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Chapter or Story
Author's Note: Put disclaimer here. Don't think of it as copyright infringement. Consider this as an unpaid advertisement to increase interest in "The Pretender" while we wait for the series to come out on DVD and video.
This story is chocked full of "Island of the Haunted" spoilers. As a matter of fact, if you haven't seen IOTH, you'll have no clue what is going on. As a result, I felt it necessary to include a short synopsis of the movie with the pertinent information. (See Prologue)
Of Envy and Darkness
11/11/03 Part 1 - By Phenyx
-
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is
that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our
Darkness, that most frightens us. " -- Nelson Mandela
-
Miss Parker sighed and rubbed at her aching temples. It was going to be another harrowing day. Barely ten in the morning and she could already feel the migraine pulsing behind her eyes. Reaching into her desk drawer, Parker retrieved a nearly empty bottle of pain pills and swallowed two tablets with a gulp of her cold coffee.
Closing her eyes, Parker leaned her head against the back of her chair as she casually crossed her long nylon clad legs. Using the palms of her hands she pressed against her closed lids, careful not to smudge her makeup as she did so. Pain was one thing. Bone wrenching weariness was another. But looking good still had to come first.
For years, working at The Centre had been like skirting along the fringes of the outer rings of hell. But in the last few months, hell had spread and the surroundings had gotten much hotter.
Since Mr. Parker's death three months ago, Raines had taken charge within these halls. Dark, nasty little secrets that had been skulking at Raines' heels for years had been brought closer to the surface. The unsavory aspects of several projects were now well known and accepted as standard operating procedure. It had become impossible to ignore what was going on in the depths of The Centre's sublevels.
In her heart, Miss Parker knew that Raines had not been alone in creating these atrocities. The Centre's horrors had always existed but under Mr. Parker's rule, they had remained hidden for the most part. She had no doubt that the Centre's last chairman had known everything that occurred within these walls. Yet Miss Parker remained stubbornly loyal to the man she would always think of as her father.
Out of spite and shear meanness, Miss Parker went out of her way to irritate and goad Raines whenever possible. The trick was to do it in such a way that he could not fault her, yet still know that she had done it on purpose. After more than half a dozen years playing mind games with a genius, Miss Parker found screwing with Raines' head to be remarkably simple.
Lyle on the other hand, was a different matter. As intelligent and demented as he was handsome, Parker's twin brother possessed the frighteningly unpredictable characteristics of a madman. If Lyle hadn't been a raving lunatic, the cunningly precise way the siblings toyed with each other could have been an exhilarating challenge.
Miss Parker knew better than to underestimate her brother. Regardless of how foul she imagined him to be, Parker feared that Lyle's potential for evil was far worse.
Yesterday, while on a shopping trip with Broots' daughter, Debbie, Miss Parker had literally bumped into Lyle at the mall. As he chatted in a seemingly harmless manner with the two females, Lyle licked suggestively at an ice cream cone while he eyed the little girl. Although Debbie was apparently ignorant of any undercurrent, Miss Parker had quickly become very aware of the unspoken threat.
It now fell to Parker to tell Broots what had happened. The frazzled computer technician deserved to know that his daughter could be in danger. Parker had nothing to indicate that her brother had ever tended toward pedophilia, but to ignore the warning bells clanging in her head would be a mistake. Miss Parker had quickly learned to listen to her inner sense when it spoke to her. This morning, her senses were nearly screaming at her.
Something was going to happen.
With little more than an eerie feeling of anticipation to guide her, Parker felt it best to be on guard for anything. The rest of her team needed to be prepared as well.
Parker's musings were interrupted by a soft knock on her office door. With a sigh of resignation, Parker called, "Come!"
Looking as rumpled and nervous as always, Broots scurried into the office with his distinctive shuffle. "G - good morning, Miss Parker," he stuttered. "Have you heard about the newest delegates sent by the Triumvirate?"
Miss Parker frowned. "No, I haven't."
Eyes bright with worried excitement Broots rushed to Parker's side. "Well," he said. "You know Curly, my friend in access security? He's the one who lost all his hair when the electricity surged through his computer terminal."
Parker rolled her eyes dramatically and waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Get to the point, pin-head."
"He told me," Broots went on. "That he's been ordered to create access badges for several Triumvirate representatives due in from Africa this afternoon." The technician glanced warily around the room before continuing. "The interesting part of it is that they are only being given level six access."
Parker eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Even you have higher clearance than that," she mused. "Who are these people? And why haven't I been told about their arrival? More importantly, what is Raines trying to hide from them?"
Broots shrugged.
Parker quickly stood and began pacing behind her desk. "I want you to talk to your friend, Baldy," she snapped.
"Curly," Broots corrected meekly.
"Whatever," Parker shrugged. "Find out as much as you can about this group. Meanwhile, I will arrange an accidental meeting in the hallway when they arrive. I want to get a look at them myself." A sly grin spread across Parker's face. "After all, if Raines is plotting against them, they can't be all bad."
Broots smiled. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?"
"Something like that," Parker agreed.
As Broots turned to leave the room, Parker called after him. "And Broots?" She waited for him to look back at her before continuing. "Make sure Debbie doesn't go anywhere alone for a while. We ran into Lyle while we were shopping yesterday. And I just didn't like it."
A terrified grimace crossed Broots' face. Nodding frantically, he dashed from the room, intent on making a few phone calls regarding his daughter before he talked to Curly again.
--
Several hours later, Miss Parker had strategically positioned herself in the main corridor leading to The Centre's lobby. Sydney, ignorant of his participation in her plot, juggled a series of files as the two of them discussed his newest research project. In all honesty, if it had nothing to do with their missing pretender, Parker could not possibly care less. But Sydney seemed intent upon telling her all about it and the topic gave Parker a valid excuse for dallying around in the hallways.
Only half listening to the psychiatrist's prattle, Parker scanned the lobby area with her eyes. It wasn't long before the visitors she was waiting for arrived.
Moving with well-trained precision, a group of five people stepped through the front doors into The Centre. All were dark-skinned, hinting at their African origins. Four of them were large burly men dressed in the unmistakably stern fashion of sweepers. The fifth person, striding confidently at the center of the protective swarm of guards, was a stunningly beautiful woman.
The woman's ebony skin was flawless. Her eyes were like black jewels, glittering with determination and intelligence. The slim lines of her well- toned body were accentuated by the deep saffron color of her business suit. The short skirt she wore revealed long muscular legs and Parker found herself admiring the woman's taste in clothing.
Miss Parker watched surreptitiously as Raines and Lyle greeted the small party. Both men bent slightly at the waist in a small bow of welcome. Parker frowned in confusion as she noticed that neither her brother nor Raines shook the hand that the woman offered to them.
As Lyle graciously led the woman and her entourage toward the elevators, Parker abruptly left Sydney's side and strode in the same direction. Parker reached the elevator doors first and punched the button to call the lift. Pasting a cool smile on her face, Parker turned and acted mildly startled to see the group approaching.
Without preamble, the woman stepped forward and spoke. "Miss Parker, I presume." The woman's voice was smooth and melodic with a vaguely European accent. She held her body in a regal manner, emanating an air of superiority and control.
Before Parker could respond, Raines placed himself between the two women. "I'm afraid Miss Parker's schedule prohibits our meeting with her today. Her duties are rather pressing this week."
Parker's calm smile never wavered. She refused to broadcast her confusion in front of this particular audience.
"But I have come to see Miss Parker specifically," the woman said in a voice edged with steel. "I was quite explicit about that point, Mr. Raines."
The elevator doors opened.
"It is unfortunate," Raines wheezed as he steered the woman into the elevator. "But Miss Parker simply can not be spared at this time."
With the addition of the guards and Lyle, the elevator was crowded. With a wry grin and a shrug, Lyle waved his sister away. "This car's full. You'll have to take the next one, Sis."
The metal doors slid shut with a whisper.
Banging on the button to call another elevator, Parker reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. With a flip of her thumb, she dialed a number.
"Broots," she barked into the phone. "I want to know who this woman is NOW."
Raines was going to a great deal of effort to keep Parker and this strange woman apart. As a result, Parker suddenly had a deep desire to ensure a meeting between them. Ending her connection with Broots, Parker dialed another number as she stepped onto a second elevator.
"Sam," she said when the other party answered. "I want you to do something for me."
--
It was late when Miss Parker maneuvered her car down the alley. She parked in an area marked "For employees only". With a fleeting glance at her watch, Parker stepped from her vehicle and quickly crossed the darkened pavement. As if anticipating her arrival, a large unmarked door opened, spilling a slender band of light across the shadows.
Sam, holding the heavy door with one hand, stepped back to allow Miss Parker to enter.
"Well?" Parker asked as she blew by.
Firmly closing the door behind them, Sam replied, "You were right. Mr. Raines has people watching the lobby."
"Let's do this," Parker demanded.
With a nod, Sam led Miss Parker through a large corridor. They passed through a huge industrial kitchen, ignoring the handful of workers bustling about at this late hour. A hotel as large and exclusive as this one had around the clock service. Maids and bellhops scurried back and forth. A middle-aged man dressed in cook's whites stomped toward them, grumbling in Italian as he walked.
Sam surreptitiously placed himself between his employer and the irate chef. The other man passed without stopping, seemingly oblivious to the newcomers. With a vague tug at Miss Parker's elbow, Sam steered her down another hall.
Weaving through a maze of corridors and stairwells, the pair made their way to the upper floors. Sam paused at the wooden doors of a luxury suite and rapped softly on the oak panel. A moment later the door was opened by one of the burly guards that had arrived at The Centre earlier that day.
Following the guard, Parker and Sam entered the hotel room where they found the other Triumvirate representatives patiently waiting. The woman was dressed in jade silk pants and a matching kimono-like blouse. The outfit seemed equally appropriate for either a casual diner party or a sexy bedroom encounter. The other girl's flawless attire only reminded Parker that she had been wearing the same suit for more than sixteen hours.
"Miss Parker," the woman purred. "Finally we meet."
Parker inclined her head in greeting, "I hope you will forgive the lateness of the hour, Madame."
"There is nothing to forgive," the woman said. "I feared that Mr. Raines had forbidden any meeting between us."
Parker smiled coldly. "He did," Parker said simply. "That is why am here."
Delighted laughter bubbled from the other woman's throat. "I think I'm going to like you, Angel," she chortled.
"My name is Miss Parker," was the icy reply.
"Of course," the other woman agreed, sobering quickly. "And mine is Mercedes."
"I know," Parker said. "You didn't think I would simply waltz into this in ignorance, did you?"
The other woman's smile never wavered. "No," she said softly.
The two women watched each other silently for a full minute until Parker finally said, "You wanted this meeting very badly, Mercedes. What do want of me?"
"I've come looking for your pretender, Miss Parker." Mercedes drawled. The smile slid away from her face and her voice took on a frigid tone. "I'm going to find him. Then I'm going to kill him. I need your help to do it."
"My help?" Parker asked as she struggled to hide her surprise.
The other woman nodded slowly. "Know one knows him better than you do. I don't believe anyone else could locate him."
Parker chewed at her lip for a moment, shook her head and said, "You've come to the wrong person, Mercedes. I can't help you."
"Can't?" the other woman asked knowingly.
"Won't." Parker shrugged. "As a corpse, Jarod is no good to me. The Centre wants him alive."
"I want him dead," the dark woman hissed. Ice dripped from the razor sharp edges of her voice. "He's dead already. I'm just here to deliver the message."
Miss Parker was greatly tempted to turn on her heel and storm out of the room. But if she were to leave now, Parker would learn nothing. This Mercedes woman was a dangerous new player in The Centre's twisted little game. Besides, Parker wasn't about to let anyone else put a bullet in that irritating son-of-a-bitch. That right belonged to her.
"So there's a contract out on Wonder-Boy, is there?" Parker commented dryly.
Mercedes shook her head slowly. "Not to my knowledge. But he will pay, nonetheless."
"Pay for what?" Parker asked.
The African woman's jaw clenched so tightly that Parker could see the muscles in her jaw twitching. "He will pay for the lives he has taken. I will exact my retribution."
The woman's entire body trembled with barely restrained fury.
Parker frowned as her confusion grew. She had no idea what Jarod could have done to infuriate this woman so greatly. As the seconds ticked by, Parker realized that there was no way she could learn more without revealing her lack of information. Knowledge was power. Parker's deficiency of information could only be perceived as weakness.
With a sigh of resignation, Parker said, "Jarod does not take life without just cause or extreme provocation."
"He murdered my husband," Mercedes hissed in a soft curse.
"Jarod is no murderer," Parker defended.
"And yet my husband is DEAD!" the other woman screamed loudly. Her voice immediately dropped to little more than a whisper. "My Adama is dead," she murmured with heart wrenching sadness.
Parker flinched in shock. Her father's voice whispered across her memory, "Adama thinks you're bad luck."
Mercedes, watching Parker's reactions carefully, stepped closer. Her coal black eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You were there, weren't you?" Mercedes demanded. "You saw that bastard kill my husband."
Parker took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest casually. "I don't know what you are talking about," Parker lied.
"Bullshit," the other woman snapped. In a rapid yet graceful movement, Mercedes closed the distance between the two women. Grabbing Parker's upper arm, Mercedes closed her eyes and threw back her head.
For a split second, Parker stared at the other woman in disgust. But within a heartbeat, her distaste turning into surprise and fear as a strange sensation spread through her. The feeling radiated from her arm where Mercedes gripped it so firmly. Parker's eyes grew wide as a hot tingling spread through the limb like a low voltage electrical shock.
As the prickling and heat intensified, Parker felt another, far deeper pull at her psyche. The room seemed to diminish and fall into shadow. There was nothing beyond Parker and this strange woman. The room grew cold and for a moment, Parker had the sensation of movement, as though she were on a plane.
Wavering transparent images appeared before Parker's eyes and she saw the Triumvirate goon named Adama.
"Take these three forward," the ghostly image said in a voice that sounded very far away.
Panic pounded through Parker's chest. She was afraid. She could not fight these men alone. Moving as though in slow motion, Parker turned her head slightly and saw another flickering ghost image. A mirage-like Jarod sat only a few feet away. The false Jarod nodded once in reassurance.
"Jarod?" Parker gasped in disbelief. The sound of her voice startled her slightly as it began to echo back to her. "Jarod? Jarod? Jarod?"
The name whispered again and again in a spiraling tumble of voices that began to grow. A moment later, Miss Parker realized that her voice was not alone. Her inner sense and the voices that accompanied it were whirling through her mind like a cyclone.
With a small cry Parker stumbled backwards into Sam's steadying presence. Blinking rapidly, Parker forced the room back into focus. Mercedes reached out to one of her men for support and glared balefully at Miss Parker.
"Your abilities are stronger than you lead others to believe," Mercedes admitted angrily. "I can not force the memories from you." She straightened. Smoothing her blouse slightly, Mercedes seemed to regain her composure before she went on. "There is no doubt that Mr. Raines is hiding something from me. I am sure that you can reveal what I wish to know."
Parker rubbed at her temple as she frowned. "What the hell did you just do to me?"
Mercedes shrugged. "I have a gift," she said with a shrug. "I possess the ability to share thoughts and memories with a touch. But I believe that your gift prevents me from taking anything from you without your consent."
Returning to her own haughty stance, Parker asked wryly, "Why should I cooperate with you?"
"Why do you protect my husband's killer?" Mercedes asked in return.
Parker stared at the other woman in silence. 'Why indeed?' Parker thought to herself. Jarod had not killed this woman's spouse. He had been chained up in the cargo area when Raines had shot Adama. In withholding information from Mercedes, Parker was defending the same wretched fiend that had killed her own mother.
"I was there," Parker admitted slowly. "Jarod is not the one you want."
The other woman's face fell in surprise. "But the report received by the Triumvirate," she began. Mercedes paused and Parker could see the other woman's thoughts flashing across her face. "Raines," Mercedes gasped. "He lied to us."
"Oh now, there's a shocker," Miss Parker cooed dryly.
Taking a step forward, Mercedes crossed her arms over her chest. "I must know the truth, Miss Parker." She said with determination.
"Truth is an elusive and precious thing around here," Parker said with a wry smile. "Why should I share what little I have?"
Mercedes chewed thoughtfully at her full lower lip. With a sigh of frustration, she said, "I will strike a bargain with you, Parker. In exchange for your aid in this matter, I will agree to join your faction. You will have my influence added to your own in all dealings with the Triumvirate."
Parker frowned as her confusion climbed once again. "I have no influence with the Triumvirate," Parker said carefully.
The other woman's brows shot up in surprise. "There are a few members who do not believe," Mercedes said. "And others who still cling to the possibility that fate can be avoided. But no one denies who you are. No one disputes your role in the prophecy."
The air in the room seemed to grow thicker as Parker's heart began to pound wildly in her chest. "Prophecy?" she asked in a dangerous, low voice. "How can you know what was in the scrolls?"
Mercedes frowned for a moment before bursting into stunned laughter. "You've never been told!" Mercedes exclaimed. "They've kept it a secret." The other woman sobered and eyed Parker critically. "But if you have no understanding of your role in this, how is it that you command such fear and respect from those around you?"
"I earned it the hard way," Parker growled. "What secret have they kept from me?"
Mercedes smiled. "That you are the deliverer, of course."
Parker shook her head in confusion.
With a sigh, Mercedes tried to explain. "A century ago, your great- grandfather found and read the ancient scrolls."
"Yes, yes," Parker grimaced. "This part I know. In exchange for the power of the scrolls he murdered his family and came to America."
Mercedes nodded. "He led the Triumvirate to believe that he had these scrolls and that they held a prophecy that could make them powerful beyond reckoning. He passed this prophecy down to his son and his grandson. They in turn shared small portions of the legend with the Triumvirate."
Parker stared thoughtfully at the other girl. "He must have written down as much of the prophecy as he could remember and released bits and pieces in intervals. It would have been the only way to convince the Triumvirate that he still held the scrolls."
Mercedes shrugged noncommittally. "As Adama told it to me, the prophecy claims that The Centre will rise to tremendous power. Under the guidance of the chosen one, The Centre will influence dynasties. Entire countries will be built and others will fall, under his influence."
"But the chosen is not the only one foretold in the prophecies," Mercedes went on. "Fate can not be rushed. The chosen one will be brought into the center of power by the deliverer, an angel led by whispers from the dead."
"Meaningless bedtime stories," Parker swallowed.
"Perhaps," Mercedes said. "But Adama believed it to be true. The scrolls give the name of the chosen one. They promise that the chosen will be found and that his name is Jarod."
Parker laughed in startled disbelief. "Are you trying to tell me that our lab rat is some kind of king, anointed by these farfetched stories?"
"No," Mercedes said indulgently. "Not a king, he is but a guide that will bring The Centre great wealth and power."
"Jarod would never willingly aid The Centre," Parker said with a frown.
"Willingly or not, whomever controls Jarod, will control The Centre and all the riches that accompany it," Mercedes argued. "I had feared our fate," she admitted. "I thought our future would be determined by the whims of a killer. But I was wrong, wasn't I?" Mercedes' eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "If it was not Jarod who murdered my husband, who did?"
Parker mulled over her current predicament as she stared thoughtfully at the beautiful woman.
"We must trust each other in this, Parker," Mercedes said sadly. "My offer still stands. I could be an extremely helpful ally in these dangerous times."
Parker laughed coldly, "Trust is even more rare that truth. Don't ask it of me."
"There is a way," Mercedes said slowly. "A way for you to trust me. A way for me to trust you."
"How?" Parker asked.
"Share with me," Mercedes pleaded. "Allow me to see my husband's last moments through your eyes. It will create a bond between us."
Parker hesitated. Normally she would have declined immediately, but something made her pause. This woman Mercedes, standing so strong and determined, seemed to have touched some deep part of Parker's soul. Parker felt drawn to her and could not explain why.
"Okay," Parker said before she could stop herself. "What do I need to do?"
Mercedes stepped forward, until there were only a few inches separating them. "Relax," she said. "Don't be afraid. Don't fight the memories."
Parker nodded once in acceptance.
As Mercedes reached out, Parker responded in kind and they clasped hands. Parker felt a small jolt as though she'd been zapped by the static electricity from a cheap carpet. Mercedes smiled serenely at her and Parker had the distinct sensation of falling. She was falling into the dark black pools of the other woman's eyes.
She was falling.
This story is chocked full of "Island of the Haunted" spoilers. As a matter of fact, if you haven't seen IOTH, you'll have no clue what is going on. As a result, I felt it necessary to include a short synopsis of the movie with the pertinent information. (See Prologue)
Of Envy and Darkness
11/11/03 Part 1 - By Phenyx
-
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is
that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our
Darkness, that most frightens us. " -- Nelson Mandela
-
Miss Parker sighed and rubbed at her aching temples. It was going to be another harrowing day. Barely ten in the morning and she could already feel the migraine pulsing behind her eyes. Reaching into her desk drawer, Parker retrieved a nearly empty bottle of pain pills and swallowed two tablets with a gulp of her cold coffee.
Closing her eyes, Parker leaned her head against the back of her chair as she casually crossed her long nylon clad legs. Using the palms of her hands she pressed against her closed lids, careful not to smudge her makeup as she did so. Pain was one thing. Bone wrenching weariness was another. But looking good still had to come first.
For years, working at The Centre had been like skirting along the fringes of the outer rings of hell. But in the last few months, hell had spread and the surroundings had gotten much hotter.
Since Mr. Parker's death three months ago, Raines had taken charge within these halls. Dark, nasty little secrets that had been skulking at Raines' heels for years had been brought closer to the surface. The unsavory aspects of several projects were now well known and accepted as standard operating procedure. It had become impossible to ignore what was going on in the depths of The Centre's sublevels.
In her heart, Miss Parker knew that Raines had not been alone in creating these atrocities. The Centre's horrors had always existed but under Mr. Parker's rule, they had remained hidden for the most part. She had no doubt that the Centre's last chairman had known everything that occurred within these walls. Yet Miss Parker remained stubbornly loyal to the man she would always think of as her father.
Out of spite and shear meanness, Miss Parker went out of her way to irritate and goad Raines whenever possible. The trick was to do it in such a way that he could not fault her, yet still know that she had done it on purpose. After more than half a dozen years playing mind games with a genius, Miss Parker found screwing with Raines' head to be remarkably simple.
Lyle on the other hand, was a different matter. As intelligent and demented as he was handsome, Parker's twin brother possessed the frighteningly unpredictable characteristics of a madman. If Lyle hadn't been a raving lunatic, the cunningly precise way the siblings toyed with each other could have been an exhilarating challenge.
Miss Parker knew better than to underestimate her brother. Regardless of how foul she imagined him to be, Parker feared that Lyle's potential for evil was far worse.
Yesterday, while on a shopping trip with Broots' daughter, Debbie, Miss Parker had literally bumped into Lyle at the mall. As he chatted in a seemingly harmless manner with the two females, Lyle licked suggestively at an ice cream cone while he eyed the little girl. Although Debbie was apparently ignorant of any undercurrent, Miss Parker had quickly become very aware of the unspoken threat.
It now fell to Parker to tell Broots what had happened. The frazzled computer technician deserved to know that his daughter could be in danger. Parker had nothing to indicate that her brother had ever tended toward pedophilia, but to ignore the warning bells clanging in her head would be a mistake. Miss Parker had quickly learned to listen to her inner sense when it spoke to her. This morning, her senses were nearly screaming at her.
Something was going to happen.
With little more than an eerie feeling of anticipation to guide her, Parker felt it best to be on guard for anything. The rest of her team needed to be prepared as well.
Parker's musings were interrupted by a soft knock on her office door. With a sigh of resignation, Parker called, "Come!"
Looking as rumpled and nervous as always, Broots scurried into the office with his distinctive shuffle. "G - good morning, Miss Parker," he stuttered. "Have you heard about the newest delegates sent by the Triumvirate?"
Miss Parker frowned. "No, I haven't."
Eyes bright with worried excitement Broots rushed to Parker's side. "Well," he said. "You know Curly, my friend in access security? He's the one who lost all his hair when the electricity surged through his computer terminal."
Parker rolled her eyes dramatically and waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Get to the point, pin-head."
"He told me," Broots went on. "That he's been ordered to create access badges for several Triumvirate representatives due in from Africa this afternoon." The technician glanced warily around the room before continuing. "The interesting part of it is that they are only being given level six access."
Parker eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Even you have higher clearance than that," she mused. "Who are these people? And why haven't I been told about their arrival? More importantly, what is Raines trying to hide from them?"
Broots shrugged.
Parker quickly stood and began pacing behind her desk. "I want you to talk to your friend, Baldy," she snapped.
"Curly," Broots corrected meekly.
"Whatever," Parker shrugged. "Find out as much as you can about this group. Meanwhile, I will arrange an accidental meeting in the hallway when they arrive. I want to get a look at them myself." A sly grin spread across Parker's face. "After all, if Raines is plotting against them, they can't be all bad."
Broots smiled. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?"
"Something like that," Parker agreed.
As Broots turned to leave the room, Parker called after him. "And Broots?" She waited for him to look back at her before continuing. "Make sure Debbie doesn't go anywhere alone for a while. We ran into Lyle while we were shopping yesterday. And I just didn't like it."
A terrified grimace crossed Broots' face. Nodding frantically, he dashed from the room, intent on making a few phone calls regarding his daughter before he talked to Curly again.
--
Several hours later, Miss Parker had strategically positioned herself in the main corridor leading to The Centre's lobby. Sydney, ignorant of his participation in her plot, juggled a series of files as the two of them discussed his newest research project. In all honesty, if it had nothing to do with their missing pretender, Parker could not possibly care less. But Sydney seemed intent upon telling her all about it and the topic gave Parker a valid excuse for dallying around in the hallways.
Only half listening to the psychiatrist's prattle, Parker scanned the lobby area with her eyes. It wasn't long before the visitors she was waiting for arrived.
Moving with well-trained precision, a group of five people stepped through the front doors into The Centre. All were dark-skinned, hinting at their African origins. Four of them were large burly men dressed in the unmistakably stern fashion of sweepers. The fifth person, striding confidently at the center of the protective swarm of guards, was a stunningly beautiful woman.
The woman's ebony skin was flawless. Her eyes were like black jewels, glittering with determination and intelligence. The slim lines of her well- toned body were accentuated by the deep saffron color of her business suit. The short skirt she wore revealed long muscular legs and Parker found herself admiring the woman's taste in clothing.
Miss Parker watched surreptitiously as Raines and Lyle greeted the small party. Both men bent slightly at the waist in a small bow of welcome. Parker frowned in confusion as she noticed that neither her brother nor Raines shook the hand that the woman offered to them.
As Lyle graciously led the woman and her entourage toward the elevators, Parker abruptly left Sydney's side and strode in the same direction. Parker reached the elevator doors first and punched the button to call the lift. Pasting a cool smile on her face, Parker turned and acted mildly startled to see the group approaching.
Without preamble, the woman stepped forward and spoke. "Miss Parker, I presume." The woman's voice was smooth and melodic with a vaguely European accent. She held her body in a regal manner, emanating an air of superiority and control.
Before Parker could respond, Raines placed himself between the two women. "I'm afraid Miss Parker's schedule prohibits our meeting with her today. Her duties are rather pressing this week."
Parker's calm smile never wavered. She refused to broadcast her confusion in front of this particular audience.
"But I have come to see Miss Parker specifically," the woman said in a voice edged with steel. "I was quite explicit about that point, Mr. Raines."
The elevator doors opened.
"It is unfortunate," Raines wheezed as he steered the woman into the elevator. "But Miss Parker simply can not be spared at this time."
With the addition of the guards and Lyle, the elevator was crowded. With a wry grin and a shrug, Lyle waved his sister away. "This car's full. You'll have to take the next one, Sis."
The metal doors slid shut with a whisper.
Banging on the button to call another elevator, Parker reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. With a flip of her thumb, she dialed a number.
"Broots," she barked into the phone. "I want to know who this woman is NOW."
Raines was going to a great deal of effort to keep Parker and this strange woman apart. As a result, Parker suddenly had a deep desire to ensure a meeting between them. Ending her connection with Broots, Parker dialed another number as she stepped onto a second elevator.
"Sam," she said when the other party answered. "I want you to do something for me."
--
It was late when Miss Parker maneuvered her car down the alley. She parked in an area marked "For employees only". With a fleeting glance at her watch, Parker stepped from her vehicle and quickly crossed the darkened pavement. As if anticipating her arrival, a large unmarked door opened, spilling a slender band of light across the shadows.
Sam, holding the heavy door with one hand, stepped back to allow Miss Parker to enter.
"Well?" Parker asked as she blew by.
Firmly closing the door behind them, Sam replied, "You were right. Mr. Raines has people watching the lobby."
"Let's do this," Parker demanded.
With a nod, Sam led Miss Parker through a large corridor. They passed through a huge industrial kitchen, ignoring the handful of workers bustling about at this late hour. A hotel as large and exclusive as this one had around the clock service. Maids and bellhops scurried back and forth. A middle-aged man dressed in cook's whites stomped toward them, grumbling in Italian as he walked.
Sam surreptitiously placed himself between his employer and the irate chef. The other man passed without stopping, seemingly oblivious to the newcomers. With a vague tug at Miss Parker's elbow, Sam steered her down another hall.
Weaving through a maze of corridors and stairwells, the pair made their way to the upper floors. Sam paused at the wooden doors of a luxury suite and rapped softly on the oak panel. A moment later the door was opened by one of the burly guards that had arrived at The Centre earlier that day.
Following the guard, Parker and Sam entered the hotel room where they found the other Triumvirate representatives patiently waiting. The woman was dressed in jade silk pants and a matching kimono-like blouse. The outfit seemed equally appropriate for either a casual diner party or a sexy bedroom encounter. The other girl's flawless attire only reminded Parker that she had been wearing the same suit for more than sixteen hours.
"Miss Parker," the woman purred. "Finally we meet."
Parker inclined her head in greeting, "I hope you will forgive the lateness of the hour, Madame."
"There is nothing to forgive," the woman said. "I feared that Mr. Raines had forbidden any meeting between us."
Parker smiled coldly. "He did," Parker said simply. "That is why am here."
Delighted laughter bubbled from the other woman's throat. "I think I'm going to like you, Angel," she chortled.
"My name is Miss Parker," was the icy reply.
"Of course," the other woman agreed, sobering quickly. "And mine is Mercedes."
"I know," Parker said. "You didn't think I would simply waltz into this in ignorance, did you?"
The other woman's smile never wavered. "No," she said softly.
The two women watched each other silently for a full minute until Parker finally said, "You wanted this meeting very badly, Mercedes. What do want of me?"
"I've come looking for your pretender, Miss Parker." Mercedes drawled. The smile slid away from her face and her voice took on a frigid tone. "I'm going to find him. Then I'm going to kill him. I need your help to do it."
"My help?" Parker asked as she struggled to hide her surprise.
The other woman nodded slowly. "Know one knows him better than you do. I don't believe anyone else could locate him."
Parker chewed at her lip for a moment, shook her head and said, "You've come to the wrong person, Mercedes. I can't help you."
"Can't?" the other woman asked knowingly.
"Won't." Parker shrugged. "As a corpse, Jarod is no good to me. The Centre wants him alive."
"I want him dead," the dark woman hissed. Ice dripped from the razor sharp edges of her voice. "He's dead already. I'm just here to deliver the message."
Miss Parker was greatly tempted to turn on her heel and storm out of the room. But if she were to leave now, Parker would learn nothing. This Mercedes woman was a dangerous new player in The Centre's twisted little game. Besides, Parker wasn't about to let anyone else put a bullet in that irritating son-of-a-bitch. That right belonged to her.
"So there's a contract out on Wonder-Boy, is there?" Parker commented dryly.
Mercedes shook her head slowly. "Not to my knowledge. But he will pay, nonetheless."
"Pay for what?" Parker asked.
The African woman's jaw clenched so tightly that Parker could see the muscles in her jaw twitching. "He will pay for the lives he has taken. I will exact my retribution."
The woman's entire body trembled with barely restrained fury.
Parker frowned as her confusion grew. She had no idea what Jarod could have done to infuriate this woman so greatly. As the seconds ticked by, Parker realized that there was no way she could learn more without revealing her lack of information. Knowledge was power. Parker's deficiency of information could only be perceived as weakness.
With a sigh of resignation, Parker said, "Jarod does not take life without just cause or extreme provocation."
"He murdered my husband," Mercedes hissed in a soft curse.
"Jarod is no murderer," Parker defended.
"And yet my husband is DEAD!" the other woman screamed loudly. Her voice immediately dropped to little more than a whisper. "My Adama is dead," she murmured with heart wrenching sadness.
Parker flinched in shock. Her father's voice whispered across her memory, "Adama thinks you're bad luck."
Mercedes, watching Parker's reactions carefully, stepped closer. Her coal black eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You were there, weren't you?" Mercedes demanded. "You saw that bastard kill my husband."
Parker took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest casually. "I don't know what you are talking about," Parker lied.
"Bullshit," the other woman snapped. In a rapid yet graceful movement, Mercedes closed the distance between the two women. Grabbing Parker's upper arm, Mercedes closed her eyes and threw back her head.
For a split second, Parker stared at the other woman in disgust. But within a heartbeat, her distaste turning into surprise and fear as a strange sensation spread through her. The feeling radiated from her arm where Mercedes gripped it so firmly. Parker's eyes grew wide as a hot tingling spread through the limb like a low voltage electrical shock.
As the prickling and heat intensified, Parker felt another, far deeper pull at her psyche. The room seemed to diminish and fall into shadow. There was nothing beyond Parker and this strange woman. The room grew cold and for a moment, Parker had the sensation of movement, as though she were on a plane.
Wavering transparent images appeared before Parker's eyes and she saw the Triumvirate goon named Adama.
"Take these three forward," the ghostly image said in a voice that sounded very far away.
Panic pounded through Parker's chest. She was afraid. She could not fight these men alone. Moving as though in slow motion, Parker turned her head slightly and saw another flickering ghost image. A mirage-like Jarod sat only a few feet away. The false Jarod nodded once in reassurance.
"Jarod?" Parker gasped in disbelief. The sound of her voice startled her slightly as it began to echo back to her. "Jarod? Jarod? Jarod?"
The name whispered again and again in a spiraling tumble of voices that began to grow. A moment later, Miss Parker realized that her voice was not alone. Her inner sense and the voices that accompanied it were whirling through her mind like a cyclone.
With a small cry Parker stumbled backwards into Sam's steadying presence. Blinking rapidly, Parker forced the room back into focus. Mercedes reached out to one of her men for support and glared balefully at Miss Parker.
"Your abilities are stronger than you lead others to believe," Mercedes admitted angrily. "I can not force the memories from you." She straightened. Smoothing her blouse slightly, Mercedes seemed to regain her composure before she went on. "There is no doubt that Mr. Raines is hiding something from me. I am sure that you can reveal what I wish to know."
Parker rubbed at her temple as she frowned. "What the hell did you just do to me?"
Mercedes shrugged. "I have a gift," she said with a shrug. "I possess the ability to share thoughts and memories with a touch. But I believe that your gift prevents me from taking anything from you without your consent."
Returning to her own haughty stance, Parker asked wryly, "Why should I cooperate with you?"
"Why do you protect my husband's killer?" Mercedes asked in return.
Parker stared at the other woman in silence. 'Why indeed?' Parker thought to herself. Jarod had not killed this woman's spouse. He had been chained up in the cargo area when Raines had shot Adama. In withholding information from Mercedes, Parker was defending the same wretched fiend that had killed her own mother.
"I was there," Parker admitted slowly. "Jarod is not the one you want."
The other woman's face fell in surprise. "But the report received by the Triumvirate," she began. Mercedes paused and Parker could see the other woman's thoughts flashing across her face. "Raines," Mercedes gasped. "He lied to us."
"Oh now, there's a shocker," Miss Parker cooed dryly.
Taking a step forward, Mercedes crossed her arms over her chest. "I must know the truth, Miss Parker." She said with determination.
"Truth is an elusive and precious thing around here," Parker said with a wry smile. "Why should I share what little I have?"
Mercedes chewed thoughtfully at her full lower lip. With a sigh of frustration, she said, "I will strike a bargain with you, Parker. In exchange for your aid in this matter, I will agree to join your faction. You will have my influence added to your own in all dealings with the Triumvirate."
Parker frowned as her confusion climbed once again. "I have no influence with the Triumvirate," Parker said carefully.
The other woman's brows shot up in surprise. "There are a few members who do not believe," Mercedes said. "And others who still cling to the possibility that fate can be avoided. But no one denies who you are. No one disputes your role in the prophecy."
The air in the room seemed to grow thicker as Parker's heart began to pound wildly in her chest. "Prophecy?" she asked in a dangerous, low voice. "How can you know what was in the scrolls?"
Mercedes frowned for a moment before bursting into stunned laughter. "You've never been told!" Mercedes exclaimed. "They've kept it a secret." The other woman sobered and eyed Parker critically. "But if you have no understanding of your role in this, how is it that you command such fear and respect from those around you?"
"I earned it the hard way," Parker growled. "What secret have they kept from me?"
Mercedes smiled. "That you are the deliverer, of course."
Parker shook her head in confusion.
With a sigh, Mercedes tried to explain. "A century ago, your great- grandfather found and read the ancient scrolls."
"Yes, yes," Parker grimaced. "This part I know. In exchange for the power of the scrolls he murdered his family and came to America."
Mercedes nodded. "He led the Triumvirate to believe that he had these scrolls and that they held a prophecy that could make them powerful beyond reckoning. He passed this prophecy down to his son and his grandson. They in turn shared small portions of the legend with the Triumvirate."
Parker stared thoughtfully at the other girl. "He must have written down as much of the prophecy as he could remember and released bits and pieces in intervals. It would have been the only way to convince the Triumvirate that he still held the scrolls."
Mercedes shrugged noncommittally. "As Adama told it to me, the prophecy claims that The Centre will rise to tremendous power. Under the guidance of the chosen one, The Centre will influence dynasties. Entire countries will be built and others will fall, under his influence."
"But the chosen is not the only one foretold in the prophecies," Mercedes went on. "Fate can not be rushed. The chosen one will be brought into the center of power by the deliverer, an angel led by whispers from the dead."
"Meaningless bedtime stories," Parker swallowed.
"Perhaps," Mercedes said. "But Adama believed it to be true. The scrolls give the name of the chosen one. They promise that the chosen will be found and that his name is Jarod."
Parker laughed in startled disbelief. "Are you trying to tell me that our lab rat is some kind of king, anointed by these farfetched stories?"
"No," Mercedes said indulgently. "Not a king, he is but a guide that will bring The Centre great wealth and power."
"Jarod would never willingly aid The Centre," Parker said with a frown.
"Willingly or not, whomever controls Jarod, will control The Centre and all the riches that accompany it," Mercedes argued. "I had feared our fate," she admitted. "I thought our future would be determined by the whims of a killer. But I was wrong, wasn't I?" Mercedes' eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "If it was not Jarod who murdered my husband, who did?"
Parker mulled over her current predicament as she stared thoughtfully at the beautiful woman.
"We must trust each other in this, Parker," Mercedes said sadly. "My offer still stands. I could be an extremely helpful ally in these dangerous times."
Parker laughed coldly, "Trust is even more rare that truth. Don't ask it of me."
"There is a way," Mercedes said slowly. "A way for you to trust me. A way for me to trust you."
"How?" Parker asked.
"Share with me," Mercedes pleaded. "Allow me to see my husband's last moments through your eyes. It will create a bond between us."
Parker hesitated. Normally she would have declined immediately, but something made her pause. This woman Mercedes, standing so strong and determined, seemed to have touched some deep part of Parker's soul. Parker felt drawn to her and could not explain why.
"Okay," Parker said before she could stop herself. "What do I need to do?"
Mercedes stepped forward, until there were only a few inches separating them. "Relax," she said. "Don't be afraid. Don't fight the memories."
Parker nodded once in acceptance.
As Mercedes reached out, Parker responded in kind and they clasped hands. Parker felt a small jolt as though she'd been zapped by the static electricity from a cheap carpet. Mercedes smiled serenely at her and Parker had the distinct sensation of falling. She was falling into the dark black pools of the other woman's eyes.
She was falling.
