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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 1: Blood
By Swikstr
Disclaimer: Nope. I don’t own ‘em. I wish I did, but that’s the breaks. Jarod, Miss Parker, Sydney, Broots and a cast of thousands belong to Craig Van Sickle and Steven Long Mitchell, Pretender Productions and the swell folks at NBC. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no infringement is intended.
*********
The Centre, Blue Cove, DE
Miss Parker sat in her office, her fingers tapping impatiently on top of the paperwork on her desk. The file could not give her any more information than she had already guessed. They had missed Jarod again in Santa Fe. She wondered how her father was taking the news. It had been two months since she'd seen or talked to him. She thought back to their last confrontation; how shocked she had been when the sweepers came in to remove him from his office. She sighed. *Removed* was the right word. She'd had no contact since then. These days she was only able to leave messages, never knowing when or if she would get a reply. For a fleeting moment she wondered if Jarod's continued elusiveness had anything to do with her father's disappearance. Mentally she shook her head. It did not seem logical.
Her thoughts drifted back to Santa Fe. They had been 12 hours too late. Alone in her office, she could finally allow herself to feel relief at Jarod's escape. She'd had the same experience before; Miami, the Keys, Delphi Shores, and ultimately Boston. Especially Boston. Briefly, she remembered her elation at watching Raines go up in smoke. Had they hesitated, Jarod almost certainly would have been killed; a victim of Raines' own bullet. Miss Parker smiled at the thought, amazed that she no longer bothered to question those feelings.
The time in Miami, she had felt confused and frustrated about missing the shot letting Jarod get away. But after some reflection, she concluded that it was the Centre's own fault. Raines and her father knew about the deep bond that had been forged between her and Jarod when they were children. She knew that very focus was what they had counted on when she was pulled from Corporate to lead this fishing expedition. Her father assumed that her sometimes, selfish nature would convert that link into an insatiable desire to get Jarod back to the Centre, back to her.
And for the most part he had been right, until the time came to bite the bullet and she let him escape. More than once now, she mused. Miss Parker knew she would never admit weakness to anyone, even herself. But sometimes she couldn't help thinking...
She was startled by a knock at the door.
"What?" She snapped, not wanting to be disturbed.
Willie the sweeper walked in and stood before her desk.
"Miss Parker, I have a directive from the Tower to escort you to SL 5 for a debriefing."
"A debriefing for what?" She asked sharply.
"Ma'am, my directive states only that I am to escort you -- immediately."
She reached for the phone, only to pull back, mentally cursing herself. Her father was no longer available to answer her questions. She blew out of the office, startling Willie as he scrambled to catch up with her.
*********
Miss Parker listened to the sound of her heels clicking along the corridor as she followed Willie. God, she needed a cigarette. She couldn't help wondering what this was all about. Without access to her father, she was beginning to feel lost, which made her temper even more brittle than usual. They turned the corner and she noticed that Sydney and Broots were already waiting outside one of the interrogation room doors. "Together again," she thought.
Willie indicated that she have a seat, and departed abruptly, footsteps echoing in retreat along the otherwise silent hallway.
"All right you two," said Miss Parker, "just what the hell is *this* all about now?"
"Actually," said Sydney in his usual reserved way, "I was hoping you would enlighten me."
Miss Parker glanced over at Broots, noticing the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
"Well??" She asked him.
"Look," he said, "I talked to my friend in cleanup. He tells me that the Tower is dissatisfied with our efforts to apprehend Jarod. They may have assigned a cleaner to deal with the problem."
"There isn't any *problem*," Miss Parker snapped, "all we need is a little more time and I'll get him back in here."
"Evidently, the Tower doesn't see your point of view," remarked Sydney dryly. "But if what Mr. Broots says is true, I fear that will compel Jarod to break all contact with us. He knows what cleanup is capable of. I doubt he'll want to put himself, and others, at risk."
"Well isn't that just ducky?" She was bitter. "They just made the job ten times harder."
Sydney and Broots were saved from replying when the door opened across the corridor. A sweeper motioned for Broots to enter. As he scurried into the room, Miss Parker looked over at Sydney.
"Do you think what he said is true?" She asked in a low voice.
"It is quite possible," he answered.
"I know my father would never authorize this," she said sharply.
"Perhaps," Sydney responded. "But evidently he is not available to make that decision."
For once, she could think of no reply.
Sydney was the next to enter the interview room, and Miss Parker waited with growing impatience. She was both angry and frustrated at the possibility that a cleaner waited on the other side of the door to question *her*. A tiny seed of
worry had also begun to take root -- worry for herself but mostly for Jarod. Cleaners were a different breed. The Centre only used them when there were no other options. Finally the door opened and she was motioned inside.
Miss Parker sat at the small table, forming her expression into the most aloof and arrogant she was capable of. What ever else happened, she knew she must not appear weak in this interview. A tall, blonde woman rose from her chair across the room and walked toward the table. Their eyes met.
"Miss Parker," the blonde said with an amused and condescending British accent. "I am Brigitte, from cleanup."
"Of course you are," Miss Parker drawled in reply.
"I have been assigned by the Tower to aid in the apprehension of the pretender, Jarod," the blonde continued mockingly, "I know that you will do everything in your power to assist me."
"Of course, if that's what the Tower wants," replied Miss Parker coolly, though her heart was racing. The blonde had the look of a barracuda. "However, I think we were doing just fine without your *help*."
"Well, I am glad to see that we can dispense with any pleasantries." Brigitte was clearly amused. "What I *would* like to talk about is your persistent failure to bring Jarod in."
"There's nothing more to say beyond what you can read for yourself in the reports," Parker replied impatiently.
"Ah yes, the *reports* luv," said Brigitte silkily, "Notably Miami, South Florida, The Dragon House, and Boston. Each time you had Jarod clearly in your sights as it were. Each time he escaped. Now why is that I wonder?"
Miss Parker refused to flinch. She knew better than to show any reaction. Even lighting a cigarette could be dangerous.
"I must say," Brigitte continued, "it astounds me that someone with your record at the Centre should so often be faced with such failures." "You knew Jarod as a child, did you not?" She asked suddenly.
Miss Parker steeled herself, "If you didn't already know that, you wouldn't be asking the question."
"Of course luv," Brigitte laughed, "Interesting though, don't you think? You knew him quite well once and now, despite your assurances to the contrary, you have repeatedly failed to bring him in."
"Just what are you trying to imply?" Asked Miss Parker, her voice rising.
"I'm merely wondering at what price you might disavow your allegiance," said Brigitte, watching her closely. "A *kiss* perhaps?"
Miss Parker's temper snapped. She wondered how this cleaner knew. No matter what, it would be better to remain on the offensive. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but nobody questions my loyalty to the Centre, *or* my record when it comes to getting the job done."
Their eyes locked, neither refusing to back down. Seconds ticked away. A knock at the door broke the silence. Willie walked in and spoke into Brigitte's ear. She glanced briefly at the camera positioned above their heads and nodded toward it.
"You are free to go Miss Parker," she said. "We'll try to notify you if our efforts overlap into your own."
"I'm sure." Miss Parker rose from her seat, fighting the urge to demand answers from this woman. It was clear that some upper-level decision had been made that was maddeningly beyond her control. If her father was here...but he wasn't. She glanced back at Brigitte as she left the cell, and the predatory look in the other woman's eyes made her strangely uneasy. She had to find Sydney.
*********
Brigitte entered the plush office on the upper level of the Centre, leaving her sweeper escort behind.
"You wanted the interview cut short Mr. Lyle?" She asked the man sitting behind his desk in the shadows.
"You would have gained nothing by further questions," the man replied. "And we have no time for guessing games."
"I would not believe that bluebird act for a moment," Brigitte said warningly.
"Oh, not to worry," said Lyle softly, "with you on the job I have no doubt that Miss Parker will be offered the opportunity to prove her loyalty soon enough."
'I'll just be getting to it then." She turned and quietly left the room. Lyle smiled softly at her confidence and went back to work.
*********
Miss Parker stalked into Broots' work area, not surprised to see Sydney there with him.
"We're screwed Miss Parker." As usual, Broots was clearly spooked.
"Don't be so melodramatic," she snapped, "we'll just have to find Jarod first."
Sydney looked at her with a guarded expression. "With everything we've been through, I know *I* have never wanted to see Jarod harmed," he said slowly. "The chances of that happening now seem rather slim."
"Syd," said Miss Parker, "my father will be here soon and we can put this foolishness behind us and bring Jarod in once and for all."
"If you say so Miss Parker," Sydney replied, his voice sounding doubtful.
"Well? What are you both waiting for? Christmas?" She ground out. "Let's get to work."
*********
The Centre
Two weeks later
Miss Parker strode up to Broots' work area, finding it empty. "First thing in the morning and he's already goofing off," she fumed. In fact, as she surveyed the floor, none of the techno-dweebs seemed to be around. Frowning, she headed for Sydney's office. This stress was going to give her ulcer a companion soon. Two weeks had passed, and there were still no new leads in the hunt for Jarod.
As she stormed down the hallway, even in her current state of distraction, Miss Parker began to notice odd behavior in the other employees. Everyone seemed to be looking at her covertly, discussing something in hushed voices. Reaching Syd's office, she pushed through the door without knocking. She was shocked to see him sitting behind his desk with a half-full bottle of scotch. She closed the door quietly. Clearly, something had happened.
"Sit down Miss Parker," he invited her wearily. "Have a drink."
"Syd, in case you haven't noticed, it's seven a.m.," she said, advancing on his desk.
"The brought Jarod in last night," he said abruptly.
She stopped short. A jumble of thoughts raced through her head. She looked up and noticed that Sydney was watching her carefully. Quickly, she got hold of her feelings, settling an indifferent expression on her face.
"Well, I'm sure the Tower is very pleased. Have you heard from my father?"
"No," Sydney replied shortly. She waited, but he remained silent.
Finally, she gave in. "How did they get him?"
"Apparently, they used the one inducement which Jarod would find irresistible," said Sydney. "His family." "From what I understand," he continued, "Brigitte orchestrated some type of repeat of the Boston contact. Only instead of meeting
his family, Jarod walked into an alley filled with her cleanup crew. His contact, Harriet Tashman, tried to warn him it was a trap, so they killed her." Sydney's voice was bleak. He gazed at the bottle on his desk.
"My god," Miss Parker whispered, momentarily forgetting herself. "Was he injured?"
He was saved from answering by the sound of a clipped British accent. "Well Miss Parker," the voice drawled, "I didn't know you cared."
She snapped her head around to see Brigitte standing in the doorway, flanked by sweepers, a mocking expression on her face. "I've come to collect you and Dr. Green."
Miss Parker rose slowly, fighting to disguise her hatred. Sydney came around the desk to stand at her side. In spite of herself, she felt relief at his support.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Asked Brigitte, an edge of steel creeping into her voice. "It's such a beautiful day, why waste it? Let's get down to SL 20 please, boys and girls. And I do mean *now*."
They left the office without another word.
*********
Jarod looked up as Sydney and Miss Parker entered the room, along with Brigitte and her enforcers. Broots was already standing awkwardly near the door.
"Sydney, Miss Parker, long time no see," his voice was flat.
Miss Parker looked at him carefully. She noticed he was handcuffed to the chair. Physically, he seemed none the worse for wear from his encounter, which was a
miracle considering it had been a cleanup team that brought him in. His eyes however, told a much different story. She could tell the ordeal had taken its toll on him.
"Well Jarod," said Brigitte. "Happy to be home again? We've all missed you so, here at the Centre."
"Really," Jarod shot back. "I never would have guessed."
"Look, just what the hell is going on," Miss Parker demanded. "I want to know why you've found it necessary to drag us all down here. He should be talking to
debriefing right now."
"Jarod has refused to talk to anyone but you three." Brigitte slowly glided around the chair. "Isn't that so Jarod?" She said, stopping before him.
"I won't cooperate with the Centre in any way," Jarod said flatly. "I thought I made that point clear."
"That's really too bad luv," Brigitte said silkily. "Is there nothing we can do to persuade you?" She reached for the 9mm. pistol that lay on a nearby table.
"I'd rather die first."
"Very well," replied Brigitte, as Sydney began to move forward in protest. "Don't say a word Dr. Green," she ordered. "We have recovered the DSA's and our pretender. In his present state of mind, he is clearly no longer of any use to us."
"All right, let's cut the bull," snapped Miss Parker. "We're not doing anything here without my father's authorization." She watched Brigitte closely, praying the ploy would be successful. They couldn't really be considering eliminating Jarod, could they?
"My dear Miss Parker," Brigitte replied smoothly, "I already have the *Tower's* authorization to terminate the pretender." She held out a piece of paper.
Sydney grabbed it and began reading quickly. He looked up and met Miss Parker's eyes. She snatched the authorization from him and began to read, even though the shock and resignation on his face told her what she needed to know.
She was startled when Brigitte slid up to her and pressed the automatic into her hand. "Now, Miss Parker," she said smoothly, "when last we spoke, you talked of loyalty. To the Centre specifically." Brigitte smiled, "What better way to show us, than by doing the deed yourself."
"This is ridiculous," Miss Parker replied, her voice rising.
"You can't be serious," Sydney spoke up. Alarm was evident in his voice.
"It isn't a request luv," Brigitte said softly, indicating the authorization paper.
Jarod watched their exchange in silence. He had always thought that Sydney would be able to save him. After all, he had protected Jarod from the Centre's wrath many times in the past. But clearly, that was no longer possible. Part of him felt that things would be better this way. Being back in the Centre, under restraint, was worse that he could ever have imagined. But what made it more awful was that now Miss Parker would sacrifice the last of her remaining soul to do the Tower's bidding. Jarod had always wondered what her choice would be if it came down to the Centre or him. In the last year he had almost convinced himself that she was still the person he had once known. For an instant he thought of the time when her mother was shot. The Miss Parker he had known evidently died in that elevator with Catherine. He had been a fool to think she still remembered. Realizing that was like a physical pain that hurt more than anything he had ever experienced. Silently, he waited.
Miss Parker stepped up to the chair where Jarod was restrained. The gun felt slippery in her hand. "How could she do this?" She wondered. "Why would the Centre want this?" For an instant, she thought back to the early days, when their search for Jarod had just begun. Corporate's accounting had been one of the first places she visited. There, she had seen for herself the revenue that Jarod's work generated. With a sudden flash of intuition, she became certain that there was no way the Tower would give up a golden goose that easily. The gun could not be loaded. Miss Parker fought hard to keep that awareness to herself. She must not betray her feelings to Sydney or to Jarod. Brigitte clearly expected her to think he must be terminated. Slowly, impassively, she raised the gun.
Their eyes met. She had to steel herself against the pain and betrayal she saw in his. Jarod stared at her hardened features, noting that her eyes were blank. He cursed himself for a fool. Even now, she looked beautiful to him. He heard the sound from far away as she cocked the pistol.
"Jarod, this is your last chance," she said.
He broke eye contact. "Just do it," was all he replied.
She heard Sydney and Broots gasp as she pulled the trigger. Jarod flinched at the click of the hammer. In the small room, the sound seemed almost as loud as if she'd fired an actual bullet.
Miss Parker felt light-headed in the aftermath. Never had she taken so huge a gamble. Mentally, she fought for control. She had to see this through first. Once she got away from the cleaners, she could decide what would have to be done.
Brigitte had trouble containing her surprise. "Well luv, it looks as though I underestimated you," she said, holding out her hand for the gun.
"You sound disappointed." Miss Parker now was icy cold. "If this thing were loaded, I'd use it on you right now. Who gave you *authorization* to humiliate me this way?"
"Look, I follow my orders. All you need to know is that the authorization existed," Brigitte replied smoothly, "Thanks loads, we'll take it from here now." Turning, she dismissed Sydney and Broots as well.
"No matter what else happens, be assured, I *will* make you pay for this," Miss Parker bit out. "Sydney, Broots, let's go."
Sydney made as if to stay, staring at Jarod's bent head, regret coloring his expression. However, Brigitte gave a brief signal to the sweepers, and they made sure he knew the way to the door. He stared once more at Jarod, then turned and followed Broots and Miss Parker.
*********
Later that evening, Brigitte stepped quietly into Mr. Lyle's office.
"I've brought you the transcripts of the preliminary debriefings," she said softly.
"All under the influence, I presume," he said, alluding to the drugs they were using.
"We had no other choice," she replied. "And we will continue to have no other option until the family is found."
"You are continuing to work on that, I trust?"
"Of course," she answered. "It is going to be a bit difficult, though. They have a lot more experience in hiding from you than Jarod did."
"I understand," Lyle replied. "Just get it done."
Brigitte merely nodded and began to leave the office. "Oh one last thing," she hesitated. "Miss Parker passed her *test* with flying colours."
Lyle's voice took on a cynical note, "Of course, I never doubted her for a moment."
As Brigitte departed, he spoke into the intercom on his desk, "Contact Mr. Parker
please..."
*********
The Centre
Later the following night
Miss Parker slipped into Sydney's office quietly. "Why am I not surprised to see you still here so late?"
"I was just thinking about when Jarod first came to the Centre," he answered slowly. "I should have listened to Jacob all those years ago. Maybe then I wouldn't find myself in this predicament."
"What predicament is that?" She asked.
"Sitting here, powerless to help a young man I care for and respect. I practically raised the two of you." Sydney looked directly at her. "What I'm really wondering is how I can still care about a young woman who showed so little regard for that man yesterday. He would not have done the same to you."
She returned his gaze unflinchingly. "Syd, I'm only going to say this one time, so you better listen carefully. I knew that gun wasn't loaded." He made as if to interrupt. "I don't have time to go into the reasons why I knew," she said softly, "but I've made a decision, and I think in time you'll see that I did the right thing." He looked at her questioningly, but she refused to give in to his curiosity. "Have you talked to Jarod since...?" Her voice trailed off.
"No," he responded, "they won't allow me any access to the debriefing. I've had Broots make some discreet inquiries though. It's my understanding that he was in thrall to the drugs for quite some time."
"Do you think he might be lucid now?" She asked intently. That was important.
"Probably." Sydney answered, "They had to give his system a break so he could eat and sleep. He's of no use to them if he can't function physically."
Miss Parker sat in silence, contemplating. The thought of what Jarod must be going through hurt her more than she expected. She had convinced herself that what she was about to do was not for personal reasons. It was about the memory of her mother, revenge against Brigitte, getting back at the Centre...But now, she acknowledged to herself that her heart was more involved than she wanted to admit. She would set Jarod free because she loved him. There it was -- simple. However, persuading him to leave; that all of this was not an elaborate trap, was another matter. She didn't think it would be wise to enlighten him about her own personal discovery. He probably wouldn't believe her anyway.
"Miss Parker?" Sydney asked, breaking into her reverie.
"Syd, I need you and Broots to run the same scam with security that we used with Kyle," she said. "I'm going to speak with Jarod." When he looked as though he
would ask her more questions, she cut him off, "We don't have time. *Please*," she added.
Together, they located Broots. Miss Parker again explained what she needed. Surprisingly, he acquiesced without asking any questions. Jarod's capture and the scene with the gun had evidently affected him too.
The three of them descended to SL 20. Once again they used distractractions to divert the attention of the sweepers. Finally, she hesitated before the door to Jarod's cell. Taking a deep breath, she entered.
*********
At first, she thought he must be asleep on the narrow cot. Then, he turned his face toward her and slowly sat up. Her heart broke at the sight of the dark smudges under his eyes and the deep purple marks on his arms where they had injected the truth serums. He spoke and snapped her back to attention.
"Get out." His voice was like a whip.
She fought down her immediate, unconscious reaction to bark back at him. After all, he was certainly in no position to give orders.
"Jarod, I need to talk to you," she began with as much restraint as she could muster, "you don't understand what happened in here yesterday."
"What I understand is that you're a cold-hearted, mercenary, drone," he sneered, "a pawn for this place and it's corrupt objectives. It makes me sick, the way you let them use you..."
She flew at him before he could finish. His head snapped back with the force of the slap as her hand made contact with his face.
"You bastard." She backed off.
He turned back to her slowly, raising a finger to his lip. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He stared at her mockingly. "Nice."
"If you had any idea the chances I've taken, the danger I've put myself into for you..." She was shaking with rage.
He leaned back against the wall, suddenly uncertain. Without warning she moved toward him again. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for another blow when he felt her mouth capture his. His eyes widened in amazement. "This can't be
happening," he thought. It had to be another drug-induced fantasy designed to trap him. But no, she was real, and so was the kiss. Her hand slowly curved up the side of his face, her fingers stroking the back of his head. The headache that he had been suffering through from the after-effects of drugs and stress began to mercifully abate. He sank into the kiss, wanting to escape from the nightmare of the last 48 hours. He willed himself not to think as his hands gripped her waist and she settled next to him on the cot.
Miss Parker refused to second-guess herself as she kissed Jarod. Ever since the hunt had begun, she had dreamed of this moment. It was much different from the first time. The desperation was there, but they were more grown up now, and the kiss was deeper, more intimate. Her feelings overwhelmed her and tears spilled over her lashes onto her cheeks.
Jarod felt the tears on her cheeks and pulled back to look at her. Their eyes met: his puzzled, hers tormented.
The retreat brought her back to sanity. She could taste blood on her tongue. Jarod's blood. She knew his blood would be on her hands if she didn't have the courage to go through with what came next. Even if they didn't kill him, his spirit would die from being locked up here.
"Listen to me," she whispered, almost pleadingly. "I knew that gun wasn't loaded when I pulled the trigger."
She watched him, waiting for his response. When he gave none, she accused, "You knew didn't you?"
"Yes." He looked at her. "But I didn't know if *you* knew. It was the only thing I wasn't sure of."
"Did you know they were questioning my allegiance to the Centre," she asked bitterly. "Because of all those times I let you go?".
"You didn't always 'let me go,'" he corrected her, "I didn't realize my escapes were causing you a problem here."
"Some problem," she ground out, "a cleaner after my head on a plate." He began to reply but she cut him off, "Shut up and listen: I came here to let you out." She could see he didn't believe her. "Do you really think I would lie to you after all this?"
He stayed still, his expression unchanging. Perhaps Brigitte wanted to use an attempted escape as an excuse to eliminate him. He knew the Tower didn't want him dead yet, but cleaners were bloodthirsty and unpredictable animals. They liked to kill. He couldn't be sure what kind of hold she had on Miss Parker.
"Look Jarod," she said, staring into his eyes. "You trust total strangers, it's part of who you are. Now you have to trust me, like you did when we were kids. I've never forgotten that time."
"Neither have I," he whispered, remembering.
She couldn't help herself; she leaned in to kiss him again. For a while it was as if time stood still. But then she remembered the pain she felt upon entering the cell and seeing his condition. It reminded her that they were wasting precious minutes. She pulled back again.
"I'm going to walk out of here," she said, hastily unlocking the shackles that bound him to the bed. "Try the door when I've gone, it won't be locked anymore." She rose as he watched her in silence. "I don't know how you got out the last time, but I suggest you put your skills to good use again."
He stood slowly, facing her. "You could come with me."
She felt the bittersweet pain of longing and regret. He wanted her. But she knew it couldn't happen. Not now. She had often wondered at the strength and courage he must have had to leave here in the first place. She also knew that she wasn't that strong herself yet. She hated the Centre, but it was like a dysfunctional parent. She depended on the security it gave her. And there were still many questions left unanswered.
"We both know I can't do that," she said.
"But you could do that," he pressed her.
"No Jarod," she answered. "You have your own calling, your own mission. It's important that you get back outside. People need you out there. Your family needs you."
"What about you?" He asked, fear in his voice. Considering what she had just told him, he knew her position would be even more precarious when he escaped.
"Jarod, I *am* still capable of taking care of myself," she said in the sharp voice he had become accustomed to. Oddly, it reassured him. "Besides, I have some loose ends to take care of here: Mother's death, my father's disappearance," she trailed off. He was looking at her mouth. Her knees began to feel weak. "I have to go now," she said, more shakily than she intended.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice firm. "If you ever need *anything*, find Angelo. He'll know how to contact me. The keyword is CJ."
Her heart swelled. He trusted her. He must have, to give her that kind of information. "I'll try to have Broots get you a message, from time to time," she said softly. "One day," she continued, "once I get the answers I need, I'll be ready to leave this place. Then, I *will* find you." She saw him smile at the memory her words provoked. She moved toward the door.
He caught her wrist and drew her in close, one last time. She savored his kiss, regret tightening in her breast as she pulled away.
"Take care of that lip," she said as she opened the door. She turned to him, their eyes locked, and then she walked out the door, closing it quietly behind her.
Miss Parker said nothing to Sydney or Broots once they were safely back up from SL 20. She could feel Sydney's scrutinizing gaze but chose not to respond to it. She was afraid if she said something she would break down and give herself away, and god only knew who might be monitoring them. They stopped at the door to Syd's office. She looked at him and Broots. "Thank you," she said quietly, then turned and walked away.
*********
Epilogue
Sydney’s Office at the Centre
The following day
The phone was answered on the first ring. "Hello, this is Sydney." He listened intently to the voice on the other end "What time?" He asked. The voice chattered in response. "Well then, he's got a good 12 hour head start on us. I'll notify Miss Parker and get Broots on it."
Sydney put down the phone and smiled to himself. He hadn't been completely sure she would do it. Sometimes it was satisfying to be proven right. He picked up the phone again, dialing quickly. "Broots, it's Sydney--time to get back to work..."
