone of voice from another life.
Sydney felt a wave of nostalgia for that life, bad as it was, it seemed idyllic next to the present. "Please have a seat, Miss Parker." He indicated a comfortable chair.
"I don't have time to hang out with the 'gang,' Syd. I've graduated from Scooby-Doo and moved up to the Tower."
"That is becoming obvious."
"Good, then just tell me how your visit with Jarod went. Was it like old times?"
"No. He cooperated only as long as it suited him. Jarod is not the man who left here. He is very angry; he will not be satisfied with 'old times' and he wants a say in his future."
Parker swallowed; she carefully controlled her voice. "Did he say anything about his future?"
"Nothing you don't know," he suggested. "He did say something about your past. Your memories were altered?" he asked.
"Why yes, Syd, courtesy of Jarod's mother and with the permission of my father," she answered bitterly.
"And they are going to do so again?"
"Not to me."
"I see. And that explains why Jarod is so resentful. He does not want things to go back to the way they were."
"There's no going back for me. I just have to keep pushing forward."
"And trample anyone you knock down on the way?"
"If that's what it takes." She stood. "And the real question is do you have what it takes, Sydney? Can you go back to working with Jarod?"
"I don't think he wants me to. The dynamics have changed. In the past, Jarod saw me as a father figure, whether I encouraged it or not. Now he's found his father and, unfortunately, his mother. I was his 'Refuge;' now he knows I cannot protect him. He's decided he can only depend upon himself."
"One too many disappointments can do that to you."
"He intends to pursue a more powerful patron, his mother."
"Really?" Parker was surprised. "That's quite a change of heart."
"The heart is a very changeable thing," he said in a knowing tone.
"Jesus. Spare me the sap. Okay, Syd? Send me a report." Parker got up and left the office. Sam handed her a large decaf as she passed. She concentrated on drinking the coffee without spilling it or burning her mouth, while she and Sam caught the Tower elevator. She did not want to think about what Jarod was going through or what he might do.
Parker walked straight into Margaret's office, unannounced, just to see her reaction.
Margaret seemed amused. "I've always admired your chutzpah, Miss Parker," her smile remained but her tone changed, "but don't ever do that again."
Parker refused to react.
"I intend to be available to you at any time; absolutely no one else can make that claim. But I demand that you give me notice before making an appearance, understood?"
"Yes. Might I expect the same respect from you?" Parker kept her voice formally friendly.
Margaret considered for a beat. "Point made. I will return the courtesy."
Parker nodded. "I just came from speaking with Sydney; he met with Jarod. May I sit?"
Margaret pointed toward a chair. "And?"
"We'll get his formal report." She sat. "First, I need to ask you a question, and I want a blunt answer. Did you mean it when you said Sydney won't be punished if he doesn't work with Jarod?"
"He's decided he doesn't want to?"
"It may not be up to him. He told me Jarod wanted to work for you. Have you two come to an agreement?"
"Don't get your hopes up."
"I'm not; I know the deal. I was just surprised."
"No, no agreement." Margaret put her hand to her chin, "But his saying that is interesting. Last I spoke to him he was openly furious."
"I think he still is. He vented at Sydney."
"That will change when the past few years are gone from his memory. I'll read the doctor's report and perhaps offer him another opportunity after tomorrow."
"You still intend to do it? Wipe his memory tomorrow?"
"Yes, Parker, I intend to follow the plan, and hold you to our deal."
"You are so cold," Parker said with long-standing disgust.
"I am, and when you reach the point where you can sacrifice anything, yourself, all the relationships you've built, even your child, then you will be ready to run The Centre. It's bigger than human emotion, and more important than any one person, even flesh and blood. Once you understand and believe that, you will be ready for the power that The Centre can give you."
"You make it sound like we'll control the world."
"Something like that." Margaret smiled and rose from her chair. "I have an appointment downstairs. I want a copy of Sydney's report as soon as you get it." Margaret did not wait for a reply.
Parker walked out of Margaret's office behind her.
Margaret took the private elevator down. She would save the grand entrance till the time was right...soon. She walked confidently toward the Chairman's office, gathering clandestine stares as she went. Let them wonder for now. Margaret was on her way to make her presence known to Mr. Parker. En route she decided to offer him a graceful exit. Eventually some accident might befall him but that could wait.
The olive branch was not meant for him but for Miss Parker, as a reward for early good behavior, and an incentive to move smoothly into her father's position.
Mr. Parker was working at his desk when his secretary announced Miss Abbott. He knew she was coming to glory in his Angel's return. He already knew she was in the building; had known the second she arrived. He wondered if she had expected him to request a meeting. He would not give her the satisfaction of calling, let alone run up there.
Margaret walked into the office with a smile on her face.
Mr. Parker rose and returned the false affability. "Margaret, it's been a while." He extended a hand to her.
Margaret took it in hers. "Yes, far too long." They shook hands and held on a beat longer than necessary. Both continued standing.
"My daughter tells me she's ready to take her place here."
"Yes, are you ready to step out of her way?"
"She's not at the point where she can take over as Chairperson."
"She never will be, according to you."
His expression darkened. "This is what I've wanted, planned for, all her life."
"Planning and action aren't the same thing. It's time to get on with it."
"You won't just push me out of your way." He said stridently.
"I expect," she said with emphasis, "you to do what's necessary, or I may have
to."
"Are you threatening me?" he bellowed.
"No," she backed down strategically. She knew she had pushed too soon. "I didn't intend to put it quite that way. But once the Triumvirate knows about her...and the baby..." she trailed off when she saw surprise on the Chairman's face. So Parker hadn't told him.
"She's pregnant?"
"Yes, although apparently not ready to announce it. Now that there will be a child, the future is assured."
"Yes, this does change things." Mr. Parker was vaguely preoccupied.
"We need her to commit herself as soon as possible. You can facilitate that, and be around to enjoy your grandchild. Think about it." She lifted an eyebrow suggestively.
Mr. Parker caught her offer. He had no intention of taking it, but Margaret did not need to know that. He got over his surprise and went straight to his ineffectual shambling act. "Yes, yes, commitment to The Centre. And a child... this changes everything."
Margaret left him seemingly lost in thought. She did not expect him to go this easily. But she had other options, and more dangerous fish to fry. She returned to her office.
The remainder of Margaret's day was spent on European affairs, mostly financial. She checked on the Swiss accounts; all was progressing nicely. It was time to let Raines know about the homecoming. She had Buchan "leak" the information to the right people. Soon Mr. Raines would be in a hurry to get back to the States.
All in all, Margaret felt it had been another successful day. After leaving The Centre she put aside business, including Sydney's report on Jarod, and spent the night reading. At midnight she called Buchan, for a massage.
First thing the next morning Margaret watched the DSA of Jarod's meeting with
Sydney. She definitely wanted to see him before his memory adjustment. It might be interesting to see what he thought now. She decided to soften her look for the meeting, and chose a camel wool suit with a brown satin blouse. She considered wearing her hair down but that might be too much. Jarod knew he had been played; he might consider the hair a reminder and an insult.
Miss Parker was gone before Margaret left her own rooms. She did not rush to follow her but went directly to Parker's office when she reached The Centre. This time she had herself announced just before she walked in the door.
Parker was no more pleased with this visit than yesterday's. "Do you ever give forewarning of an appearance?" a pause, "Oh, and of course, good morning."
"No. And to cut to the chase, I'm going down to see Jarod now. After that he won't remember escaping The Centre, your affair or your child."
"I see." Parker wanted desperately to plead with her but did not.
"It's our deal, Parker, and you may find it's for the best in the long run."
Parker did not reply as she fought against opposing impulses to burst into tears or jump across the desk to throttle Margaret. Her fists clenched.
Margaret noticed. "Overall, you're doing well; I'm inclined to overlook the little things, like your current anger with me."
Parker flattened her hands on the desk and adjusted her expression.
Margaret nodded. "Time will show I'm correct. Passion dims; The Centre remains." She stood. "Oh, there's one thing you need to do soon. Announce or leak the news of your pregnancy. I don't care how you do it. Some secrets still cannot be kept forever." She left Parker staring at the closing door.
Margaret took the rear elevator to the garage again. She got out on the garage level and crossed to the Centre sublevel elevator. From there to Jarod's room took only moments.
Jarod knew his mother would be coming to see him before she had his memory wiped. She would want to gloat. He told himself he would greet her warmly, he would talk calmly, he would not beg her for his memory, he would convince her. But when he saw her, all the pain came flooding back and his voice came out as a growl. "What took you so long?"
"Are you in such a hurry to forget?"
Jarod's breath caught. "No." He wanted to remember everything, every discovery, every moment of passion, every second of joy, everything, even if it included the despair he felt now. He wanted to remember his son. He swallowed his pride and cleared his throat. "Would it make any difference... is there some way I can convince you not to do this?"
That peaked Margaret's interest. "Have you got a proposition for me, ...son?"
Jarod almost lost his temper. The bitch knew all the buttons; Buchan was right she was good at manipulation. "Yes, an honest one, ...Mother."
Margaret smiled. "Good. Let's hear it."
"I perform. I become the trained monkey I was before, and you let me keep my memory."
"Go on."
"I have changed; you said so. I think my experience could improve my 'value' to The Centre."
"That's it? That's hardly a proposal. I get that either way."
Jarod knew he was loosing the game. She saw right through him; he decided to try the actual truth. He took a deep breath and forced the air slowly out of his lungs. He took another breath and looked her in the eye. "I want my son."
"Ah, but there's the rub, Jarod, you can't have him. That's not part of any scenario."
"I want to see him grow up."
"Even if it means never acknowledging him or going near him?"
Jarod considered for an anguished instant. "Yes."
Margaret studied him. She smiled sympathetically. "I don't believe you." She put her hand on his arm. "Let's go."
Jarod pulled away. "No."
"I can call six sweepers in here."
"I could kill you before they got here." He meant it.
Margaret knew he did. He had changed. It startled and exhilarated her. "Don't be infantile. If I die, you die and your son will disappear."
Jarod knew that was true. He walked out of the room ahead of her.
Margaret directed him to another room a short way down the hall. There were two men in lab coats, a treatment table and a few pieces of equipment.
Jarod balked. "There are things you'll erase that you may want to know."
Margaret put a hand to Jarod's back and he moved to the center of the room. She beckoned the men; Jarod went with them to the table. They strapped him down. Margaret followed and stood over him.
Jarod involuntarily fought the restraints; he was near panic. "I know things."
Margaret ignored him. She turned to the technicians. "Give me the first syringe and then leave us alone. Go tell the doctors we're ready." The men complied. She returned her attention to Jarod. "What things?"
Jarod eyed the syringe as Margaret flicked a bubble free of the glass. "I know about some financial misconduct, information you could twist to make any of them look like they stole Centre funds, like you did in Hong Kong."
"Why, Jarod, that's so dishonest of you. How many people have you told, including Sydney?"
"No one. I wanted to prove you could trust me." His voice was close to a growl.
She lifted and eyebrow and smiled. "You should have cooperated sooner." She forced liquid out of the needle. "Not telling Sydney probably saved his life."
"I know things about Lyle," he said through gritted teeth.
"Things I don't know?" she asked, interested again.
"You know he's a serial killer?"
"I have suspicions. You have proof?"
"If you let me I can send the FBI and authorities in three Asian countries information. If they coordinate efforts they could convict him without Centre involvement." Jarod was breathing hard. That was his trump card, if she wanted an excuse to help him.
"Now that is interesting," she paused, "but I just don't think it's enough." She pulled his arm around slightly and inserted the needle into a vein.
Jarod grimaced. "Mother, please!" He had promised himself he would not beg, but he couldn't help it. "Don't do this again." He felt the fluid surging into his vein. "I will help you, do what you want, pretend to be what you want." He felt Margaret remove the needle and consciousness fade. "Please...don't let Lyle near my son...or Parker... please... pl..." He lost the ability to speak. He looked up at his mother, knowing she had won and knew he would loose all memory of his son.
Margaret watched Jarod struggle against his restraints and the drug's inescapable effects. He had done a nice job of presenting his case. She would have preferred that he had not begged, but his reasonableness was an improvement to past behavior.
Jarod stared at her until his eyes closed and his breathing relaxed. His forehead was covered with sweat and his too-long hair had fallen across one eye. She reached down to push it away as she had done when she played her mommy part. She caught herself in the tender action. Perhaps she had learned that role too well; she was irritated with herself for it.
The doctors were coming into the room and Margaret turned to leave. With one last analytical look at her son, she wondered just how damning that Lyle information really was.
