Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: Disclaimers are boring. If you really want to know, see chapter 1, otherwise just read on. -(10/01/03)
Stumbling Toward Nirvana
By Phenyx Chapter 9
-
Parker's consciousness returned slowly. She became aware that she was in a car, propped against the passenger side window like a crumpled sack of groceries. There was movement, jerky brisk motions as the vehicle sped around turns and curves in the road. When she opened her eyes, Parker could see that she was in a sporty black mustang. The torn wires leaking from the dashboard indicated that the car had been hotwired.
Jarod was in the driver's seat. His jaw was clenched tightly as he drove, furious determination etched in every line of his face. His shirt and jacket were both shiny with blood from the wound on his shoulder.
As Parker tried to straighten in her seat, her own injury flared in pain. Looking down, Parker could see that her thigh had also been bleeding badly.
"I noticed a gym bag in the back seat," Jarod said in a hard, clipped tone. "See if you can find something to use for bandages."
For a moment, Parker stared numbly at him, as though she couldn't understand the language. Finally, she shook herself and leaned into the back seat, being careful not to jostle her leg any more than necessary.
Locating a small duffel bag on the floor behind Jarod, Parker hauled the bag onto her lap. Rummaging inside, she found workout clothes, a towel and a travel sized first aid kit. Though the kit contained little more than liniment and tiny band-aids, it did include a small pair of scissors that Parker used to cut the towel into long strips.
Quickly wrapping her thigh, Parker firmly tied a makeshift bandage around her leg, grimacing slightly as she pulled it tight. Jarod shrugged his torn arm out of the sleeve of his jacket so that Parker could cover his shoulder in the same manner.
With that done, Parker searched through the duffel again, hoping for something useful in this situation. Once she realized the futility of the exercise, Parker tossed the bag over her shoulder and into the back seat.
Gazing out the windshield, Miss Parker recognized the state highway on which they traveled. It would not be long before they crossed out of Delaware and into Maryland. She wordlessly cast Jarod an icy glare.
Though the pretender seemed intensely focused on the road in front of him, he answered Parker's scowl. "They won't hurt him," Jarod said firmly.
Parker crossed her arms over her chest.
"I found a cell phone," Jarod added, pulling the device from his pocket like evidence. "I've called for help. They'll meet us in Virginia. We should be there before nightfall."
Steely gray eyes shot daggers at the pretender across the tight confines of the car. Parker radiated pure fury.
"We'll get him back," Jarod vowed. "If I have to tear that place down brick by brick, we will find him." With his free hand, Jarod gently reached out to pat Parker's arm.
She cringed away from Jarod, violently slapping at him. "Don't touch me!" Parker shrieked. As she batted at Jarod, she jostled the wound on his shoulder, making him gasp. The car swerved abruptly on the road as Jarod cringed in pain.
"You!" Parker yelled, oblivious to the car's erratic motion. "Of all people, how could YOU leave him there!"
"What could we have done, Parker?" Jarod yelled back. "Charge down the corridor and get ourselves shot?"
"You left him there alone!" Parker hollered.
"We are both wounded," Jarod exclaimed. "You were unarmed, I couldn't reload the weapon I had. We were hopelessly outnumbered. I did what I had to. We can't help Charlie if we're dead or captured."
"You did what you had to in order to survive, to save your own ass!" Parker hissed.
"Survival is what I was taught," Jarod snarled back. He sighed, trying to reign in his temper. Parker was entitled to be upset, he couldn't blame her for that one bit. But Parker's instinct was to lash out and Jarod was currently her only target. Jarod's instinct was to fight back, but if he started retaliating to Parker's barbs, things would only get worse than they already were.
"You abandoned my son in that horrible place," Parker gasped in a choked voice.
"We will get him back," Jarod said with determination.
Parker's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "He's all alone and they have him," she said hopelessly.
"We'll find him," Jarod repeated.
"Oh Jarod," Parker cried with an anguished gasp. "What will they do to my baby?"
Jarod chewed for a moment at his lower lip. "They will run tests first. For the next thirty-six hours or more, they will give him puzzle problems to test his skill level."
"What if he's not good enough?" Parker whispered. "What if he can't pass their tests?"
Jarod wordlessly cast a quick glance at Parker, his dark eyes wide and anxious. He didn't need to tell her what would happen, they both knew. If Charlie didn't have the natural pretender gift that Jarod possessed, Raines would try to instill the talent in the boy by artificial means.
"They won't hurt him," Jarod said in a low urgent voice. "They won't."
"Say it a few more times," Parker hissed icily. "You might be able to believe it. But I don't."
Parker hid her face in her hands and began to cry silently. She made no sounds other than her breathing and the occasional sniffle. Only the fragile shaking of her shoulders gave any indication of her tears. With every soundless sob, Jarod felt his heart crumble a little more.
Jarod would have preferred Parker's fury. The hopelessness of her quiet tears ripped into Jarod's heart. Choking back his own fear and grief, Jarod focused on the road. He used all his powers of concentration to keep himself from worrying about Charlie.
After what seemed an eternity, Parker raised her head to stare blindly out the window. They drove on in silence for hours. Bloodied and disheveled as they were, Jarod had to be very cautious when he stopped for fuel. Luckily he found a deserted gas station that had the pay at the pump option.
Time slid by as the ribbon of asphalt passed beneath them. At some point, Parker fell into an uneasy, fitful sleep. Jarod frowned at the road as his head began to pound with fatigue and his shoulder throbbed. Finally, just before sunset, Jarod turned the car down an old dirt road leading up to a large farmhouse.
The farm was well tended but without crops. The fields around the house and barn were filled with tall grass and wild flowers. As the car pulled to a stop beside the front porch lights could be seen shining from inside.
Turning off the ignition, Jarod heaved a sigh and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel wearily. His wounded arm hung woodenly at his side and he cradled it gently against his body. Parker yanked on the handle and threw open the door, trying to get out of the car as fast as she could. But as she stepped out, her injured leg stiffened and she gasped.
"Hey there," an anxious voice purred. "Easy now, sis."
Parker looked up and saw Ethan standing at her side, holding the door open for her. With a gentle smile, her half-brother took Parker by the arm and helped her ease from the vehicle.
"Careful," Ethan said. "That's it, lean against me."
"You beat us here," Jarod observed as he climbed out of the driver's seat.
Ethan nodded. "We flew. You said it was urgent, so Dad thought we should get here as quickly as possible."
Jarod carefully made his way around the car and walked at his brother's side as they headed toward the house.
"What's the emergency?" Ethan asked curiously. As observant as he was, it only took Ethan a moment to realize that Jarod and Miss Parker were avoiding all contact with each other.
"I would rather only have to explain it once," Jarod said with a sigh. "Let's join the others."
Once inside, Parker was quickly maneuvered to the couch. With pillows propped behind her back, Ethan gently stretched Parker's injured leg on the cushions and began to examine the wound. Jarod stood in the center of the room, cradling his arm and watching his brother's actions.
"Jarod!" an older, red-haired woman exclaimed from the doorway. "You're hurt."
Jarod shook his head sadly. "It's nothing, Mother. I'll live."
Jarod's mother rushed to his side and carefully pulled back the blood soaked rags covering his shoulder. "Charles!" she called through the house. "Bring the triage kit. We have wounded."
A moment later, Major Charles appeared carrying a case roughly the size of a tackle box. At his side was a handsome young man with dark eyes. Parker did a double take. The young man looked to be in his early twenties, his wavy brown hair had been streaked with blond dye. He had a powerful physique though his musculature was not quite as well defined as Jarod's.
The young man grinned in a cocky manner that Parker recognized all too well. "Good grief," the young man exclaimed. "Don't we look like hell?"
Jarod sighed wearily. "Not now, Jack," he groaned.
With a shrug, the young man crouched beside Ethan next to the couch. "Hello, Miss Parker," Jack said. "It is good to see you again."
Parker blinked at him. "Look at you," she said softly. "All grown up."
Jack grinned playfully causing Parker to feel strangely disconnected. She knew that this boy was the genetic replication of Jarod. But despite the incredible similarities between the two, the visible differences between Jack and his twin were numerous. They were not mirror images of one another. The age difference and the scar along Jarod's jaw were the most obvious discrepancies but there were others. Jack seemed softer somehow, less angular in his features.
For the next several minutes, Jarod's family tended their wounded. Emily fetched water from the kitchen and clean clothes from another room.
Glancing furtively from Jarod to Miss Parker, Margaret asked cautiously, "What about the little boy?"
Straightening in his chair, Jarod said bluntly, "The Centre has him."
Jarod's parents both gasped.
"But we will get him back," Jarod added firmly.
"We wouldn't have to get him back if you hadn't left him behind," Parker hissed.
Jarod flinched as though she had struck him.
"Miss Parker," Margaret scolded gently. "Blaming Jarod won't help ease your pain." Jarod's mother crossed the room and perched on the cushions of the couch. "You'll need each other's strength now more than ever. Trust me, I know."
"You know nothing," Parker snarled.
"I know how you feel," Margaret said softly. "You've lost your child and now you are hurting like I was so many years ago."
"No," Parker growled. "It isn't the same. My son isn't lost. I know EXACTLY where he is." She gasped as agony ripped through her heart. "I know exactly what they are going to do to him."
Margaret cast a wary glance across the room at Jarod. The pretender looked away, unable to meet his mother's gaze. Parker saw the silent exchange and interpreted it with flawless accuracy.
"He's never told you," Parker laughed cruelly. "He was missing for thirty years and you have no idea what happened to him during that time. Shall I tell you, Margaret? Do you want to know how they treated him?"
"Parker," Jarod whispered desperately. "What purpose would it serve?"
Parker went on as though the pretender hadn't spoken. "Shall I tell you about the injections, the experimentation, the torture?" her voice began to rise. Whether it was with anger or hysteria, no one could tell. "Shall I tell you about the Christmas I found him cowering under his cot? His wrists were torn and scorched where manacles had circled his flesh. They had chained him up and then heated the metal until it blistered his skin. He was shivering in shock and pain when I found him. He was twelve years old."
Margaret stared at Parker, her eyes widened in horror with each word.
Jarod glanced up at Parker miserably, "You gave me candy," he remembered. "Orange flavored Pez from a Santa shaped dispenser."
"Who's going to be there to give Charlie candy?" Parker asked hopelessly.
The Major stepped to his wife's side and laid a calming hand on her shoulder. Jarod's mother was visibly shaken by what she had just learned.
"Together we will bring him home," Major Charles said forcefully.
Parker glared at him with a frightening, ice-queen look. "You couldn't rescue your own son," she bit menacingly. "Why should I trust you with mine?"
"You frigid bitch," Emily exclaimed harshly. "How dare you!"
Parker half rose from her seat as Ethan tried to keep her still. Margaret jumped from the couch as though burnt by a flame. Turning toward her husband, Jarod's mother rushed into the major's protective embrace.
"Please STOP!" Jarod wailed. His body seemed to collapse as Jarod hugged himself and curled into a ball. This was too much. Kidnappings had always preyed viciously on the most fragile point of Jarod's psyche. The abduction of his own son and Jarod's inability to protect the boy pushed the pretender to the very edge. The slender thread of control Jarod had on his emotions began to snap, cascading rapidly into a full meltdown.
Shivering uncontrollably, Jarod huddled against the easy chair in which he sat. "I'm sorry," he began to murmur as tears ran down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Emily stroked one hand across Jarod's brow in a soothing motion. But the pretender's reaction was a frightened scream as he flailed away from his sister. Jarod's eyes glazed over and a tortured moan escaped his lips.
"Jarod?" Emily cried moving toward him again.
"Don't touch him!" Jack ordered. Scrambling across the room, the young man pulled his sister away.
"But," she began.
"Do you want him go ballistic on us?" Jack asked in a hard tone. "He could end up catatonic if we're not careful. Give him a minute."
The family stood around helplessly for several minutes as Jarod wept and rocked his body miserably. Finally, Jack crouched in front of his older twin, carefully leaving several inches of space between them.
"Jarod," Jack called in a firm voice. "Pull it together bro. This isn't going to help that little boy."
Parker, tears cascading down her cheeks, felt an odd sensation envelop her. It was so strange, watching the two not quite identical men interact. Jarod was in anguish and Parker had ripped into him even more. Her Centre training had served her well. Of all people, Parker knew how badly Jarod would react to all this. Yet she had still kicked the pretender while he was down. In her own pain, she had succeeded in increasing his.
"Jarod," Jack called a second time. "Charlie needs you. We have work to do."
Jarod's shuddering began to ease. His agonized sobs grew quieter.
"That's it," Jack said. "Get a grip, big brother. Charlie needs his daddy."
Jarod sniffled as he struggled to regain his composure. Heaving deep, cleansing breaths, Jarod fought for control over his emotions. Raising his head, Jarod cast his brother a look of woe. "Jack?" he asked meekly.
With a reassuring smile Jack replied. "Yea, Jarod. It's me." Moving slowly so as not to spook the pretender, Jack reached out and patted Jarod on the knee. "Come on back to us, bro. We can't do this without you."
Nodding wordlessly, Jarod straightened and took several more deep inhalations. Clamping down tightly on his fear and pain, Jarod forced his tumult aside, burying it deep within.
"That's better," Jack purred. Jack clasped one hand around the back of Jarod's neck, giving his big brother a rough hug of sorts. "Gotta stay cool, bro. Frosty like a snowman."
Scrubbing one forearm across his face, Jarod sniffled and wiped away the last of his tears. "I'm okay, " Jarod said steadily. "Thanks, Jack."
"You were overdue for a neurotic episode anyway," Jack teased with a grin. With a playful slap on the back of Jarod's head, Jack stood. "At least you didn't punch me this time."
Jarod rose from the chair and tested the stiffness of his wounded shoulder. "You didn't deserve to be punched this time," he said with a sad smile.
"Here," Emily said gently as she handed Jarod a glass of water.
"Thanks," Jarod took the glass and gulped down the contents noisily. "Ethan, I need a lap top," Jarod said between swallows.
With a brief nod Ethan said, "I brought three." He left the room to fetch the computers.
"What can I do, Jarod?" his mother asked.
Jarod glanced questioningly at Miss Parker. "Coffee?" He asked.
Parker nodded. Margaret scurried off to the kitchen with Emily in tow.
Standing beside the couch, Jarod looked down at Parker and asked, "Do you need anything else?"
Parker shook her head. The frightened, broken soul who had been bitterly weeping a few minutes ago was completely gone. In his place was this calm, confident pretender, ready for anything. Parker gained a new appreciation for this man. She suddenly realized that Jarod had never truly put his childhood trauma behind him. He simply chose to ignore it, to move past the horrors The Centre had inflicted on him. But in failing to deal with those scars, Jarod had never really healed. As a result, the old wounds surfaced on occasion causing the pain to ooze from him like an infection.
The Centre had left its mark on them both. Neither would ever be able to forget their past.
Jarod began to turn away.
"Jarod?" Parker stopped him with a word. "I'm sorry."
Jarod kept his back to her as he sighed. "So am I, Miss Parker. We have a real talent for ripping into one another whenever The Centre starts screwing with us. Old habits die hard."
"It wasn't your fault," Parker whispered. "You did what you had to. I know that."
Jarod nodded but said nothing.
"Jarod," she said with soft urging. "Look at me."
As though gathering his courage, Jarod faltered for a moment before turning to face Parker.
"Promise me that we'll get him back," she whispered.
"I swear it," Jarod vowed. Whirling briskly on his heel, Jarod stormed after Ethan and left room.
--
The waiting was hard.
Jarod had never felt this type of impatience before. Waiting had been such an integral part of his life that patience had become second nature to him. More than one simulation had succeeded simply because Jarod had learned to wait for the results.
But this was so very different. Jarod could feel every minute ticking by as though some cataclysmic count down was running in his head. Each hour brought more terrible images to Jarod's imagination. Yet despite his anxiety, there was nothing left to do but wait.
Jarod had started his campaign to rescue his son by emailing Angelo. The only connection Jarod had left in The Centre, Angelo was the only way of learning about the current security setup. Jarod had been out of contact for too long. He could not expect things to be the same as they were four years ago. And with a little luck, Angelo would be able to pinpoint Charlie's location, making the rescue effort that much easier.
Ethan and Jack had left the farm for several hours during the night. When they had returned shortly after midnight, they had come equipped with a small arsenal. Jarod didn't know where his brothers had found so many weapons and frankly he didn't care. He was now well armed and more than willing to use deadly force to get his son back.
Jarod had accessed some old files he had stored on a remote server some years ago. There he retrieved copies of The Centre's blue prints. The possibility did exist that major renovations had changed the basic layout of the compound in the last few years. But that was a variable they would have to be prepared for. The plan Jarod devised needed to be flexible enough to handle all the unknowns in this equation.
Once Angelo returned his email, Jarod would know more. Then they would be able to move. So now, the pretender waited to hear from his old friend.
Parker had finally fallen into a fitful sleep just before dawn. Stress and exhaustion had finally overcome her concern for her child. Jarod had stood in the dark room for a long time and watched her sleep. Parker's anger had shifted away from Jarod since they had arrived. Her fury now focused entirely on the people who had taken her son.
As they had worked and plotted together during the night, Parker had shown Jarod her repentance again and again. Gentle random touches and the occasional caress, told Jarod that she did not really blame him for Charlie's abduction. Her rage had been an instinctive reaction to the situation.
When Parker had finally turned toward Jarod and allowed him to embrace her, the pretender had felt as though heaven itself was offering him absolution. She had cried in his arms, drenching his shirt with her desperate tears. Jarod tried to soothe her with promises as she wept, vowing again and again that Charlie would be back. Jarod had held her until she finally drifted to sleep.
Jarod had watched over her for a time, marveling at her beauty. Parker had always been the standard by which he measured every woman he'd ever met. She was no less incredible to him now that she had been when he was a boy. Gazing at her through the dark, Jarod knew that he would do anything for this woman and her child. The fact that Charlie was Jarod's own son had little to do with the pretender's devotion to the boy. Parker cherished the little tyke therefore Jarod would give his life to bring the boy back to her.
As sunlight began to ease over the horizon, Jarod had left the room to check his email. There had been no reply from Angelo. Frustrated and irritable, Jarod had quietly stepped outside and sat on the porch stairs to watch the dawn. The pretender was amazed at how normal everything seemed. The sun rose, the birds sang, fluffy clouds blew across a bright blue sky. The world went on, oblivious to the plight of a lost little boy and the family who missed him so desperately.
The thirty-six hour mark came and went. Jarod tried to imagine who had been assigned to Charlie's case as project coordinator. Was there anyone left at The Centre who possessed the subtle kindness that Sydney had shown him as a boy? Knowing that Sydney had retired a couple of years ago dashed Jarod's hopes that the psychiatrist could help this time.
The morning sun was well into the sky when Jarod heard a quiet sound behind him. The screen door opened slowly and cautious footsteps approached.
"Any word from Angelo?" Parker asked softly.
Jarod glanced at the laptop, open and waiting to one side. "Nothing," he answered.
Parker sat on the step beside him, carefully favoring her sore leg. "Jarod," she began. "What if Angelo isn't there? What if he's gone? What if they've finally killed him?"
Jarod shook his head sternly. "No," he said firmly. "I won't believe that. Angelo has survived all this time, I won't believe that he has struggled so long, only to fail."
They fell silent, staring out over the sun drenched meadows. The farmhouse was in a deeply rural area. The long gravel driveway led only to a dirt road. The occasional tractor or sturdy pickup truck rumbled passed. Big eighteen-wheelers loaded with livestock zoomed by at long intervals.
"What will we do if Angelo doesn't contact us?" Parker asked finally.
"He will," Jarod argued.
Parker sighed. "You're putting a lot of faith in that mush-headed cretin," she said warily.
Jarod frowned. "Angelo is a lot saner that anyone gives him credit for," he protested. "He's always played the idiot for them. The more that The Centre underestimated him, the better his advantage. Many times, I've relied on Angelo and he has never let me down. Never."
"Then why won't he answer?" Parker asked desperately.
"I don't know," Jarod whispered back. Parker put her forehead against Jarod's good shoulder and snuggled against him. Greedily wanting to be comforted in return, Jarod put an arm around Parker and held her close.
They sat there, clinging to each other, drawing strength from one another.
Jarod stiffened when he noticed a grungy, battered old truck on the dirt road. The truck didn't roar by like all the others had. Instead this one screeched its brakes and wheezed to a halt at the end of the long gravel driveway. The truck idled there for a full minute as two figures hopped to the ground from the cargo area.
With a chugging cough and a beep of the horn, the truck began moving again, spitting dust from the road as it went.
Jarod sat in stunned amazement as he watched two people wave the truck away and begin the long walk up the driveway. Parker gasped beside him and staggered to her feet. From this distance, it wasn't clear who was approaching but it was obviously a man with wild, tangled hair. He held the hand of a little boy who was happily bouncing up and down on both feet as the pair made their way toward the house.
"CHARLIE!" Parker screamed as she hobbled across the yard.
The child left his companion behind and began running toward the house. "Mommy!"
Jarod was not aware that he had actually left the porch. He raced down the driveway and scooped the little boy into his arms and squeezed him close. Parker reached them a moment later and hauled Charlie against her bosom as she burst into happy tears.
"Momma," Charlie cried as he hugged his mother hard. "I missed you!"
Parker laughed. "I missed you too baby. I was so worried."
"I rode on a train!" Charlie grinned. "Angelo and I had french fries for breakfast. He never had french fries before." Charlie babbled excitedly.
Jarod, blinded by tears of sheer joy, turned toward the odd, wild-haired man as he approached. "Angelo," Jarod gasped in a choked voice. "I don't understand. How did you? Why, after all this time?" The pretender shook his head, unable to articulate his astonishment.
Angelo smiled in that strange, crooked way of his. "It was time to go home," he said.
Jarod laughed. "How can I ever thank you, my old friend?"
"French fries?" Angelo asked hopefully.
Parker and Jarod burst into laughter of such relief that it bordered on hysteria.
"Anything you want, Angelo," Jarod managed to say. "Anything at all."
Stumbling Toward Nirvana
By Phenyx Chapter 9
-
Parker's consciousness returned slowly. She became aware that she was in a car, propped against the passenger side window like a crumpled sack of groceries. There was movement, jerky brisk motions as the vehicle sped around turns and curves in the road. When she opened her eyes, Parker could see that she was in a sporty black mustang. The torn wires leaking from the dashboard indicated that the car had been hotwired.
Jarod was in the driver's seat. His jaw was clenched tightly as he drove, furious determination etched in every line of his face. His shirt and jacket were both shiny with blood from the wound on his shoulder.
As Parker tried to straighten in her seat, her own injury flared in pain. Looking down, Parker could see that her thigh had also been bleeding badly.
"I noticed a gym bag in the back seat," Jarod said in a hard, clipped tone. "See if you can find something to use for bandages."
For a moment, Parker stared numbly at him, as though she couldn't understand the language. Finally, she shook herself and leaned into the back seat, being careful not to jostle her leg any more than necessary.
Locating a small duffel bag on the floor behind Jarod, Parker hauled the bag onto her lap. Rummaging inside, she found workout clothes, a towel and a travel sized first aid kit. Though the kit contained little more than liniment and tiny band-aids, it did include a small pair of scissors that Parker used to cut the towel into long strips.
Quickly wrapping her thigh, Parker firmly tied a makeshift bandage around her leg, grimacing slightly as she pulled it tight. Jarod shrugged his torn arm out of the sleeve of his jacket so that Parker could cover his shoulder in the same manner.
With that done, Parker searched through the duffel again, hoping for something useful in this situation. Once she realized the futility of the exercise, Parker tossed the bag over her shoulder and into the back seat.
Gazing out the windshield, Miss Parker recognized the state highway on which they traveled. It would not be long before they crossed out of Delaware and into Maryland. She wordlessly cast Jarod an icy glare.
Though the pretender seemed intensely focused on the road in front of him, he answered Parker's scowl. "They won't hurt him," Jarod said firmly.
Parker crossed her arms over her chest.
"I found a cell phone," Jarod added, pulling the device from his pocket like evidence. "I've called for help. They'll meet us in Virginia. We should be there before nightfall."
Steely gray eyes shot daggers at the pretender across the tight confines of the car. Parker radiated pure fury.
"We'll get him back," Jarod vowed. "If I have to tear that place down brick by brick, we will find him." With his free hand, Jarod gently reached out to pat Parker's arm.
She cringed away from Jarod, violently slapping at him. "Don't touch me!" Parker shrieked. As she batted at Jarod, she jostled the wound on his shoulder, making him gasp. The car swerved abruptly on the road as Jarod cringed in pain.
"You!" Parker yelled, oblivious to the car's erratic motion. "Of all people, how could YOU leave him there!"
"What could we have done, Parker?" Jarod yelled back. "Charge down the corridor and get ourselves shot?"
"You left him there alone!" Parker hollered.
"We are both wounded," Jarod exclaimed. "You were unarmed, I couldn't reload the weapon I had. We were hopelessly outnumbered. I did what I had to. We can't help Charlie if we're dead or captured."
"You did what you had to in order to survive, to save your own ass!" Parker hissed.
"Survival is what I was taught," Jarod snarled back. He sighed, trying to reign in his temper. Parker was entitled to be upset, he couldn't blame her for that one bit. But Parker's instinct was to lash out and Jarod was currently her only target. Jarod's instinct was to fight back, but if he started retaliating to Parker's barbs, things would only get worse than they already were.
"You abandoned my son in that horrible place," Parker gasped in a choked voice.
"We will get him back," Jarod said with determination.
Parker's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "He's all alone and they have him," she said hopelessly.
"We'll find him," Jarod repeated.
"Oh Jarod," Parker cried with an anguished gasp. "What will they do to my baby?"
Jarod chewed for a moment at his lower lip. "They will run tests first. For the next thirty-six hours or more, they will give him puzzle problems to test his skill level."
"What if he's not good enough?" Parker whispered. "What if he can't pass their tests?"
Jarod wordlessly cast a quick glance at Parker, his dark eyes wide and anxious. He didn't need to tell her what would happen, they both knew. If Charlie didn't have the natural pretender gift that Jarod possessed, Raines would try to instill the talent in the boy by artificial means.
"They won't hurt him," Jarod said in a low urgent voice. "They won't."
"Say it a few more times," Parker hissed icily. "You might be able to believe it. But I don't."
Parker hid her face in her hands and began to cry silently. She made no sounds other than her breathing and the occasional sniffle. Only the fragile shaking of her shoulders gave any indication of her tears. With every soundless sob, Jarod felt his heart crumble a little more.
Jarod would have preferred Parker's fury. The hopelessness of her quiet tears ripped into Jarod's heart. Choking back his own fear and grief, Jarod focused on the road. He used all his powers of concentration to keep himself from worrying about Charlie.
After what seemed an eternity, Parker raised her head to stare blindly out the window. They drove on in silence for hours. Bloodied and disheveled as they were, Jarod had to be very cautious when he stopped for fuel. Luckily he found a deserted gas station that had the pay at the pump option.
Time slid by as the ribbon of asphalt passed beneath them. At some point, Parker fell into an uneasy, fitful sleep. Jarod frowned at the road as his head began to pound with fatigue and his shoulder throbbed. Finally, just before sunset, Jarod turned the car down an old dirt road leading up to a large farmhouse.
The farm was well tended but without crops. The fields around the house and barn were filled with tall grass and wild flowers. As the car pulled to a stop beside the front porch lights could be seen shining from inside.
Turning off the ignition, Jarod heaved a sigh and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel wearily. His wounded arm hung woodenly at his side and he cradled it gently against his body. Parker yanked on the handle and threw open the door, trying to get out of the car as fast as she could. But as she stepped out, her injured leg stiffened and she gasped.
"Hey there," an anxious voice purred. "Easy now, sis."
Parker looked up and saw Ethan standing at her side, holding the door open for her. With a gentle smile, her half-brother took Parker by the arm and helped her ease from the vehicle.
"Careful," Ethan said. "That's it, lean against me."
"You beat us here," Jarod observed as he climbed out of the driver's seat.
Ethan nodded. "We flew. You said it was urgent, so Dad thought we should get here as quickly as possible."
Jarod carefully made his way around the car and walked at his brother's side as they headed toward the house.
"What's the emergency?" Ethan asked curiously. As observant as he was, it only took Ethan a moment to realize that Jarod and Miss Parker were avoiding all contact with each other.
"I would rather only have to explain it once," Jarod said with a sigh. "Let's join the others."
Once inside, Parker was quickly maneuvered to the couch. With pillows propped behind her back, Ethan gently stretched Parker's injured leg on the cushions and began to examine the wound. Jarod stood in the center of the room, cradling his arm and watching his brother's actions.
"Jarod!" an older, red-haired woman exclaimed from the doorway. "You're hurt."
Jarod shook his head sadly. "It's nothing, Mother. I'll live."
Jarod's mother rushed to his side and carefully pulled back the blood soaked rags covering his shoulder. "Charles!" she called through the house. "Bring the triage kit. We have wounded."
A moment later, Major Charles appeared carrying a case roughly the size of a tackle box. At his side was a handsome young man with dark eyes. Parker did a double take. The young man looked to be in his early twenties, his wavy brown hair had been streaked with blond dye. He had a powerful physique though his musculature was not quite as well defined as Jarod's.
The young man grinned in a cocky manner that Parker recognized all too well. "Good grief," the young man exclaimed. "Don't we look like hell?"
Jarod sighed wearily. "Not now, Jack," he groaned.
With a shrug, the young man crouched beside Ethan next to the couch. "Hello, Miss Parker," Jack said. "It is good to see you again."
Parker blinked at him. "Look at you," she said softly. "All grown up."
Jack grinned playfully causing Parker to feel strangely disconnected. She knew that this boy was the genetic replication of Jarod. But despite the incredible similarities between the two, the visible differences between Jack and his twin were numerous. They were not mirror images of one another. The age difference and the scar along Jarod's jaw were the most obvious discrepancies but there were others. Jack seemed softer somehow, less angular in his features.
For the next several minutes, Jarod's family tended their wounded. Emily fetched water from the kitchen and clean clothes from another room.
Glancing furtively from Jarod to Miss Parker, Margaret asked cautiously, "What about the little boy?"
Straightening in his chair, Jarod said bluntly, "The Centre has him."
Jarod's parents both gasped.
"But we will get him back," Jarod added firmly.
"We wouldn't have to get him back if you hadn't left him behind," Parker hissed.
Jarod flinched as though she had struck him.
"Miss Parker," Margaret scolded gently. "Blaming Jarod won't help ease your pain." Jarod's mother crossed the room and perched on the cushions of the couch. "You'll need each other's strength now more than ever. Trust me, I know."
"You know nothing," Parker snarled.
"I know how you feel," Margaret said softly. "You've lost your child and now you are hurting like I was so many years ago."
"No," Parker growled. "It isn't the same. My son isn't lost. I know EXACTLY where he is." She gasped as agony ripped through her heart. "I know exactly what they are going to do to him."
Margaret cast a wary glance across the room at Jarod. The pretender looked away, unable to meet his mother's gaze. Parker saw the silent exchange and interpreted it with flawless accuracy.
"He's never told you," Parker laughed cruelly. "He was missing for thirty years and you have no idea what happened to him during that time. Shall I tell you, Margaret? Do you want to know how they treated him?"
"Parker," Jarod whispered desperately. "What purpose would it serve?"
Parker went on as though the pretender hadn't spoken. "Shall I tell you about the injections, the experimentation, the torture?" her voice began to rise. Whether it was with anger or hysteria, no one could tell. "Shall I tell you about the Christmas I found him cowering under his cot? His wrists were torn and scorched where manacles had circled his flesh. They had chained him up and then heated the metal until it blistered his skin. He was shivering in shock and pain when I found him. He was twelve years old."
Margaret stared at Parker, her eyes widened in horror with each word.
Jarod glanced up at Parker miserably, "You gave me candy," he remembered. "Orange flavored Pez from a Santa shaped dispenser."
"Who's going to be there to give Charlie candy?" Parker asked hopelessly.
The Major stepped to his wife's side and laid a calming hand on her shoulder. Jarod's mother was visibly shaken by what she had just learned.
"Together we will bring him home," Major Charles said forcefully.
Parker glared at him with a frightening, ice-queen look. "You couldn't rescue your own son," she bit menacingly. "Why should I trust you with mine?"
"You frigid bitch," Emily exclaimed harshly. "How dare you!"
Parker half rose from her seat as Ethan tried to keep her still. Margaret jumped from the couch as though burnt by a flame. Turning toward her husband, Jarod's mother rushed into the major's protective embrace.
"Please STOP!" Jarod wailed. His body seemed to collapse as Jarod hugged himself and curled into a ball. This was too much. Kidnappings had always preyed viciously on the most fragile point of Jarod's psyche. The abduction of his own son and Jarod's inability to protect the boy pushed the pretender to the very edge. The slender thread of control Jarod had on his emotions began to snap, cascading rapidly into a full meltdown.
Shivering uncontrollably, Jarod huddled against the easy chair in which he sat. "I'm sorry," he began to murmur as tears ran down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Emily stroked one hand across Jarod's brow in a soothing motion. But the pretender's reaction was a frightened scream as he flailed away from his sister. Jarod's eyes glazed over and a tortured moan escaped his lips.
"Jarod?" Emily cried moving toward him again.
"Don't touch him!" Jack ordered. Scrambling across the room, the young man pulled his sister away.
"But," she began.
"Do you want him go ballistic on us?" Jack asked in a hard tone. "He could end up catatonic if we're not careful. Give him a minute."
The family stood around helplessly for several minutes as Jarod wept and rocked his body miserably. Finally, Jack crouched in front of his older twin, carefully leaving several inches of space between them.
"Jarod," Jack called in a firm voice. "Pull it together bro. This isn't going to help that little boy."
Parker, tears cascading down her cheeks, felt an odd sensation envelop her. It was so strange, watching the two not quite identical men interact. Jarod was in anguish and Parker had ripped into him even more. Her Centre training had served her well. Of all people, Parker knew how badly Jarod would react to all this. Yet she had still kicked the pretender while he was down. In her own pain, she had succeeded in increasing his.
"Jarod," Jack called a second time. "Charlie needs you. We have work to do."
Jarod's shuddering began to ease. His agonized sobs grew quieter.
"That's it," Jack said. "Get a grip, big brother. Charlie needs his daddy."
Jarod sniffled as he struggled to regain his composure. Heaving deep, cleansing breaths, Jarod fought for control over his emotions. Raising his head, Jarod cast his brother a look of woe. "Jack?" he asked meekly.
With a reassuring smile Jack replied. "Yea, Jarod. It's me." Moving slowly so as not to spook the pretender, Jack reached out and patted Jarod on the knee. "Come on back to us, bro. We can't do this without you."
Nodding wordlessly, Jarod straightened and took several more deep inhalations. Clamping down tightly on his fear and pain, Jarod forced his tumult aside, burying it deep within.
"That's better," Jack purred. Jack clasped one hand around the back of Jarod's neck, giving his big brother a rough hug of sorts. "Gotta stay cool, bro. Frosty like a snowman."
Scrubbing one forearm across his face, Jarod sniffled and wiped away the last of his tears. "I'm okay, " Jarod said steadily. "Thanks, Jack."
"You were overdue for a neurotic episode anyway," Jack teased with a grin. With a playful slap on the back of Jarod's head, Jack stood. "At least you didn't punch me this time."
Jarod rose from the chair and tested the stiffness of his wounded shoulder. "You didn't deserve to be punched this time," he said with a sad smile.
"Here," Emily said gently as she handed Jarod a glass of water.
"Thanks," Jarod took the glass and gulped down the contents noisily. "Ethan, I need a lap top," Jarod said between swallows.
With a brief nod Ethan said, "I brought three." He left the room to fetch the computers.
"What can I do, Jarod?" his mother asked.
Jarod glanced questioningly at Miss Parker. "Coffee?" He asked.
Parker nodded. Margaret scurried off to the kitchen with Emily in tow.
Standing beside the couch, Jarod looked down at Parker and asked, "Do you need anything else?"
Parker shook her head. The frightened, broken soul who had been bitterly weeping a few minutes ago was completely gone. In his place was this calm, confident pretender, ready for anything. Parker gained a new appreciation for this man. She suddenly realized that Jarod had never truly put his childhood trauma behind him. He simply chose to ignore it, to move past the horrors The Centre had inflicted on him. But in failing to deal with those scars, Jarod had never really healed. As a result, the old wounds surfaced on occasion causing the pain to ooze from him like an infection.
The Centre had left its mark on them both. Neither would ever be able to forget their past.
Jarod began to turn away.
"Jarod?" Parker stopped him with a word. "I'm sorry."
Jarod kept his back to her as he sighed. "So am I, Miss Parker. We have a real talent for ripping into one another whenever The Centre starts screwing with us. Old habits die hard."
"It wasn't your fault," Parker whispered. "You did what you had to. I know that."
Jarod nodded but said nothing.
"Jarod," she said with soft urging. "Look at me."
As though gathering his courage, Jarod faltered for a moment before turning to face Parker.
"Promise me that we'll get him back," she whispered.
"I swear it," Jarod vowed. Whirling briskly on his heel, Jarod stormed after Ethan and left room.
--
The waiting was hard.
Jarod had never felt this type of impatience before. Waiting had been such an integral part of his life that patience had become second nature to him. More than one simulation had succeeded simply because Jarod had learned to wait for the results.
But this was so very different. Jarod could feel every minute ticking by as though some cataclysmic count down was running in his head. Each hour brought more terrible images to Jarod's imagination. Yet despite his anxiety, there was nothing left to do but wait.
Jarod had started his campaign to rescue his son by emailing Angelo. The only connection Jarod had left in The Centre, Angelo was the only way of learning about the current security setup. Jarod had been out of contact for too long. He could not expect things to be the same as they were four years ago. And with a little luck, Angelo would be able to pinpoint Charlie's location, making the rescue effort that much easier.
Ethan and Jack had left the farm for several hours during the night. When they had returned shortly after midnight, they had come equipped with a small arsenal. Jarod didn't know where his brothers had found so many weapons and frankly he didn't care. He was now well armed and more than willing to use deadly force to get his son back.
Jarod had accessed some old files he had stored on a remote server some years ago. There he retrieved copies of The Centre's blue prints. The possibility did exist that major renovations had changed the basic layout of the compound in the last few years. But that was a variable they would have to be prepared for. The plan Jarod devised needed to be flexible enough to handle all the unknowns in this equation.
Once Angelo returned his email, Jarod would know more. Then they would be able to move. So now, the pretender waited to hear from his old friend.
Parker had finally fallen into a fitful sleep just before dawn. Stress and exhaustion had finally overcome her concern for her child. Jarod had stood in the dark room for a long time and watched her sleep. Parker's anger had shifted away from Jarod since they had arrived. Her fury now focused entirely on the people who had taken her son.
As they had worked and plotted together during the night, Parker had shown Jarod her repentance again and again. Gentle random touches and the occasional caress, told Jarod that she did not really blame him for Charlie's abduction. Her rage had been an instinctive reaction to the situation.
When Parker had finally turned toward Jarod and allowed him to embrace her, the pretender had felt as though heaven itself was offering him absolution. She had cried in his arms, drenching his shirt with her desperate tears. Jarod tried to soothe her with promises as she wept, vowing again and again that Charlie would be back. Jarod had held her until she finally drifted to sleep.
Jarod had watched over her for a time, marveling at her beauty. Parker had always been the standard by which he measured every woman he'd ever met. She was no less incredible to him now that she had been when he was a boy. Gazing at her through the dark, Jarod knew that he would do anything for this woman and her child. The fact that Charlie was Jarod's own son had little to do with the pretender's devotion to the boy. Parker cherished the little tyke therefore Jarod would give his life to bring the boy back to her.
As sunlight began to ease over the horizon, Jarod had left the room to check his email. There had been no reply from Angelo. Frustrated and irritable, Jarod had quietly stepped outside and sat on the porch stairs to watch the dawn. The pretender was amazed at how normal everything seemed. The sun rose, the birds sang, fluffy clouds blew across a bright blue sky. The world went on, oblivious to the plight of a lost little boy and the family who missed him so desperately.
The thirty-six hour mark came and went. Jarod tried to imagine who had been assigned to Charlie's case as project coordinator. Was there anyone left at The Centre who possessed the subtle kindness that Sydney had shown him as a boy? Knowing that Sydney had retired a couple of years ago dashed Jarod's hopes that the psychiatrist could help this time.
The morning sun was well into the sky when Jarod heard a quiet sound behind him. The screen door opened slowly and cautious footsteps approached.
"Any word from Angelo?" Parker asked softly.
Jarod glanced at the laptop, open and waiting to one side. "Nothing," he answered.
Parker sat on the step beside him, carefully favoring her sore leg. "Jarod," she began. "What if Angelo isn't there? What if he's gone? What if they've finally killed him?"
Jarod shook his head sternly. "No," he said firmly. "I won't believe that. Angelo has survived all this time, I won't believe that he has struggled so long, only to fail."
They fell silent, staring out over the sun drenched meadows. The farmhouse was in a deeply rural area. The long gravel driveway led only to a dirt road. The occasional tractor or sturdy pickup truck rumbled passed. Big eighteen-wheelers loaded with livestock zoomed by at long intervals.
"What will we do if Angelo doesn't contact us?" Parker asked finally.
"He will," Jarod argued.
Parker sighed. "You're putting a lot of faith in that mush-headed cretin," she said warily.
Jarod frowned. "Angelo is a lot saner that anyone gives him credit for," he protested. "He's always played the idiot for them. The more that The Centre underestimated him, the better his advantage. Many times, I've relied on Angelo and he has never let me down. Never."
"Then why won't he answer?" Parker asked desperately.
"I don't know," Jarod whispered back. Parker put her forehead against Jarod's good shoulder and snuggled against him. Greedily wanting to be comforted in return, Jarod put an arm around Parker and held her close.
They sat there, clinging to each other, drawing strength from one another.
Jarod stiffened when he noticed a grungy, battered old truck on the dirt road. The truck didn't roar by like all the others had. Instead this one screeched its brakes and wheezed to a halt at the end of the long gravel driveway. The truck idled there for a full minute as two figures hopped to the ground from the cargo area.
With a chugging cough and a beep of the horn, the truck began moving again, spitting dust from the road as it went.
Jarod sat in stunned amazement as he watched two people wave the truck away and begin the long walk up the driveway. Parker gasped beside him and staggered to her feet. From this distance, it wasn't clear who was approaching but it was obviously a man with wild, tangled hair. He held the hand of a little boy who was happily bouncing up and down on both feet as the pair made their way toward the house.
"CHARLIE!" Parker screamed as she hobbled across the yard.
The child left his companion behind and began running toward the house. "Mommy!"
Jarod was not aware that he had actually left the porch. He raced down the driveway and scooped the little boy into his arms and squeezed him close. Parker reached them a moment later and hauled Charlie against her bosom as she burst into happy tears.
"Momma," Charlie cried as he hugged his mother hard. "I missed you!"
Parker laughed. "I missed you too baby. I was so worried."
"I rode on a train!" Charlie grinned. "Angelo and I had french fries for breakfast. He never had french fries before." Charlie babbled excitedly.
Jarod, blinded by tears of sheer joy, turned toward the odd, wild-haired man as he approached. "Angelo," Jarod gasped in a choked voice. "I don't understand. How did you? Why, after all this time?" The pretender shook his head, unable to articulate his astonishment.
Angelo smiled in that strange, crooked way of his. "It was time to go home," he said.
Jarod laughed. "How can I ever thank you, my old friend?"
"French fries?" Angelo asked hopefully.
Parker and Jarod burst into laughter of such relief that it bordered on hysteria.
"Anything you want, Angelo," Jarod managed to say. "Anything at all."
