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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
The Gift
part XI
by N.R. Levy & Trisha
Broots paced nervously around the hotel room where he and Debbie had stayed since their flight from Blue Cove. Again he silently thanked Miss Parker for all that he had learned from her in the past seven years. How to be invisible, to stay alive no matter what it took – she was a good example and he was glad he had paid attention. He’d even managed to sneak Bunny into the room without any raised eyebrows.
Glancing at his daughter, who lay sleeping comfortably for the first time since they’d arrived under the warmth of Miss Parker’s quilt, and he marveled at how much things had changed in such a short period of time. Why had Mutumbo brought Ryan so close to Miss Parker? Did he think she would never figure it out? The arrogance of it was almost too much for the techie to comprehend, and he knew he couldn’t spend too much time thinking about it now.
As soon as Debbie woke they had to leave. His conversation with Sydney made that clear. The Centre believed that Miss Parker was dead, which meant that the sooner he got to her, the sooner the two of them and Jarod’s family could find some way to get the Pretender out of the mess he had created for himself.
Looking again at Debbie, Broots felt a tightening in his heart as he thought of Jarod. True, he had stepped into it all on his own, but the thought of him lying there in his cell, believing that the woman he loved and his child were dead...Broots knew they had to get to him as soon as they could. The mental anguish he must be going through was a greater threat to him than anything the Centre could manufacture.
Now he had to decide what he would tell her about Ryan. Yes, she was no longer a child, she’d be 15 on her next birthday, but she was still his child, and he wanted to protect her from as much of the ugly realities of the Centre as possible. Mulling the question in his mind, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes for a few precious minutes of rest.
*****
Jarod lay on his cot, an arm cast over his eyes to block out the lights they still refused to extinguish. He wanted them gone. All he wanted now was to lie here in the dark and think about the hell his life had become. It was useless and self-centered, and he knew it, but he didn’t care. She was gone. Years of trying to save her proved useless against the ultimate evil that was the Centre. Worse yet, their son was gone, too.
Ryan – he had never even seen him, never held him, and though it was a small comfort indeed, it did help to know that for at least a few hours, Parker and Ryan had found each other, and his son had known the warmth of his mother’s love before...God, it couldn’t be. He knew it was true, he’d seen the evidence himself, but his heart wouldn’t accept what his mind knew...he would never see his son’s smile for himself, and he would never have the chance to tell Parker all the things he had meant to tell her along the way.
A slight humming alerted him to the fact that the elevator was rising through the Tower. He did not care now if they came for him. His only reason to live was to exact revenge against the man who had caused this, who had left his heart cold and dark. Part of his mind rebelled at the thoughts he was having. He still had a family that loved him. They would help him through this. Jarod fought the voice inside of him. He didn’t want to think of reasons to go on, not without them.
A female voice echoed outside of the room which held his cell, and Jarod recognized it immediately. There was a slight discussion between her and the sweeper assigned to his room – and then the exterior door slid open. He refused to look at her, but he knew when she stopped walking that she was in front of his cell.
"Poor baby. You look so sad." Brigitte stared hard at him, willing the prone form to look at her, but he would not move. With an exasperated sigh, she stepped closer to the cell, placing the small object she’d brought with her on the tray outside of the slot they used to push his food into the cell.
"Heard you were looking for this. Guess you dropped it when you went psycho in the hallway. You almost hurt my pet, Jarod. That wasn’t very nice of you."
‘This,’ Jarod thought, ‘what is this?’ He wanted to stay unaffected by her yet he was drawn to look at what "this" was. He turned his head and his eyes fell on the small black shoe that sat just outside of the Plexiglas cage that was his home. He was unable to control his body as he sprang from the cot, moving to the slot quickly as his eyes remained locked on the small memento of someone he had never known, but loved with all of his heart.
"She should have never tried to run. Always letting her emotions get in the way, that girl. I warned her, you know, after the carpenter bit it that she was getting soft, but I suppose she chose to ignore her dear mommy’s advice."
Now Jarod’s eyes lifted to meet Brigitte’s, and his cold glare caused her to take a step back from the glass.
"You are not her mother. You could never be her mother." Jarod’s words were filled with ice, and they strengthened Brigitte’s resolve. Finding her courage renewed, she stepped back toward the glass.
"Of course not, I’m still alive. Makes me a rarity among Parker women, doesn’t it?"
Jarod felt his hands clench into tight fists as he reminded himself to keep his rage down. Now was not the time. He would make them all pay for what they had done to her, but not yet. He had to get a grip on his mind first. He had to stay strong. This was the last thing he could do for her, and he would make certain he saw it through to the bitter end.
"Go away, Brigitte. Mutumbo and Raines won’t be happy to find out you were here."
"Mutumbo is gone, and Rainesey is busy planning all of the fun projects he’s going to give to you. I doubt they’ll be concerned with a brief visit from me. Anyway, I heard Raines started a Centre-wide search for this silly little shoe, and I was just bringing it back to you."
Jarod’s eyes returned to the small shoe that had just hours ago been worn by his son. Tears threatened at his eyes for the millionth time since he’d told Mutumbo that the accident had been real, but he would not cry in front of her. He moved his hand toward the slot and realized that he could not grasp the shoe from where it sat. The thought of asking Brigitte for help chilled his soul, but he felt a need he couldn’t begin to explain to hold that small piece of Ryan in his hands. He lifted his eyes and found hers.
"Would you move it closer?"
Brigitte licked her lips, a sly smile crossing her face. She took another step toward the cell and let one finger casually drop on to the shoe.
"Why should I?" Her words were somehow expected but the coldness of it still managed to shock Jarod. Parker was right, she was a total bitch.
"Please?"
Brigitte used her finger to move the shoe back from him, as her eyes laughed at him.
"Over attachment to children is such an old fashioned concept, Jarod. If you’d just seem him for what he was...look at my husband and I for example. Our little angel paved our way back to the Centre, to the seat of power. She’s marvelous...no pretender, but I’m told she may turn into the best assassin the Centre has ever raised."
Jarod closed his eyes against the emotion that welled up inside of him. Parker was gone, dead because she had tried to save their child and here this creature was flaunting the fact that she was letting them turn her baby into a killer? He felt himself silently curse God’s name for letting a world like this exist – one where people who deserved to have long, happy lives with their children bled to death in cars or drowned in rivers while they were running for their lives.
Brigitte read the hatred emanating from the Pretender in every feature of his face. She fought down the urge to laugh. He was so easy. A jibe about Parker, a careless remark about the little thing that had in actuality, guaranteed she and Mr. Parker’s return from exile, and he was ready to snap.
Brigitte pushed the shoe deeper into the slot and she saw Jarod’s eyes open as his hand reached out for it. He felt a slight scratching on his near one knuckle as he pulled the little black object away from her, but ignored it, his thoughts now only on what he held and who it belonged to.
"You’re such a sap, Jarod. Don’t you think it’s time for you to grow up?" He ignored her words, staring down at the shoe in his hands. "Oh, well, better get back to work. My little Lyle needs some more attention."
Brigitte walked out of the room, her triumphant smile going unnoticed by the sweeper outside. If Jarod thought he felt bad before, just wait until that little surprise she’d given him took effect. She’d teach him to mess with her possessions – and Lyle was just that – hers.
Back in the cell, Jarod sank down onto the cot, the tiny shoe clutched in his hands. He pulled out the photo again and stared at the smiling faces and hoped that wherever they were they were together and at peace. He did not notice the slight swelling on the area of his hand where Brigitte had scratched him, or feel the fever that was beginning to seep into his body. He felt nothing but pain and grief and he wondered how he was going to keep it from drowning him as they finally, mercifully extinguished the lights and left him in darkness.
He lay there in the darkness, and felt a coldness move into his soul. Gone. Dead. The words seem to amplify themselves with each passing thought. He screamed her name, waiting for a response. When he didn't hear anything, he'd scream it again and again. The words echoed off the Plexiglas and surrounded him. Soon he exhausted himself, waiting to hear her answer, then he yelled for Ryan, the shoe clutched tightly in his swollen hand. Thinking that he heard a small cry emanating some where in the dark room, he got off the cot and rushed to it only to crash resoundingly into the clear wall. After the third time, he slumped down, bringing his knees to his chest, hands over his ears, and screamed. The sweepers stationed out side his room, where terrified that they called for Raines.
******
A thin ray of light streaked across her eyes, causing her to awaken. She could sense something, someone calling to her, but she could not seem to make the answer of who it was come clear in her mind. Instead she focused on her present circumstances. Her side was sore, yet she had slept, soundly. Glancing around the room in the pre-dawn light, she realized that this was his room. She remembered asking. It was as her eyes focused on the desk that she inhaled sharply. Seated at the desk was, Ryan, his back to her.
"Ryan," she whispered in a hoarse croak," what are you doing?"
"Reading, Mommy." he climbed off the chair, a red notebook and photo album in his hands.
"What would you be reading?" she tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, yet she wanted to hear that word from him, she loved hearing that word.
He pushed the book and photo album onto the comforter, then scrambled up after them. Parker struggled to pull herself to a sitting position on the bed. Her body angry that she attempted to move, it was stiff and a wave of lightheadedness caused her to moan softly. She placed her head on the pillows, waiting for the moment to pass, before she placed a hand out for the notebook.
"This," he picked up the red notebook and placed it in Parker's outstretched hand," and pictures."
Startled at the revelation, that Ryan had found pictures. Pictures. What pictures, she asked, herself? Putting the notebook down, she patted the place beside her, Ryan scooted under the covers, dragging the big album with him. Just as she was about to open the cover, there was a knock at the door.
"What?" she called out, forgetting herself, momentarily," Come in."
The door opened and Jake popped his head in, taking in the sight of the boy and woman in the bed. A slow smile spread on his face when he caught sight of the album in her hands. Boy! did Jarod have some explaining to do when he got home.
"Mom wants to know if you're hungry?" Jake grinned, and Parker had to catch her breath.
"A little," she replied," Jake, any word on Jarod?"
"Hey, Ryan, how about some waffles and whipped crème. If you go down to the kitchen, I bet you could find a big plate loaded with. . ."
"Jake," Emily stood in the doorway," Hello, Miss Parker, Ryan."
"Emily, would you be so kind as to take Ryan to your parents, please," Parker asked, softly. She watched as the young woman came over to the bed, sitting next to the little boy.
"How about a piggy back ride?"
"What?" he asked, which drew a small smile from Parker.
"Climb on my back, and I'll carry you downstairs," Emily smiled at the small boy.
Parker watched as Emily and Ryan left the room amidst squeals of delight. Closing her eyes, briefly, she listened to the sound until she could no longer hear them.
"Jarod turned himself in shortly after you escaped," Jake said barely audible, yet loud enough that Parker's eyes flew open.
"He what?"
"Turned himself in, but that's not the half of it. We. . .drove your car of the Dolores Bridge by Angel Creek, the Centre sweepers found it shortly after. He probably believes that you and Ryan are. . . ."
"Dead?" she whispered, "Does anyone know that I'm alive?"
"Sydney and Broots. In fact, Broots and his daughter should be arriving shortly. He found Jarod's laptop and contacted Dad."
Parker again tried to up, but her body protested the attempted action by jolting her with a sharp and painful reminder that she was in no shape to go running to Jarod’s rescue.
"Jake, listen to me. You’ve got to find a way for someone to get word to Jarod that we’re okay."
"We will. It’s just going to take time."
"No!" Parker’s tone made the boy step back a bit, and had she not been so worried she would have felt sorry for startling him. "You’ve never seen Jarod grieve. I have. If he thinks he’s lost...his son, Jake, he’ll shut down. All he’ll care about is getting to my brother, and that’s it."
"Miss Parker –"
"Jake, you have to tell Sydney to get to him. He has to know the truth before it’s too late."
Jake was still a young man, but he could see the genuine fear that was in Miss Parker’s eyes. He was about to speak when a tiny voice boomed loudly from downstairs.
"Mommy, I’ll be up with your breakfast in a minute. Me and Emily are doing a surprise for you."
"Jake, please." He looked back at her, and though he couldn’t imagine his brother reacting the way she was describing, he had to admit that she had known Jarod longer, and seen him in far worse situations than he and the rest of the family had.
"Okay, I’ll go and get Dad."
Parker watched as he left, her heart pounding in her chest. She understood of course why they had done what they’d done. It was good strategy and it had probably saved them all – no doubt a scheme of Jake’s making. Still, it didn’t make it easier to know that Jarod thought that they were gone. The Centre would rub his face in it.
She could feel tears threatening at her eyes when she heard footsteps coming toward her room. Soon Emily and Ryan entered with a breakfast tray filled with waffles and whip crème and milk. The tray was adorned with tinsel – a reminder that Christmas was coming soon.
"Look Mommy, it’s all dec’rated." Emily held the tray as her nephew climbed into bed next to his mother, then she sat it down over Parker’s legs. She watched as the woman she’d resented for so long struggled into a comfortable position her hand, rediscovering the red notebook and the photo album that Ryan had handed her earlier. Emily sat down on the edge of the bed, as she reached over to cut up the waffles into kid-size pieces.
"What have you got there?" Ryan managed to look up from the waffles, which had him most intrigued as Emily spoke, and he glanced over at the items in his mother’s hand.
"Oh, that’s stuff I was reading earlier. It’s all about Mommy."
Emily and Parker shared a surprised look, then Parker reached over and smoothed Ryan’s hair as he began munching on the delicious new breakfast food in front of him.
"What do you mean, Ryan? What’s all about me?"
"The book. It’s stories about you. Stuff you did when you were little, and stuff that made you sad when you grew’d up. And the other book has lots and lots of pictures of you in it."
Parker narrowed her eyes, her confusion mixing with her curiosity.
"Where did you find these, baby?"
"In that desk. Hey, I guess they must belong to your friend, right? You said this was his room."
Parker looked at Emily who could only shrug in response. She had seen Jarod with both of the books several times during their holidays together, but he had never allowed her to see what was inside.
"Mommy, who is he? Why did Margaret say he would be more than my friend?"
"Well, baby, he’s, um..."
"Is he my daddy?"
Parker again felt the urge to run and hide from the tiny genius who sat beside her. How did he keep figuring everything out before she was ready to talk about it? Her eyes fell on Emily who remained powerless to help her, and after taking a deep breath, Parker decided she had no choice but to try and answer his question.
"Yes, Ryan, Jarod is your daddy."
"Jarod – isn’t that Major Charles’ other son?"
"Mm-hmm, and he’s Emily’s big brother." That surprised Ryan, who still wasn’t sure how all of these people were connected. His eyes widened as his whip crème covered smile grew.
"So that means we’re related?"
Emily nodded and Ryan happily picked up another bite of waffle. He chewed carefully looking at both women before he finally uttered a response of his own.
"Cool. Mommy, you’re not eating."
Parker looked at the plate, and though what little hunger she’d felt had vanished with the news of the trouble that Jarod was in, she didn’t want Ryan worrying about her, so she reached out and grabbed her fork, taking a small bite of the food.
"That’s better. So, will you tell me about him?"
Emily sat in the silence that followed the little boy’s question, and she decided it was time for her to go. She began to stand up when she felt Parker’s hand reach out and touch her knee.
"Stay, please."
Emily nodded and sat back into the spot she had occupied. Ryan climbed closer to his mother, leaning against her uninjured side as he reached out and covered his little fingers with whip crème, quickly putting them into his mouth. Parker laughed out loud, thinking about how much this little miracle was like his father.
"Well, for starters, your daddy and you are going to get along really, really well."
*****
Sydney had carefully packed up the items from Miss Parker’s house which Broots and given to Bart. They were now safely in his car waiting for him to make some move toward his daughter. God, it felt so good to think it, to stop censoring his love for her after so long. He knew that she would probably never forgive him for keeping the truth from her, and he couldn’t really blame her. How do you forgive someone for abandoning you to the darkness? Yet when she’d had to, she had saved herself from it, hadn’t she? Something he wanted to feel pride in, but he felt he did not deserve to. Besides, there was no time to feel sorry for himself right now. There was something he could do for his child, and he intended to do it.
The web site had come to life an hour ago and the message from Jake not only made perfect sense, it alerted him to Parker’s improving condition. She had guessed that the Centre would use her "death" against Jarod and wanted him to know the truth.
He had been trying to get to Jarod since the debacle of a T-board had ended, but Raines had left orders that he was not to be allowed access to Jarod, and no one seemed willing to disobey those orders. He was even barred from using the Tower elevator for the moment. Which meant he needed help.
It had taken some time to find Sam without drawing attention to the fact that he was searching for the man. Finally, he came upon the sweeper in of all places, the hallway outside of Mr. Parker’s office.
"Sam, what are you doing here?"
"I asked to be assigned to Mr. Parker. I thought it was what Miss Parker would want." Sam winked slyly at Sydney to let him know that he was in on the game and would not let the truth get away from him. Good. There was one problem solved.
"Has there been any word on Jarod?" Sydney tried to sound as neutral as he could, though he figured anyone who was listening would know he was anything but where the Pretender was concerned.
"I hear he’s not doing well, sir." A tightening in his chest kept Sydney from responding right away, and before he could get any more words out, the door of the office swung open and Mr. Parker was beside him.
"Oh, Sydney. I’m glad to see you. I was wondering if you would mind pulling together a small service for Angel. You know, something she would have liked. I’d do it but..."
‘But you have no idea who she loves or what she’d want.’ The thought went unspoken, but only because Sydney was no longer interested in himself. He was going to do what Catherine had died trying to do. Somehow, Jarod was going to be free again.
"Of course, I’ll get right to it."
Having received the answer he wanted, Mr. Parker moved back into his office and shut the door again, leaving Sam and Sydney alone.
"Well, Sam, I’ll be in my office. Please let me know if there’s any other news."
Sam nodded and Sydney moved away. He had a lot to think about, starting with how on earth they were going to get into that room with Jarod.
*******
The sweepers watched as the man they had all chased for years began to throw his body against the Plexiglas. He was going to hurt himself for certain, and they knew that would mean their heads. Thankfully Bart arrived and made the only clear headed decision that could be made. He would try and reach Mr. Raines.
Of course, he didn’t tell them that before he did so, he would be stopping by Sam’s new post to tell him of the goings on in the Tower. They had to be able to use this somehow. He and Sam had decided the night of Miss Parker’s disappearance that every action they took from now on would be to protect those she cared for.
He knew people would wonder why, but he didn’t care. For years now they had managed to survive in a place where watching your back wasn’t just a saying, it was a mantra, but you had to watch it a little less when Miss Parker was around. She never let anyone on her team go down without fighting for them, and Bart had long ago decided she was the most amazing person he had ever known. Now he and Sam had a chance to pay her back for the loyalty she had bestowed on them.
Sam was in the hallway just where Bart knew he would be, and he approached acting like any mid-level sweeper would when consulting with a supervisor. He informed Sam of the situation with the Pretender, and of his intention to contact Mr. Raines.
"That sounds like the best course of action, Bart. I’ll make sure the proper people know of the situation."
Bart nodded and headed off, and Sam knocked softly on Mr. Parker’s door. His fought to keep his eyes from rolling in disgust as he saw Brigitte sitting on the edge of his desk, fawning over the old man. It was she who turned and looked at him.
"What is it, Sam?"
"I need to go check on some new recruits. Will you be all right without me?"
"Don’t worry, Sammy. I’m here to look after my sweetie pie if anything happens."
A wave of nausea passed through the sweeper’s stomach as he turned and left the office. That those two were here safe and sound when...no, he wouldn’t think about it. They had a chance now, and he was going to see to it that they used it.
It took him but a few minutes to reach Sydney’s office, and he saw the older man look at him with expectant eyes as he stepped into the room.
"Sydney, can you get a message to Broots?"
"Yes. Why?"
"We need to make sure Mr. Raines is unreachable by pager or cell phone."
Sydney reached for the computer and began typing on the secure line Broots had set up before leaving, but his attention remained on Sam.
"What’s going on, Sam?"
"Jarod’s having a crisis." He saw Sydney tense immediately, but knew now was not the time for keeping secrets. "If we can’t reach Raines, maybe we can get them to let you inside, and then..."
‘And then,’ Sydney thought, ‘we’ll find a way to get Jarod the hell out of here.’
*****
The incessant beeping from the laptop jolted Broots awake. Heading to the table, he answered his email. Waiting for the letter to open, he glanced over at his daughter, who was now awake.
"Daddy?"
"Get ready to leave, pumpkin. As soon as I'm finished here, we have someplace wonderful to go."
"Will I see Miss Parker?"
"Yes," Broots replied, busy at the keyboard.
*****
The dreams came again.
Lyle sat on his cot in the dark cell. He was distracted, his mind was wandering. It was the dreams he feared. The images. A sense of helplessness seemed to fill him. There was something nibbling away at him. He brushed the thought away. It was nothing. He was allowing the dreams to push his imagination to the limits. The dreams filtered around his consciousness. He needed answers. Who did the many pairs of luminous eyes belong too?
Black as night. . . .there were voices whispering to him, and crying to him, and shapeless forms moving about gracefully; at first they didn't seem to notice him, but then they did, and they walked toward him, and surrounded him, and they began to scream, louder and louder and yet the louder they screamed, the quieter they were. How he thought? How could they make no sound?
He threw his arms up defensively, trying to ward them off, and then they were upon him and through him, insinuating themselves into him and he tried to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. He cried out, shouting for help, and they were everywhere . . .
They called to him, Lyle! Lyle! You loved us, hurt us, tortured us, why, why, why? He had no idea what to do or where to go, and there was no escape, and they were calling to him again. . .
And there was a woman, a blue-eyed woman, and she was walking toward him with a grim and frightening look on her face, and he heard a name-Murderer and it frightened him and she was reaching for him. . . He opened his eyes and screamed, his body drenched in a cold sweat.
Brigitte watched the scene from the office she shared with her husband, sucking eagerly on her lollipop. Good. He was suffering just as he deserved to suffer. Despite all that had transpired between them, despite their past as allies, he had left her out in the cold for nearly four years – four years of battling along side her husband to reclaim their power.
To her surprise, Mr. Parker had turned out to be a far better ally than she had ever imagined. Though he had random bouts of what she could only describe as insanity thanks to the "re-education" he had endured after the disaster in North Carolina, when he turned it on, he was as formidable as any man she had ever known.
Lyle curled up into a ball, trying to fight back whatever demon was chasing him now, and Brigitte smiled, wondering how the other man she hated was doing right about now. Oh, how she loved having the Centre drug cabinet at her disposal once again.
*****
Bart had entered the room, ordering the other sweepers to remain outside. He knew that he could not enter the Plexiglas cage to help Jarod, but he would not leave him alone. He had tried to talk to him, to find a way to let him know that Miss Parker and the boy were not dead, but there was no reaching him.
For hours now the Pretender had done nothing but alternately scream their names and cry. He was exhausted. His body was bruised from repeated rammings against the glass, and he was covered with sweat, but still he would not stop. It was as if his grief had become completely irrational, and Bart had no idea how much more the man could take.
Thankfully, there was hope that it might end soon. Sam was on his way to see Mr. Parker to tell him that despite repeated attempts, Mr. Raines was unreachable and the Pretender needed help now. Hopefully, the plan would work. If not, they might all be facing the grim task of finding Miss Parker only to tell her that Jarod had not survived his incarceration.
******
Sydney sat at his desk waiting. The phone needed to ring. It had to ring. From what Sam had told him, Jarod was in very bad shape and he had to get to him to make him understand the truth.
As he sat there waiting, Sydney fingered the medical file that Broots had given him...God, had it only been two days ago that their whole world had turned upside down?
He did not open the file. He knew all to well what was inside of it. Another misdeed done against his daughter. Not only had they stolen her child from her, but they had been careless in doing so. The chances of Parker being able to carry a child herself were now less than 40%. Sydney had no idea how he would tell her this. He knew that she had stopped wanting children after Thomas, feeling that it was something she was not meant to have. Yet now there was Ryan, and soon, hopefully, there would be Jarod for her, too. He suspected that motherhood would stoke in her a desire to have another child – one she carried herself. How could he tell her that she would be risking her life if she did so?
Damn them, he thought. Damn them all. And damn myself for not getting her out of here sooner.
The phone rang and Sydney reached for it, trying to keep his voice even and free of expectation. He was not surprised to hear Mr. Parker’s voice on the other end.
"Sydney, we have a situation here."
"Sir?"
"Jarod is...having some difficulties. We’ve been unable to reach Mr. Raines. I was wondering..."
"There are orders that I’m not to be allowed in the Tower or near Jarod."
"I’ll take you there myself. I’ll meet you at the Tower elevator in three minutes."
Sydney hung up the phone and turned and stared once more at the file on his desk. He could not undo the damage they had done to Parker’s body, but he could find a way to heal her soul...and Jarod’s. That begun by doing what seemed impossible.
Setting Jarod free.
part XI
by N.R. Levy & Trisha
Broots paced nervously around the hotel room where he and Debbie had stayed since their flight from Blue Cove. Again he silently thanked Miss Parker for all that he had learned from her in the past seven years. How to be invisible, to stay alive no matter what it took – she was a good example and he was glad he had paid attention. He’d even managed to sneak Bunny into the room without any raised eyebrows.
Glancing at his daughter, who lay sleeping comfortably for the first time since they’d arrived under the warmth of Miss Parker’s quilt, and he marveled at how much things had changed in such a short period of time. Why had Mutumbo brought Ryan so close to Miss Parker? Did he think she would never figure it out? The arrogance of it was almost too much for the techie to comprehend, and he knew he couldn’t spend too much time thinking about it now.
As soon as Debbie woke they had to leave. His conversation with Sydney made that clear. The Centre believed that Miss Parker was dead, which meant that the sooner he got to her, the sooner the two of them and Jarod’s family could find some way to get the Pretender out of the mess he had created for himself.
Looking again at Debbie, Broots felt a tightening in his heart as he thought of Jarod. True, he had stepped into it all on his own, but the thought of him lying there in his cell, believing that the woman he loved and his child were dead...Broots knew they had to get to him as soon as they could. The mental anguish he must be going through was a greater threat to him than anything the Centre could manufacture.
Now he had to decide what he would tell her about Ryan. Yes, she was no longer a child, she’d be 15 on her next birthday, but she was still his child, and he wanted to protect her from as much of the ugly realities of the Centre as possible. Mulling the question in his mind, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes for a few precious minutes of rest.
*****
Jarod lay on his cot, an arm cast over his eyes to block out the lights they still refused to extinguish. He wanted them gone. All he wanted now was to lie here in the dark and think about the hell his life had become. It was useless and self-centered, and he knew it, but he didn’t care. She was gone. Years of trying to save her proved useless against the ultimate evil that was the Centre. Worse yet, their son was gone, too.
Ryan – he had never even seen him, never held him, and though it was a small comfort indeed, it did help to know that for at least a few hours, Parker and Ryan had found each other, and his son had known the warmth of his mother’s love before...God, it couldn’t be. He knew it was true, he’d seen the evidence himself, but his heart wouldn’t accept what his mind knew...he would never see his son’s smile for himself, and he would never have the chance to tell Parker all the things he had meant to tell her along the way.
A slight humming alerted him to the fact that the elevator was rising through the Tower. He did not care now if they came for him. His only reason to live was to exact revenge against the man who had caused this, who had left his heart cold and dark. Part of his mind rebelled at the thoughts he was having. He still had a family that loved him. They would help him through this. Jarod fought the voice inside of him. He didn’t want to think of reasons to go on, not without them.
A female voice echoed outside of the room which held his cell, and Jarod recognized it immediately. There was a slight discussion between her and the sweeper assigned to his room – and then the exterior door slid open. He refused to look at her, but he knew when she stopped walking that she was in front of his cell.
"Poor baby. You look so sad." Brigitte stared hard at him, willing the prone form to look at her, but he would not move. With an exasperated sigh, she stepped closer to the cell, placing the small object she’d brought with her on the tray outside of the slot they used to push his food into the cell.
"Heard you were looking for this. Guess you dropped it when you went psycho in the hallway. You almost hurt my pet, Jarod. That wasn’t very nice of you."
‘This,’ Jarod thought, ‘what is this?’ He wanted to stay unaffected by her yet he was drawn to look at what "this" was. He turned his head and his eyes fell on the small black shoe that sat just outside of the Plexiglas cage that was his home. He was unable to control his body as he sprang from the cot, moving to the slot quickly as his eyes remained locked on the small memento of someone he had never known, but loved with all of his heart.
"She should have never tried to run. Always letting her emotions get in the way, that girl. I warned her, you know, after the carpenter bit it that she was getting soft, but I suppose she chose to ignore her dear mommy’s advice."
Now Jarod’s eyes lifted to meet Brigitte’s, and his cold glare caused her to take a step back from the glass.
"You are not her mother. You could never be her mother." Jarod’s words were filled with ice, and they strengthened Brigitte’s resolve. Finding her courage renewed, she stepped back toward the glass.
"Of course not, I’m still alive. Makes me a rarity among Parker women, doesn’t it?"
Jarod felt his hands clench into tight fists as he reminded himself to keep his rage down. Now was not the time. He would make them all pay for what they had done to her, but not yet. He had to get a grip on his mind first. He had to stay strong. This was the last thing he could do for her, and he would make certain he saw it through to the bitter end.
"Go away, Brigitte. Mutumbo and Raines won’t be happy to find out you were here."
"Mutumbo is gone, and Rainesey is busy planning all of the fun projects he’s going to give to you. I doubt they’ll be concerned with a brief visit from me. Anyway, I heard Raines started a Centre-wide search for this silly little shoe, and I was just bringing it back to you."
Jarod’s eyes returned to the small shoe that had just hours ago been worn by his son. Tears threatened at his eyes for the millionth time since he’d told Mutumbo that the accident had been real, but he would not cry in front of her. He moved his hand toward the slot and realized that he could not grasp the shoe from where it sat. The thought of asking Brigitte for help chilled his soul, but he felt a need he couldn’t begin to explain to hold that small piece of Ryan in his hands. He lifted his eyes and found hers.
"Would you move it closer?"
Brigitte licked her lips, a sly smile crossing her face. She took another step toward the cell and let one finger casually drop on to the shoe.
"Why should I?" Her words were somehow expected but the coldness of it still managed to shock Jarod. Parker was right, she was a total bitch.
"Please?"
Brigitte used her finger to move the shoe back from him, as her eyes laughed at him.
"Over attachment to children is such an old fashioned concept, Jarod. If you’d just seem him for what he was...look at my husband and I for example. Our little angel paved our way back to the Centre, to the seat of power. She’s marvelous...no pretender, but I’m told she may turn into the best assassin the Centre has ever raised."
Jarod closed his eyes against the emotion that welled up inside of him. Parker was gone, dead because she had tried to save their child and here this creature was flaunting the fact that she was letting them turn her baby into a killer? He felt himself silently curse God’s name for letting a world like this exist – one where people who deserved to have long, happy lives with their children bled to death in cars or drowned in rivers while they were running for their lives.
Brigitte read the hatred emanating from the Pretender in every feature of his face. She fought down the urge to laugh. He was so easy. A jibe about Parker, a careless remark about the little thing that had in actuality, guaranteed she and Mr. Parker’s return from exile, and he was ready to snap.
Brigitte pushed the shoe deeper into the slot and she saw Jarod’s eyes open as his hand reached out for it. He felt a slight scratching on his near one knuckle as he pulled the little black object away from her, but ignored it, his thoughts now only on what he held and who it belonged to.
"You’re such a sap, Jarod. Don’t you think it’s time for you to grow up?" He ignored her words, staring down at the shoe in his hands. "Oh, well, better get back to work. My little Lyle needs some more attention."
Brigitte walked out of the room, her triumphant smile going unnoticed by the sweeper outside. If Jarod thought he felt bad before, just wait until that little surprise she’d given him took effect. She’d teach him to mess with her possessions – and Lyle was just that – hers.
Back in the cell, Jarod sank down onto the cot, the tiny shoe clutched in his hands. He pulled out the photo again and stared at the smiling faces and hoped that wherever they were they were together and at peace. He did not notice the slight swelling on the area of his hand where Brigitte had scratched him, or feel the fever that was beginning to seep into his body. He felt nothing but pain and grief and he wondered how he was going to keep it from drowning him as they finally, mercifully extinguished the lights and left him in darkness.
He lay there in the darkness, and felt a coldness move into his soul. Gone. Dead. The words seem to amplify themselves with each passing thought. He screamed her name, waiting for a response. When he didn't hear anything, he'd scream it again and again. The words echoed off the Plexiglas and surrounded him. Soon he exhausted himself, waiting to hear her answer, then he yelled for Ryan, the shoe clutched tightly in his swollen hand. Thinking that he heard a small cry emanating some where in the dark room, he got off the cot and rushed to it only to crash resoundingly into the clear wall. After the third time, he slumped down, bringing his knees to his chest, hands over his ears, and screamed. The sweepers stationed out side his room, where terrified that they called for Raines.
******
A thin ray of light streaked across her eyes, causing her to awaken. She could sense something, someone calling to her, but she could not seem to make the answer of who it was come clear in her mind. Instead she focused on her present circumstances. Her side was sore, yet she had slept, soundly. Glancing around the room in the pre-dawn light, she realized that this was his room. She remembered asking. It was as her eyes focused on the desk that she inhaled sharply. Seated at the desk was, Ryan, his back to her.
"Ryan," she whispered in a hoarse croak," what are you doing?"
"Reading, Mommy." he climbed off the chair, a red notebook and photo album in his hands.
"What would you be reading?" she tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, yet she wanted to hear that word from him, she loved hearing that word.
He pushed the book and photo album onto the comforter, then scrambled up after them. Parker struggled to pull herself to a sitting position on the bed. Her body angry that she attempted to move, it was stiff and a wave of lightheadedness caused her to moan softly. She placed her head on the pillows, waiting for the moment to pass, before she placed a hand out for the notebook.
"This," he picked up the red notebook and placed it in Parker's outstretched hand," and pictures."
Startled at the revelation, that Ryan had found pictures. Pictures. What pictures, she asked, herself? Putting the notebook down, she patted the place beside her, Ryan scooted under the covers, dragging the big album with him. Just as she was about to open the cover, there was a knock at the door.
"What?" she called out, forgetting herself, momentarily," Come in."
The door opened and Jake popped his head in, taking in the sight of the boy and woman in the bed. A slow smile spread on his face when he caught sight of the album in her hands. Boy! did Jarod have some explaining to do when he got home.
"Mom wants to know if you're hungry?" Jake grinned, and Parker had to catch her breath.
"A little," she replied," Jake, any word on Jarod?"
"Hey, Ryan, how about some waffles and whipped crème. If you go down to the kitchen, I bet you could find a big plate loaded with. . ."
"Jake," Emily stood in the doorway," Hello, Miss Parker, Ryan."
"Emily, would you be so kind as to take Ryan to your parents, please," Parker asked, softly. She watched as the young woman came over to the bed, sitting next to the little boy.
"How about a piggy back ride?"
"What?" he asked, which drew a small smile from Parker.
"Climb on my back, and I'll carry you downstairs," Emily smiled at the small boy.
Parker watched as Emily and Ryan left the room amidst squeals of delight. Closing her eyes, briefly, she listened to the sound until she could no longer hear them.
"Jarod turned himself in shortly after you escaped," Jake said barely audible, yet loud enough that Parker's eyes flew open.
"He what?"
"Turned himself in, but that's not the half of it. We. . .drove your car of the Dolores Bridge by Angel Creek, the Centre sweepers found it shortly after. He probably believes that you and Ryan are. . . ."
"Dead?" she whispered, "Does anyone know that I'm alive?"
"Sydney and Broots. In fact, Broots and his daughter should be arriving shortly. He found Jarod's laptop and contacted Dad."
Parker again tried to up, but her body protested the attempted action by jolting her with a sharp and painful reminder that she was in no shape to go running to Jarod’s rescue.
"Jake, listen to me. You’ve got to find a way for someone to get word to Jarod that we’re okay."
"We will. It’s just going to take time."
"No!" Parker’s tone made the boy step back a bit, and had she not been so worried she would have felt sorry for startling him. "You’ve never seen Jarod grieve. I have. If he thinks he’s lost...his son, Jake, he’ll shut down. All he’ll care about is getting to my brother, and that’s it."
"Miss Parker –"
"Jake, you have to tell Sydney to get to him. He has to know the truth before it’s too late."
Jake was still a young man, but he could see the genuine fear that was in Miss Parker’s eyes. He was about to speak when a tiny voice boomed loudly from downstairs.
"Mommy, I’ll be up with your breakfast in a minute. Me and Emily are doing a surprise for you."
"Jake, please." He looked back at her, and though he couldn’t imagine his brother reacting the way she was describing, he had to admit that she had known Jarod longer, and seen him in far worse situations than he and the rest of the family had.
"Okay, I’ll go and get Dad."
Parker watched as he left, her heart pounding in her chest. She understood of course why they had done what they’d done. It was good strategy and it had probably saved them all – no doubt a scheme of Jake’s making. Still, it didn’t make it easier to know that Jarod thought that they were gone. The Centre would rub his face in it.
She could feel tears threatening at her eyes when she heard footsteps coming toward her room. Soon Emily and Ryan entered with a breakfast tray filled with waffles and whip crème and milk. The tray was adorned with tinsel – a reminder that Christmas was coming soon.
"Look Mommy, it’s all dec’rated." Emily held the tray as her nephew climbed into bed next to his mother, then she sat it down over Parker’s legs. She watched as the woman she’d resented for so long struggled into a comfortable position her hand, rediscovering the red notebook and the photo album that Ryan had handed her earlier. Emily sat down on the edge of the bed, as she reached over to cut up the waffles into kid-size pieces.
"What have you got there?" Ryan managed to look up from the waffles, which had him most intrigued as Emily spoke, and he glanced over at the items in his mother’s hand.
"Oh, that’s stuff I was reading earlier. It’s all about Mommy."
Emily and Parker shared a surprised look, then Parker reached over and smoothed Ryan’s hair as he began munching on the delicious new breakfast food in front of him.
"What do you mean, Ryan? What’s all about me?"
"The book. It’s stories about you. Stuff you did when you were little, and stuff that made you sad when you grew’d up. And the other book has lots and lots of pictures of you in it."
Parker narrowed her eyes, her confusion mixing with her curiosity.
"Where did you find these, baby?"
"In that desk. Hey, I guess they must belong to your friend, right? You said this was his room."
Parker looked at Emily who could only shrug in response. She had seen Jarod with both of the books several times during their holidays together, but he had never allowed her to see what was inside.
"Mommy, who is he? Why did Margaret say he would be more than my friend?"
"Well, baby, he’s, um..."
"Is he my daddy?"
Parker again felt the urge to run and hide from the tiny genius who sat beside her. How did he keep figuring everything out before she was ready to talk about it? Her eyes fell on Emily who remained powerless to help her, and after taking a deep breath, Parker decided she had no choice but to try and answer his question.
"Yes, Ryan, Jarod is your daddy."
"Jarod – isn’t that Major Charles’ other son?"
"Mm-hmm, and he’s Emily’s big brother." That surprised Ryan, who still wasn’t sure how all of these people were connected. His eyes widened as his whip crème covered smile grew.
"So that means we’re related?"
Emily nodded and Ryan happily picked up another bite of waffle. He chewed carefully looking at both women before he finally uttered a response of his own.
"Cool. Mommy, you’re not eating."
Parker looked at the plate, and though what little hunger she’d felt had vanished with the news of the trouble that Jarod was in, she didn’t want Ryan worrying about her, so she reached out and grabbed her fork, taking a small bite of the food.
"That’s better. So, will you tell me about him?"
Emily sat in the silence that followed the little boy’s question, and she decided it was time for her to go. She began to stand up when she felt Parker’s hand reach out and touch her knee.
"Stay, please."
Emily nodded and sat back into the spot she had occupied. Ryan climbed closer to his mother, leaning against her uninjured side as he reached out and covered his little fingers with whip crème, quickly putting them into his mouth. Parker laughed out loud, thinking about how much this little miracle was like his father.
"Well, for starters, your daddy and you are going to get along really, really well."
*****
Sydney had carefully packed up the items from Miss Parker’s house which Broots and given to Bart. They were now safely in his car waiting for him to make some move toward his daughter. God, it felt so good to think it, to stop censoring his love for her after so long. He knew that she would probably never forgive him for keeping the truth from her, and he couldn’t really blame her. How do you forgive someone for abandoning you to the darkness? Yet when she’d had to, she had saved herself from it, hadn’t she? Something he wanted to feel pride in, but he felt he did not deserve to. Besides, there was no time to feel sorry for himself right now. There was something he could do for his child, and he intended to do it.
The web site had come to life an hour ago and the message from Jake not only made perfect sense, it alerted him to Parker’s improving condition. She had guessed that the Centre would use her "death" against Jarod and wanted him to know the truth.
He had been trying to get to Jarod since the debacle of a T-board had ended, but Raines had left orders that he was not to be allowed access to Jarod, and no one seemed willing to disobey those orders. He was even barred from using the Tower elevator for the moment. Which meant he needed help.
It had taken some time to find Sam without drawing attention to the fact that he was searching for the man. Finally, he came upon the sweeper in of all places, the hallway outside of Mr. Parker’s office.
"Sam, what are you doing here?"
"I asked to be assigned to Mr. Parker. I thought it was what Miss Parker would want." Sam winked slyly at Sydney to let him know that he was in on the game and would not let the truth get away from him. Good. There was one problem solved.
"Has there been any word on Jarod?" Sydney tried to sound as neutral as he could, though he figured anyone who was listening would know he was anything but where the Pretender was concerned.
"I hear he’s not doing well, sir." A tightening in his chest kept Sydney from responding right away, and before he could get any more words out, the door of the office swung open and Mr. Parker was beside him.
"Oh, Sydney. I’m glad to see you. I was wondering if you would mind pulling together a small service for Angel. You know, something she would have liked. I’d do it but..."
‘But you have no idea who she loves or what she’d want.’ The thought went unspoken, but only because Sydney was no longer interested in himself. He was going to do what Catherine had died trying to do. Somehow, Jarod was going to be free again.
"Of course, I’ll get right to it."
Having received the answer he wanted, Mr. Parker moved back into his office and shut the door again, leaving Sam and Sydney alone.
"Well, Sam, I’ll be in my office. Please let me know if there’s any other news."
Sam nodded and Sydney moved away. He had a lot to think about, starting with how on earth they were going to get into that room with Jarod.
*******
The sweepers watched as the man they had all chased for years began to throw his body against the Plexiglas. He was going to hurt himself for certain, and they knew that would mean their heads. Thankfully Bart arrived and made the only clear headed decision that could be made. He would try and reach Mr. Raines.
Of course, he didn’t tell them that before he did so, he would be stopping by Sam’s new post to tell him of the goings on in the Tower. They had to be able to use this somehow. He and Sam had decided the night of Miss Parker’s disappearance that every action they took from now on would be to protect those she cared for.
He knew people would wonder why, but he didn’t care. For years now they had managed to survive in a place where watching your back wasn’t just a saying, it was a mantra, but you had to watch it a little less when Miss Parker was around. She never let anyone on her team go down without fighting for them, and Bart had long ago decided she was the most amazing person he had ever known. Now he and Sam had a chance to pay her back for the loyalty she had bestowed on them.
Sam was in the hallway just where Bart knew he would be, and he approached acting like any mid-level sweeper would when consulting with a supervisor. He informed Sam of the situation with the Pretender, and of his intention to contact Mr. Raines.
"That sounds like the best course of action, Bart. I’ll make sure the proper people know of the situation."
Bart nodded and headed off, and Sam knocked softly on Mr. Parker’s door. His fought to keep his eyes from rolling in disgust as he saw Brigitte sitting on the edge of his desk, fawning over the old man. It was she who turned and looked at him.
"What is it, Sam?"
"I need to go check on some new recruits. Will you be all right without me?"
"Don’t worry, Sammy. I’m here to look after my sweetie pie if anything happens."
A wave of nausea passed through the sweeper’s stomach as he turned and left the office. That those two were here safe and sound when...no, he wouldn’t think about it. They had a chance now, and he was going to see to it that they used it.
It took him but a few minutes to reach Sydney’s office, and he saw the older man look at him with expectant eyes as he stepped into the room.
"Sydney, can you get a message to Broots?"
"Yes. Why?"
"We need to make sure Mr. Raines is unreachable by pager or cell phone."
Sydney reached for the computer and began typing on the secure line Broots had set up before leaving, but his attention remained on Sam.
"What’s going on, Sam?"
"Jarod’s having a crisis." He saw Sydney tense immediately, but knew now was not the time for keeping secrets. "If we can’t reach Raines, maybe we can get them to let you inside, and then..."
‘And then,’ Sydney thought, ‘we’ll find a way to get Jarod the hell out of here.’
*****
The incessant beeping from the laptop jolted Broots awake. Heading to the table, he answered his email. Waiting for the letter to open, he glanced over at his daughter, who was now awake.
"Daddy?"
"Get ready to leave, pumpkin. As soon as I'm finished here, we have someplace wonderful to go."
"Will I see Miss Parker?"
"Yes," Broots replied, busy at the keyboard.
*****
The dreams came again.
Lyle sat on his cot in the dark cell. He was distracted, his mind was wandering. It was the dreams he feared. The images. A sense of helplessness seemed to fill him. There was something nibbling away at him. He brushed the thought away. It was nothing. He was allowing the dreams to push his imagination to the limits. The dreams filtered around his consciousness. He needed answers. Who did the many pairs of luminous eyes belong too?
Black as night. . . .there were voices whispering to him, and crying to him, and shapeless forms moving about gracefully; at first they didn't seem to notice him, but then they did, and they walked toward him, and surrounded him, and they began to scream, louder and louder and yet the louder they screamed, the quieter they were. How he thought? How could they make no sound?
He threw his arms up defensively, trying to ward them off, and then they were upon him and through him, insinuating themselves into him and he tried to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. He cried out, shouting for help, and they were everywhere . . .
They called to him, Lyle! Lyle! You loved us, hurt us, tortured us, why, why, why? He had no idea what to do or where to go, and there was no escape, and they were calling to him again. . .
And there was a woman, a blue-eyed woman, and she was walking toward him with a grim and frightening look on her face, and he heard a name-Murderer and it frightened him and she was reaching for him. . . He opened his eyes and screamed, his body drenched in a cold sweat.
Brigitte watched the scene from the office she shared with her husband, sucking eagerly on her lollipop. Good. He was suffering just as he deserved to suffer. Despite all that had transpired between them, despite their past as allies, he had left her out in the cold for nearly four years – four years of battling along side her husband to reclaim their power.
To her surprise, Mr. Parker had turned out to be a far better ally than she had ever imagined. Though he had random bouts of what she could only describe as insanity thanks to the "re-education" he had endured after the disaster in North Carolina, when he turned it on, he was as formidable as any man she had ever known.
Lyle curled up into a ball, trying to fight back whatever demon was chasing him now, and Brigitte smiled, wondering how the other man she hated was doing right about now. Oh, how she loved having the Centre drug cabinet at her disposal once again.
*****
Bart had entered the room, ordering the other sweepers to remain outside. He knew that he could not enter the Plexiglas cage to help Jarod, but he would not leave him alone. He had tried to talk to him, to find a way to let him know that Miss Parker and the boy were not dead, but there was no reaching him.
For hours now the Pretender had done nothing but alternately scream their names and cry. He was exhausted. His body was bruised from repeated rammings against the glass, and he was covered with sweat, but still he would not stop. It was as if his grief had become completely irrational, and Bart had no idea how much more the man could take.
Thankfully, there was hope that it might end soon. Sam was on his way to see Mr. Parker to tell him that despite repeated attempts, Mr. Raines was unreachable and the Pretender needed help now. Hopefully, the plan would work. If not, they might all be facing the grim task of finding Miss Parker only to tell her that Jarod had not survived his incarceration.
******
Sydney sat at his desk waiting. The phone needed to ring. It had to ring. From what Sam had told him, Jarod was in very bad shape and he had to get to him to make him understand the truth.
As he sat there waiting, Sydney fingered the medical file that Broots had given him...God, had it only been two days ago that their whole world had turned upside down?
He did not open the file. He knew all to well what was inside of it. Another misdeed done against his daughter. Not only had they stolen her child from her, but they had been careless in doing so. The chances of Parker being able to carry a child herself were now less than 40%. Sydney had no idea how he would tell her this. He knew that she had stopped wanting children after Thomas, feeling that it was something she was not meant to have. Yet now there was Ryan, and soon, hopefully, there would be Jarod for her, too. He suspected that motherhood would stoke in her a desire to have another child – one she carried herself. How could he tell her that she would be risking her life if she did so?
Damn them, he thought. Damn them all. And damn myself for not getting her out of here sooner.
The phone rang and Sydney reached for it, trying to keep his voice even and free of expectation. He was not surprised to hear Mr. Parker’s voice on the other end.
"Sydney, we have a situation here."
"Sir?"
"Jarod is...having some difficulties. We’ve been unable to reach Mr. Raines. I was wondering..."
"There are orders that I’m not to be allowed in the Tower or near Jarod."
"I’ll take you there myself. I’ll meet you at the Tower elevator in three minutes."
Sydney hung up the phone and turned and stared once more at the file on his desk. He could not undo the damage they had done to Parker’s body, but he could find a way to heal her soul...and Jarod’s. That begun by doing what seemed impossible.
Setting Jarod free.
