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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property
of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. No profit has been made.you know the drill.
Of Envy and Darkness
11/30/03 Part5 - By Phenyx
-
Jarod sighed and made a conscious effort not to adjust his tie again. He stared morosely out the tinted window and tried to find some semblance of calm. The roadside seemed to blur passed with alarming speed, causing Jarod to wonder if the limo driver might be exceeding the legal limit. The vehicle turned a corner and Jarod realized that they were less than ten minutes from their destination.
Panic started clawing at his lungs. 'Bad idea, bad idea,' whispered insidiously through his mind. 'Stop it, NOW!' Jarod ordered himself silently. 'Breathe J-man. Breathe. In, out. In, out,' he thought. In a valiant attempt to steady his nerves, Jarod began counting any vertical item he could see out the window.
Parker sat quietly in the leather seat opposite the pretender and tried not to watch him fret. On the surface, Jarod seemed relatively composed. Only the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against one thigh indicated otherwise. But Parker knew better. She could see his discomfort increasing with each passing moment.
Mercedes, sitting next to Jarod on his right, placed one hand over his jittering fingers. Sensing his tension, she said gently, "Jarod." Her voice was soft and soothing. "Settle down. In order for this to work, you need to believe that it will."
"Technically," Jarod said in a flat voice. "What I believe is irrelevant. All that matters is the impression that I project."
"You mustn't show even the slightest trace of doubt," Mercedes said firmly. "If you hesitate, they will not accept your command." She tenderly stroked a hand down Jarod's arm and then plucked a bit of fluff from his pant leg. "You need to behave as though you belong there. Can you do that, Jarod?"
"He can," Parker stated frankly. Jarod's deep brown eyes flashed nervously at her. "You can," she said more forcefully in reassurance.
"They won't hurt you," Mercedes promised. "They can't."
"Yes they can," Jarod said in a soft voice. "They just can't kill me."
"They'll have to get through me first," Parker growled in a soft but dangerous voice.
Jarod blinked at her in surprise for a moment before suddenly breaking into a huge grin. "I am delighted to have you on my side, Miss Parker. Much safer than being on your shit list."
Parker smiled sweetly. "Being on the same team doesn't exclude you from my list, Pez-head."
Jarod chuckled at the light jest but his laughter quickly vanished as the vehicle drew to a stop in front of the huge stone edifice of The Centre. The passengers waited for a moment while Sam and the sweeper team swarmed from the car that had parked directly in front of them.
Mercedes turned toward Jarod and gently straightened his tie to her liking. "Just remember Jarod, 'That which does not kill us, makes us stronger,'" she quoted.
Jarod's gaze flickered toward Parker once again. "Just call me Hercules," he murmured wryly.
"Cute, Jarod," Parker smirked. "Not funny, but cute."
The door opened and Omar, one of Ishmael's men, held it patiently as Mercedes stepped out of the car. Parker rose gracefully and leaned toward the exit. "Let's get this show on the road, Mr. Chairman," she said in an abruptly cold tone.
Jarod took a deep breath and followed Parker onto the pavement. He climbed the stairs leading to the entrance, with the ladies only a step behind him. Sam and Ishmael took the point position while the remaining sweepers followed up the rear. As a group they moved with a fine-tuned, military precision, the result of hours worth of practice done at Jarod's insistence.
The pretender's obsession with detail paid off. As the team walked through the double doors into the lobby, their movements were smooth and somewhat intimidating. They headed straight for the elevators, heedless of the stunned gasps around them.
As Sam punched the button to call the elevator, Jarod turned and spotted a young man standing a few yards away. Young, thin and very fair, the man wore spectacles and was carrying a clipboard.
"You," Jarod snapped at him. "What's your name?"
"Scott Manning," he replied.
"What's your assignment?" Jarod asked.
"I'm a reports technician in accounting," Manning answered.
Jarod's hard gaze studied the pale man carefully. The truth was that Jarod already had an in depth knowledge of Scott Manning. He knew where Manning worked, his security level, his associates and even his favorite foods. Jarod knew that Manning had access to expense reports and detailed vouchers and he knew that Manning was no idiot.
"Today you'll work for me," Jarod commanded in a stern voice that allowed no room for defiance.
Manning blinked for only a moment before answering, "Yes, Sir." Of course, there had been no doubt that Manning would comply. The thin young man was in actuality one of the dozen or more people who had been approached by Mercedes and Miss Parker the week before.
In the past year Scott Manning had learned things that he had never wanted to know. Anyone who sees enough invoicing and expense reports learns, over time, to interpret some of the things that one sees. Manning had gradually become aware of a horrifying trend in the documents crossing his desk. Due to a lower security level, he was unable to find out exact details but the generalities were enough to give him nightmares.
Manning, a decade older than his smooth looks implied, was plagued constantly by his conscience. As the months had passed since Mr. Parker's death, Scott had become more obsessed with the need to stop what was happening around him. Yet he had been unsure of how to proceed. Mercedes, using her gift, had learned all this about Manning as she brushed passed him in a crowded cafeteria one day.
Scott Manning was not alone. There were dozens of Centre employees, Sydney and Broots among them, who were terribly unhappy with their current situation but unable to alter it. Disturbed by the environment yet afraid to break free of it, these people anguished at the evil around them. Each suffered alone not realizing how great their numbers had become. Mercedes and Parker had skillfully chosen from this group the most trustworthy, desperate employees.
Jarod had carefully reviewed all the files for these people and memorized their photographs. He would know them each on sight. They had been strategically planted throughout the building so that Jarod would be sure to come into contact with them at some point during the day.
"Come with us," the pretender said as the elevator doors opened. Without hesitation, Manning stepped into place behind Jarod as the team piled into the lift. The young man had accepted Jarod's authority without question. At least, that was how it seemed to the audience of other employees standing in the lobby.
Throughout the day as Jarod encountered each of these pre-qualified individuals, he would demand some show of obedience. Due to Miss Parker's advance coaching, they would obey with alacrity, accepting Jarod's orders unfailingly. To those watching, it would instill the belief that Jarod's power was indisputable. Human beings tend to lean toward conformity. Once a handful of employees had joined Jarod's faction, others would be more likely to follow. The deck was already stacked in the pretender's favor.
The elevator rose to the executive level of the tower. When the doors slid open, Jarod stepped out into a wide carpeted corridor leading to the chairman's office. He strode past the receptionist's desk ignoring protests of the girl sitting in the chair. Sam quickly overpowered the single guard on duty in the hallway.
Jarod turned to the pale young man with the clipboard and said, "Manning, write everything down. I want to document every change we make." The pretender then began barking orders as he moved down the hall. "Ishmael, the security on this level stinks. We need additional cameras, there," Jarod pointed. "And there. I want them to transmit video and sound to a security station located in place of the receptionist's desk. I'll want a feed sent into our offices as well. We'll see anyone who comes up this corridor. No one sneaks up on us."
With a glance toward the far end of the passage Jarod added, "We'll need cameras in the stairwell transmitting in the same manner." Jarod moved knowingly to the chairman's office and threw open the door. Raines wasn't there.
William Raines and Mr. Lyle were in a staff meeting three floors down. The arrival of Jarod and his team had been intentionally scheduled to place them here while Raines was away. His distraught receptionist was undoubtedly on the phone with the wheezing bastard at that exact moment. Jarod estimated three to five minutes before he showed up.
Jarod gazed around the office in distaste. "Gentlemen," the pretender hissed. "Clear this room. Pitch everything."
The sweeper team moved in like a black cloud. Decorative items on the walls were peeled away and tossed into a heap on the floor. Folders and memos on the counter and desk were swept into a trashcan. Drawers were yanked open and emptied onto the growing pile of debris in the center of the office. Mr. Raines' computer and monitor were heaved off their stands, crashing to the floor in an impressive display of sparks.
By the time Raines shuffled into the room four and a half minutes later, the office had been professionally ransacked. A mound of rubbish at Jarod's feet was all that was left of Raines' occupancy. Raines, with Lyle at his side, stood in the doorway, sputtering.
Jarod ignored them both, crossed the room and opened a door in the opposite wall. He peered in quickly at what had once been Brigette's lair. "Parker, you and Mercedes will set up in this connecting office."
"That's my office," Lyle growled.
"Not anymore," the pretender replied in a chilling voice. Striding back across the room, Jarod blew by Lyle and Raines as if they were insects. Glaring into the hallway and back again, Jarod said, "I want the room across the hall swept as well. Get a tech crew up here. I want an isolated server with it's own firewall and internal power system. Set the system up in that office and hook it into a monitor on my desk in here."
Jarod cast a withering glance at Sam. "Don't let them put the wires through a regular conduit. I want them strung across the floor where I can see them."
"Of course, Sir," Sam said obligingly.
"I'll need a second terminal that's connected to the Centre mainframe," Jarod went on. "Get Mr. Broots on this. I want all the arrangements completed before our one o'clock." Turning to Parker he added, "Get it done."
Parker was already dialing her cell phone as she nodded her agreement.
"Mercedes, you're with me," Jarod commanded. As he started to leave the room, Mr. Raines' burly black sweeper, Willie, appeared and blocked his way. Shoving Mercedes aside, Willie grabbed Jarod roughly and moved to pin the pretender's arm behind his back. In a swift counter move, Jarod slid under the larger man's shoulder and pulled away.
Willie went for his gun. But before his pistol was even out of its holster there was the distinct clacking of a half dozen triggers being cocked. Willie found himself staring down the barrels of several guns. Not only Ishmael and his team but also Sam, Parker and even Mercedes were all glaring down the sights of their weapons at the startled sweeper.
Jarod, the only member of his group not pointing a gun, simply reached out and took Willie's sidearm from his stunned grasp. Nonchalantly handing the nine millimeter to Mercedes, Jarod pushed past Willie. As he left the room the pretender said in an offhanded tone, "Omar would you kindly escort this man off the premises? By the way, Willie," Jarod added, turning back toward him for a moment. "You're fired."
"You can't do that," Willie growled, now firmly clasped between two of Ishmael's men.
Jarod smiled one of those beautiful, charming smiles. "Escort him to his car with extreme prejudice," Jarod purred. Then he turned on his heel and left with Scott Manning, Mercedes and two of her sweepers right behind him.
Willie was dragged away leaving Raines and Lyle alone in the room with Miss Parker and Sam. For a moment, Raines glared mutely at the remains of his office while Parker snapped instructions into her cell phone. Parker ended the connection and slid the device into her pocket in a smooth motion. Crossing her arms over her chest she gazed blankly at her adversaries.
"I'm afraid I just haven't the time to chitchat with you two Brainiacs," Parker drawled callously. "As you can see, we have a great deal of work to accomplish. And I simply can't afford to piss off our new chairman."
Raines' head nearly spun around in rage, "Chairman?" he gasped. "The Triumvirate won't tolerate having him in charge."
Parker grinned an icy smile that chilled the air around them. "On the contrary, " she purred. "Our friends in Africa were only too pleased to talk with Jarod." Leaning casually against the empty desk, Parker crossed her long nylon clad legs at the ankle. "Yes, indeed. They had a lovely conversation that went on for hours and hours." She smiled like a cat about to pounce on a bird. "It seems that the Triumvirate had several misconceptions that Jarod willingly helped to rectify."
Lyle swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. If Mercedes had managed to get Jarod into a Triumvirate board meeting, there was no telling how much damage the pretender could have inflicted. Assuming that the genius had only provided bare facts, Raines' position was now tenuous at best. If Jarod had decided to embellish the truth to any degree, Lyle knew that they were in grave danger.
Licking his lips nervously, Lyle thought frantically about his next move. He did have information, insurance so to speak, to be used in case Raines' power base should ever falter. This seemed to be just such an occasion. "I'd like to get a few things from my office," Lyle said as calmly as he could manage.
Parker shrugged one shoulder uncaringly. But as Lyle began to walk toward his office, Sam stepped into his path. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lyle," the sweeper said. "But I can't allow that. This area is off limits by order of the chairman. As a matter of fact, I'm going to have to ask you both to leave this level entirely."
"Don't forget who you are dealing with," Raines hissed dramatically.
Sam was unfazed. "Good advice, Mr. Raines," he said. "You should do the same." Then, holding out one hand, Sam gestured toward the door and escorted the two men into the corridor.
Parker didn't move as she watched Sam disappear into the hallway behind Lyle and Raines. The sweeper was gone for only a minute before he returned. "Well?" she asked him.
"I put them on the elevator myself," Sam said reassuringly.
Parker sighed heavily and slumped with relief. "It's working," she heaved thankfully.
Sam cast her a startled look. "Did you doubt that it would?" he asked.
"Frankly, yes," Parker replied straightening regally. "But don't tell Jarod I said so. This is all going as planned thus far because we caught them off guard. The element of surprise won't work for long."
"It doesn't need to last long," Sam said confidently. "Just long enough."
Parker smirked in amusement. "I didn't realize you were such an optimist, Sam," she chuckled. Sam simply shrugged in reply. Parker nodded in a crisp business-like manner. "Right," she said. "Let's get to work."
--
That afternoon, Lyle found himself being frisked like a common criminal. He'd stepped off the elevator onto the executive level and was startled by the changes that had occurred in the last couple of hours. Where Carla, his receptionist had been sitting this morning, there was now a huge desk mounted with an array of surveillance monitors. One of the sweepers from Mercedes' team was seated in front of the display.
Two additional sweepers immediately shoved Lyle against a wall and began searching him. Lyle craned his neck to look at the men. These two were new. Lyle had never seen the big black men before. When they spoke to each other, it was in a language Lyle did not understand, a fact that made Lyle queasy. Evidently, these were additional sweepers assigned by the Triumvirate.
After taking Lyle's gun, the guards roughly spun him to face the sweeper at the desk. This one was talking into a microphone attached to a headpiece he was wearing. "No Sir," the man was saying in his accented voice. "He is alone." He paused for moment as if listening to instructions, then spoke rapidly in the foreign tongue.
One of the guards grabbed Lyle by the arm and nearly dragged him down the corridor. As they headed toward the chairman's office, Lyle glanced around at the workers scurrying about. A man in blue overalls was on his knees, fastening wires along the baseboards. Another man on a ladder was tightening screws on a camera mount near the ceiling. A technician rushed by carrying a slim monitor.
In the chairman's office the rubble from this morning was gone. The desk had been replaced by a large L-shaped work area with two computers. Broots sat in front of one of the monitors, typing frantically at the keyboard. Comfortable looking furniture had been brought into the room and a large wooden cabinet was installed along one wall. Two workers were busily wiring the cabinet to hold the half-dozen surveillance monitors lined up along the floor.
Jarod, Parker and Mercedes stood in a group near the new desk. Manning still hovered in the background jotting down whatever Jarod asked him to. Before Lyle could get close enough to hear any of their conversation, Jarod silenced them all with an abrupt motion of his hand.
Moving with calculated precision, Jarod looked up and glared at Lyle. "What do you want?" Jarod growled.
"Well," Lyle began as he yanked his arm out of the guard's grip. "I thought we should talk."
Jarod cocked one eyebrow in disbelief.
"Hear me out, Jarod," Lyle added quickly. "There are things I know, people and connections I have that you may find very useful. You need me Jarod. You need me to do the things you can't, the things you don't want to do."
Jarod crossed his arms over his chest. "You want to do my dirty work, eh?" the pretender asked in chilly amusement. "How charitable of you."
Lyle shrugged. "It's got to be done, Jarod. And you know as well as I that you haven't got the stomach for it."
"I've got to give you credit, Lyle," Jarod said chuckling coldly. "You've managed to surprise me. I figured you'd wait at least a day or two before abandoning Nosferatu. Here you're bailing and headed for the opposite side in only a fraction of the time I had anticipated."
"It's his talent for self preservation," Parker commented snidely. "He's covering his ass."
"Mmm," Jarod grunted noncommittally.
"Think of it, Jarod," Lyle argued. "If we combine our forces there's no one who can stand in our way. The Centre can be ours."
Jarod's voice was icy as he said, "The Centre is mine. Always has been. It just took me a while to figure that out. There's nothing you can bring to the table to further improve my position, Lyle. You are expendable."
Lyle clenched his fists and glared at Jarod's irritatingly smug smile. "So what are you going to do with me?" he asked.
"Well, I could have you put out of my misery," Jarod began. "Either of these lovely ladies would be only too happy to put a bullet between your eyes." Lyle's gaze flickered worriedly from Mercedes to Parker. The darker woman smiled serenely, making Lyle wonder what thoughts were running through her head to make her seem so content.
"You're nailing them both. Aren't you, Jarod?" Lyle asked cruelly. It was a feeble attempt to shock the pretender, throw him off balance and provoke a response. Lyle was desperate to regain some measure of control over this situation.
Jarod simply smiled knowingly. The indignant rage Lyle had been expecting didn't come, not even from his sister. "Damn it," Lyle snarled glaring at Miss Parker in astonishment. "You let the lab-rat into your bed!"
Parker laughed wryly, reached into her pocket and pulled out a single dollar bill. Calmly placing the money into Jarod's outstretched palm, Parker shook her head. "You were right, Jarod." She sighed. "His mind is in the gutter."
Jarod carefully folded his prize and tucked it away. With a shrug he said, "For Lyle, everything can be broken down into three basic necessities: money, power and sex. And any combination of two can get him the third. Once you understand that about his personality, anticipating his actions becomes simple."
Mercedes cocked her head curiously at Lyle. "Perhaps we could keep him around for entertainment value," she commented.
Lyle felt liquid trickle across one clenched palm and he realized that his fingernails had cut into his flesh. Closing his eyes for a moment he took a deep calming breath and battled to control the anger rushing through him. It was time to face facts. These three were toying with him. They could have him killed at any moment. Holding on to his position of power at The Centre was no longer Lyle's goal. He was going to have to concentrate on staying alive.
"I have something in mind for our Mr. Lyle," Jarod said in an eerie tone. "I think he can be of some use to us."
Lyle blinked in surprise. When he realized that Mercedes and his sister were unfazed by Jarod's remark, Lyle began to understand how well prepared Jarod and his team were. The pretender had already discussed this with his people. Lyle's fate had already been set.
"Here's the deal," Jarod said bluntly. "You cooperate fully and unquestioningly. I'll assign a new sweeper to watch over you, someone of my choosing. You may keep your security access."
Lyle frowned. This was too easy. Jarod was up to something. "I expected you would want me thrown into the darkest pit you could find."
"The thought had occurred to me," Jarod said in a tone as hard as granite. "But locking you up would provide you with an alibi. Then you would be worthless to me as a scapegoat. Should our little coup bring about the attentions of the legal authorities, you will be offered up as our sacrificial lamb."
Lyle glanced nervously at the trio before him.
Jarod shrugged. "It's your choice, Lyle. I have plenty of proof to hand over to the District Attorney. So either cooperate and go to prison when I choose to send you, or turn me down and go now. "
Lyle sighed with resignation then nodded his agreement. He hung his head dejectedly and stared at the floor.
"Good," Jarod exclaimed. "But I'm afraid I must make a few more provisions." Lyle's head snapped back up angrily. Jarod smiled and strolled casually to Lyle's side. Putting an arm around the other man's shoulders Jarod purred in a hushed voice, "Your extracurricular activities will cease."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lyle snapped.
"I know about your collection in the woods," Jarod soothed liltingly. "I know about the panic room in your closet." Lyle felt the blood drain from his face as the pretender leaned in close and whispered softly into Lyle's ear. "I know about the shed. I know what Daddy did to us in the shed."
Lyle, pale and sweating, began to tremble.
"I know about the dogs," Jarod cooed in a singsong voice. "I know about the dogs, Bobby."
"Stop it, Jarod," Lyle hissed.
Jarod tenderly took Lyle's face in his hands. "Bowman deserves to rot in that cell for eternity for what he did to you, Bobby," Jarod said gently in a voice so filled with compassion that it caused Lyle pain. "But Jimmy Radlaw was your friend, he trusted you. You will have to pay for what you did to Jimmy. Someday you will pay."
Lyle jerked away from the pretender. Shaking so badly he could barely stand, Lyle turned away, struggling against the wave of despair that had been conjured within him. To have Jarod so far inside his head, so completely aware of his greatest vulnerability, was Lyle's most ultimate defeat. Clinging to a filing cabinet for support, Lyle gasped for air like a drowning man. Shooting an angry, tearful look at the pretender, Lyle rasped, "You told her?"
Jarod stood silently with his arms at his sides for a moment then shook his head. "No."
"What do you want, Jarod?" Lyle asked in resignation. "I will do whatever you want."
"I own you," Jarod said in a hard blunt voice.
"Yes," Lyle whispered.
"There will be payback involved," Jarod said simply. "You and I have unfinished business."
"Yes," Lyle admitted softly.
"I can torture you for days without even touching you," Jarod boasted.
"So I have noticed," was Lyle's wry response.
"Do we fully understand one another?" the pretender asked.
"Yes," Lyle paused before adding, "Mr. Chairman." Jarod's bright answering smile was an added touch of cruelty.
Sam stepped to Jarod's side, abruptly reminding Lyle that the room was full of minor employees, all of whom had just witnessed his capitulation. Shame made Lyle wince as though he'd been lashed with a whip.
"Excuse me, Sir," Sam said. "But I've been informed that your one o'clock appointment has arrived in the lobby."
"E.T.A.?" Jarod asked.
Sam murmured into the radio headset he wore, and waited only a heartbeat for an answer. "They are in the elevator. Three minutes tops. Would you like them delayed at the security station?"
"No, no." Jarod responded. "They are our guests. Treat them as such." Looking about the room Jarod added, "Let's go people, everyone out. I've got a business to run. Sam, bring me someone to keep an eye on Lyle."
With a sudden scuttle of activity, the workers and technicians vanished. Lyle waited against the wall for his guard to arrive. He took the opportunity to pull himself together, and had nearly managed to achieve a semblance of calm when the office door opened and Jarod's guests arrived. Lyle was thrown completely off balance again as he recognized the men. Terror pounded through him and he became aware that his life was still in jeopardy.
Jarod bowed. "Welcome, Tanaka-san," he greeted the Yakuza crime lord in the man's native tongue.
Tommy Tanaka bowed in return.
"Hello, Tommy," Miss Parker purred in Japanese as she stepped forward and kissed him.
Tanaka smiled at her. "Parker," he murmured. "I was delighted by your invitation." His eyes turned hard as he looked toward Jarod. "But I am offended by the presence of the traitorous Mr. Lyle."
Lyle, not understanding the dialect, stiffened at the mentioning of his name. He didn't have the first clue what they were saying and that frightened him.
"Forgive me, Tanaka-san," Jarod apologized. "The whelp will be escorted away momentarily. Or, if you prefer, I could give him to you as a sign of friendship between us."
Tanaka stiffened. "There is no friendship between us, Pretender." He snapped. "It is because of you that my father languishes in prison."
"Tommy," Parker soothed. "Jarod has nothing against you. You were simply caught in the crossfire between him and my brother. Lyle besmirched Jarod's honor in using that simulation to abduct the Barrett woman. Freeing her was a matter of principle."
"If nothing else," Jarod said. "The situation must have at least shown you how capable I am."
Tanaka frowned thoughtfully. "Yes," he agreed. "And how dangerous you can be when double crossed."
"I have no wish to do battle with the Yakuza," Jarod explained. "It would be a costly and time consuming feud for both sides. I would like to take this opportunity to assure the Yakuza that I mean them no disrespect."
Tanaka raised one eyebrow questioningly. "But?" he asked.
Jarod grinned wryly. "But, under my command, The Centre will be much more discriminating in its endeavors. There will be no further business dealings between us unless they are of a legitimate nature. Stay out of my affairs, and I will stay out of yours."
Tanaka glanced warily from Parker to Jarod. "That much seems obvious," he said.
"So if Mr. Raines should approach you, or any of your associates," Jarod began.
"That skeletal dog is unworthy of us," Tanaka growled. "His pledge means even less than Lyle's."
"Jarod is true to his word, Tommy," Parker said emphatically.
Tanaka gazed tenderly at Miss Parker then turned to Jarod. "You have a powerful champion, Pretender," he chuckled as he ran his fingertips down Miss Parker's back. "Her trust is difficult to earn."
"I know," Jarod smiled. "We have an understanding then?" he asked.
"Agreed," Tanaka nodded. "There will be no interference from the Yakuza."
Jarod bowed deeply as a sign of respect. "I am honored, Tanaka-san, to have one less enemy. Perhaps, one day you will consider us friends."
Tanaka snickered. "Your employer has courage, Parker. And a lot of nerve."
Parker hugged Tanaka's arm and laid her head on his shoulder. "You have no idea," she laughed.
Kissing Parker on the forehead, Tanaka sighed. "Let me buy you lunch, Parker."
"Can't," she said. "There is so much to do today. But if you are staying in town for a while, we could meet for dinner," she added seductively.
"Alas, I can not," Tanaka grumbled. "I must return to Tokyo this afternoon. My wife is expecting our first child any day. I must be there when the boy is born."
"Of course," Parker agreed. "We'll do it some other time."
Tanaka turned to Jarod and bowed. "It has been an honor, Mr. Chairman."
"The honor is mine," Jarod responded with an answering bow. "Congratulations on the impending birth of your son, Tanaka-san. May he be blessed with happiness and good health."
Tommy Tanaka and his men left the room without a word of English having been spoken the entire time. As a result, Lyle could only guess at what had transpired. He had no way of knowing how innocuous the conversation had been.
Jarod turned to Miss Parker and in Japanese said, "Make sure we send a really nice gift once the baby comes." She nodded in response. Jarod was logging into one of the computers on his desk, seemingly ignoring Lyle's presence, when another sweeper entered the room.
"Yes?" Jarod asked as the man approached him.
"I'm here for Lyle," the sweeper said.
With an uncaring flutter of his hand, Jarod dismissed them both.
Without a word, the guard led Lyle into the corridor and down the elevator. When the lift reached the lobby level, the doors swished open to reveal Mr. Raines standing there.
"Lyle," he wheezed. Glaring suspiciously at the accompanying sweeper, Raines asked, "What more have you learned?"
Lyle's derisive laughter came out like a witch's cackle. "I've learned that you have seriously underestimated your little science experiment," Lyle said. "And you don't stand a chance in Hell against him."
"What do you mean?" Raines pried warily as the sweeper prodded Lyle into motion.
Lyle glared angrily at the creature that had spawned him as he went passed it. "You have too many enemies, Pops. And Jarod is in cahoots with every one of them." Lyle called over his shoulder as he walked away, "The war is over and you haven't even found the first battle yet."
-
of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. No profit has been made.you know the drill.
Of Envy and Darkness
11/30/03 Part5 - By Phenyx
-
Jarod sighed and made a conscious effort not to adjust his tie again. He stared morosely out the tinted window and tried to find some semblance of calm. The roadside seemed to blur passed with alarming speed, causing Jarod to wonder if the limo driver might be exceeding the legal limit. The vehicle turned a corner and Jarod realized that they were less than ten minutes from their destination.
Panic started clawing at his lungs. 'Bad idea, bad idea,' whispered insidiously through his mind. 'Stop it, NOW!' Jarod ordered himself silently. 'Breathe J-man. Breathe. In, out. In, out,' he thought. In a valiant attempt to steady his nerves, Jarod began counting any vertical item he could see out the window.
Parker sat quietly in the leather seat opposite the pretender and tried not to watch him fret. On the surface, Jarod seemed relatively composed. Only the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against one thigh indicated otherwise. But Parker knew better. She could see his discomfort increasing with each passing moment.
Mercedes, sitting next to Jarod on his right, placed one hand over his jittering fingers. Sensing his tension, she said gently, "Jarod." Her voice was soft and soothing. "Settle down. In order for this to work, you need to believe that it will."
"Technically," Jarod said in a flat voice. "What I believe is irrelevant. All that matters is the impression that I project."
"You mustn't show even the slightest trace of doubt," Mercedes said firmly. "If you hesitate, they will not accept your command." She tenderly stroked a hand down Jarod's arm and then plucked a bit of fluff from his pant leg. "You need to behave as though you belong there. Can you do that, Jarod?"
"He can," Parker stated frankly. Jarod's deep brown eyes flashed nervously at her. "You can," she said more forcefully in reassurance.
"They won't hurt you," Mercedes promised. "They can't."
"Yes they can," Jarod said in a soft voice. "They just can't kill me."
"They'll have to get through me first," Parker growled in a soft but dangerous voice.
Jarod blinked at her in surprise for a moment before suddenly breaking into a huge grin. "I am delighted to have you on my side, Miss Parker. Much safer than being on your shit list."
Parker smiled sweetly. "Being on the same team doesn't exclude you from my list, Pez-head."
Jarod chuckled at the light jest but his laughter quickly vanished as the vehicle drew to a stop in front of the huge stone edifice of The Centre. The passengers waited for a moment while Sam and the sweeper team swarmed from the car that had parked directly in front of them.
Mercedes turned toward Jarod and gently straightened his tie to her liking. "Just remember Jarod, 'That which does not kill us, makes us stronger,'" she quoted.
Jarod's gaze flickered toward Parker once again. "Just call me Hercules," he murmured wryly.
"Cute, Jarod," Parker smirked. "Not funny, but cute."
The door opened and Omar, one of Ishmael's men, held it patiently as Mercedes stepped out of the car. Parker rose gracefully and leaned toward the exit. "Let's get this show on the road, Mr. Chairman," she said in an abruptly cold tone.
Jarod took a deep breath and followed Parker onto the pavement. He climbed the stairs leading to the entrance, with the ladies only a step behind him. Sam and Ishmael took the point position while the remaining sweepers followed up the rear. As a group they moved with a fine-tuned, military precision, the result of hours worth of practice done at Jarod's insistence.
The pretender's obsession with detail paid off. As the team walked through the double doors into the lobby, their movements were smooth and somewhat intimidating. They headed straight for the elevators, heedless of the stunned gasps around them.
As Sam punched the button to call the elevator, Jarod turned and spotted a young man standing a few yards away. Young, thin and very fair, the man wore spectacles and was carrying a clipboard.
"You," Jarod snapped at him. "What's your name?"
"Scott Manning," he replied.
"What's your assignment?" Jarod asked.
"I'm a reports technician in accounting," Manning answered.
Jarod's hard gaze studied the pale man carefully. The truth was that Jarod already had an in depth knowledge of Scott Manning. He knew where Manning worked, his security level, his associates and even his favorite foods. Jarod knew that Manning had access to expense reports and detailed vouchers and he knew that Manning was no idiot.
"Today you'll work for me," Jarod commanded in a stern voice that allowed no room for defiance.
Manning blinked for only a moment before answering, "Yes, Sir." Of course, there had been no doubt that Manning would comply. The thin young man was in actuality one of the dozen or more people who had been approached by Mercedes and Miss Parker the week before.
In the past year Scott Manning had learned things that he had never wanted to know. Anyone who sees enough invoicing and expense reports learns, over time, to interpret some of the things that one sees. Manning had gradually become aware of a horrifying trend in the documents crossing his desk. Due to a lower security level, he was unable to find out exact details but the generalities were enough to give him nightmares.
Manning, a decade older than his smooth looks implied, was plagued constantly by his conscience. As the months had passed since Mr. Parker's death, Scott had become more obsessed with the need to stop what was happening around him. Yet he had been unsure of how to proceed. Mercedes, using her gift, had learned all this about Manning as she brushed passed him in a crowded cafeteria one day.
Scott Manning was not alone. There were dozens of Centre employees, Sydney and Broots among them, who were terribly unhappy with their current situation but unable to alter it. Disturbed by the environment yet afraid to break free of it, these people anguished at the evil around them. Each suffered alone not realizing how great their numbers had become. Mercedes and Parker had skillfully chosen from this group the most trustworthy, desperate employees.
Jarod had carefully reviewed all the files for these people and memorized their photographs. He would know them each on sight. They had been strategically planted throughout the building so that Jarod would be sure to come into contact with them at some point during the day.
"Come with us," the pretender said as the elevator doors opened. Without hesitation, Manning stepped into place behind Jarod as the team piled into the lift. The young man had accepted Jarod's authority without question. At least, that was how it seemed to the audience of other employees standing in the lobby.
Throughout the day as Jarod encountered each of these pre-qualified individuals, he would demand some show of obedience. Due to Miss Parker's advance coaching, they would obey with alacrity, accepting Jarod's orders unfailingly. To those watching, it would instill the belief that Jarod's power was indisputable. Human beings tend to lean toward conformity. Once a handful of employees had joined Jarod's faction, others would be more likely to follow. The deck was already stacked in the pretender's favor.
The elevator rose to the executive level of the tower. When the doors slid open, Jarod stepped out into a wide carpeted corridor leading to the chairman's office. He strode past the receptionist's desk ignoring protests of the girl sitting in the chair. Sam quickly overpowered the single guard on duty in the hallway.
Jarod turned to the pale young man with the clipboard and said, "Manning, write everything down. I want to document every change we make." The pretender then began barking orders as he moved down the hall. "Ishmael, the security on this level stinks. We need additional cameras, there," Jarod pointed. "And there. I want them to transmit video and sound to a security station located in place of the receptionist's desk. I'll want a feed sent into our offices as well. We'll see anyone who comes up this corridor. No one sneaks up on us."
With a glance toward the far end of the passage Jarod added, "We'll need cameras in the stairwell transmitting in the same manner." Jarod moved knowingly to the chairman's office and threw open the door. Raines wasn't there.
William Raines and Mr. Lyle were in a staff meeting three floors down. The arrival of Jarod and his team had been intentionally scheduled to place them here while Raines was away. His distraught receptionist was undoubtedly on the phone with the wheezing bastard at that exact moment. Jarod estimated three to five minutes before he showed up.
Jarod gazed around the office in distaste. "Gentlemen," the pretender hissed. "Clear this room. Pitch everything."
The sweeper team moved in like a black cloud. Decorative items on the walls were peeled away and tossed into a heap on the floor. Folders and memos on the counter and desk were swept into a trashcan. Drawers were yanked open and emptied onto the growing pile of debris in the center of the office. Mr. Raines' computer and monitor were heaved off their stands, crashing to the floor in an impressive display of sparks.
By the time Raines shuffled into the room four and a half minutes later, the office had been professionally ransacked. A mound of rubbish at Jarod's feet was all that was left of Raines' occupancy. Raines, with Lyle at his side, stood in the doorway, sputtering.
Jarod ignored them both, crossed the room and opened a door in the opposite wall. He peered in quickly at what had once been Brigette's lair. "Parker, you and Mercedes will set up in this connecting office."
"That's my office," Lyle growled.
"Not anymore," the pretender replied in a chilling voice. Striding back across the room, Jarod blew by Lyle and Raines as if they were insects. Glaring into the hallway and back again, Jarod said, "I want the room across the hall swept as well. Get a tech crew up here. I want an isolated server with it's own firewall and internal power system. Set the system up in that office and hook it into a monitor on my desk in here."
Jarod cast a withering glance at Sam. "Don't let them put the wires through a regular conduit. I want them strung across the floor where I can see them."
"Of course, Sir," Sam said obligingly.
"I'll need a second terminal that's connected to the Centre mainframe," Jarod went on. "Get Mr. Broots on this. I want all the arrangements completed before our one o'clock." Turning to Parker he added, "Get it done."
Parker was already dialing her cell phone as she nodded her agreement.
"Mercedes, you're with me," Jarod commanded. As he started to leave the room, Mr. Raines' burly black sweeper, Willie, appeared and blocked his way. Shoving Mercedes aside, Willie grabbed Jarod roughly and moved to pin the pretender's arm behind his back. In a swift counter move, Jarod slid under the larger man's shoulder and pulled away.
Willie went for his gun. But before his pistol was even out of its holster there was the distinct clacking of a half dozen triggers being cocked. Willie found himself staring down the barrels of several guns. Not only Ishmael and his team but also Sam, Parker and even Mercedes were all glaring down the sights of their weapons at the startled sweeper.
Jarod, the only member of his group not pointing a gun, simply reached out and took Willie's sidearm from his stunned grasp. Nonchalantly handing the nine millimeter to Mercedes, Jarod pushed past Willie. As he left the room the pretender said in an offhanded tone, "Omar would you kindly escort this man off the premises? By the way, Willie," Jarod added, turning back toward him for a moment. "You're fired."
"You can't do that," Willie growled, now firmly clasped between two of Ishmael's men.
Jarod smiled one of those beautiful, charming smiles. "Escort him to his car with extreme prejudice," Jarod purred. Then he turned on his heel and left with Scott Manning, Mercedes and two of her sweepers right behind him.
Willie was dragged away leaving Raines and Lyle alone in the room with Miss Parker and Sam. For a moment, Raines glared mutely at the remains of his office while Parker snapped instructions into her cell phone. Parker ended the connection and slid the device into her pocket in a smooth motion. Crossing her arms over her chest she gazed blankly at her adversaries.
"I'm afraid I just haven't the time to chitchat with you two Brainiacs," Parker drawled callously. "As you can see, we have a great deal of work to accomplish. And I simply can't afford to piss off our new chairman."
Raines' head nearly spun around in rage, "Chairman?" he gasped. "The Triumvirate won't tolerate having him in charge."
Parker grinned an icy smile that chilled the air around them. "On the contrary, " she purred. "Our friends in Africa were only too pleased to talk with Jarod." Leaning casually against the empty desk, Parker crossed her long nylon clad legs at the ankle. "Yes, indeed. They had a lovely conversation that went on for hours and hours." She smiled like a cat about to pounce on a bird. "It seems that the Triumvirate had several misconceptions that Jarod willingly helped to rectify."
Lyle swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. If Mercedes had managed to get Jarod into a Triumvirate board meeting, there was no telling how much damage the pretender could have inflicted. Assuming that the genius had only provided bare facts, Raines' position was now tenuous at best. If Jarod had decided to embellish the truth to any degree, Lyle knew that they were in grave danger.
Licking his lips nervously, Lyle thought frantically about his next move. He did have information, insurance so to speak, to be used in case Raines' power base should ever falter. This seemed to be just such an occasion. "I'd like to get a few things from my office," Lyle said as calmly as he could manage.
Parker shrugged one shoulder uncaringly. But as Lyle began to walk toward his office, Sam stepped into his path. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lyle," the sweeper said. "But I can't allow that. This area is off limits by order of the chairman. As a matter of fact, I'm going to have to ask you both to leave this level entirely."
"Don't forget who you are dealing with," Raines hissed dramatically.
Sam was unfazed. "Good advice, Mr. Raines," he said. "You should do the same." Then, holding out one hand, Sam gestured toward the door and escorted the two men into the corridor.
Parker didn't move as she watched Sam disappear into the hallway behind Lyle and Raines. The sweeper was gone for only a minute before he returned. "Well?" she asked him.
"I put them on the elevator myself," Sam said reassuringly.
Parker sighed heavily and slumped with relief. "It's working," she heaved thankfully.
Sam cast her a startled look. "Did you doubt that it would?" he asked.
"Frankly, yes," Parker replied straightening regally. "But don't tell Jarod I said so. This is all going as planned thus far because we caught them off guard. The element of surprise won't work for long."
"It doesn't need to last long," Sam said confidently. "Just long enough."
Parker smirked in amusement. "I didn't realize you were such an optimist, Sam," she chuckled. Sam simply shrugged in reply. Parker nodded in a crisp business-like manner. "Right," she said. "Let's get to work."
--
That afternoon, Lyle found himself being frisked like a common criminal. He'd stepped off the elevator onto the executive level and was startled by the changes that had occurred in the last couple of hours. Where Carla, his receptionist had been sitting this morning, there was now a huge desk mounted with an array of surveillance monitors. One of the sweepers from Mercedes' team was seated in front of the display.
Two additional sweepers immediately shoved Lyle against a wall and began searching him. Lyle craned his neck to look at the men. These two were new. Lyle had never seen the big black men before. When they spoke to each other, it was in a language Lyle did not understand, a fact that made Lyle queasy. Evidently, these were additional sweepers assigned by the Triumvirate.
After taking Lyle's gun, the guards roughly spun him to face the sweeper at the desk. This one was talking into a microphone attached to a headpiece he was wearing. "No Sir," the man was saying in his accented voice. "He is alone." He paused for moment as if listening to instructions, then spoke rapidly in the foreign tongue.
One of the guards grabbed Lyle by the arm and nearly dragged him down the corridor. As they headed toward the chairman's office, Lyle glanced around at the workers scurrying about. A man in blue overalls was on his knees, fastening wires along the baseboards. Another man on a ladder was tightening screws on a camera mount near the ceiling. A technician rushed by carrying a slim monitor.
In the chairman's office the rubble from this morning was gone. The desk had been replaced by a large L-shaped work area with two computers. Broots sat in front of one of the monitors, typing frantically at the keyboard. Comfortable looking furniture had been brought into the room and a large wooden cabinet was installed along one wall. Two workers were busily wiring the cabinet to hold the half-dozen surveillance monitors lined up along the floor.
Jarod, Parker and Mercedes stood in a group near the new desk. Manning still hovered in the background jotting down whatever Jarod asked him to. Before Lyle could get close enough to hear any of their conversation, Jarod silenced them all with an abrupt motion of his hand.
Moving with calculated precision, Jarod looked up and glared at Lyle. "What do you want?" Jarod growled.
"Well," Lyle began as he yanked his arm out of the guard's grip. "I thought we should talk."
Jarod cocked one eyebrow in disbelief.
"Hear me out, Jarod," Lyle added quickly. "There are things I know, people and connections I have that you may find very useful. You need me Jarod. You need me to do the things you can't, the things you don't want to do."
Jarod crossed his arms over his chest. "You want to do my dirty work, eh?" the pretender asked in chilly amusement. "How charitable of you."
Lyle shrugged. "It's got to be done, Jarod. And you know as well as I that you haven't got the stomach for it."
"I've got to give you credit, Lyle," Jarod said chuckling coldly. "You've managed to surprise me. I figured you'd wait at least a day or two before abandoning Nosferatu. Here you're bailing and headed for the opposite side in only a fraction of the time I had anticipated."
"It's his talent for self preservation," Parker commented snidely. "He's covering his ass."
"Mmm," Jarod grunted noncommittally.
"Think of it, Jarod," Lyle argued. "If we combine our forces there's no one who can stand in our way. The Centre can be ours."
Jarod's voice was icy as he said, "The Centre is mine. Always has been. It just took me a while to figure that out. There's nothing you can bring to the table to further improve my position, Lyle. You are expendable."
Lyle clenched his fists and glared at Jarod's irritatingly smug smile. "So what are you going to do with me?" he asked.
"Well, I could have you put out of my misery," Jarod began. "Either of these lovely ladies would be only too happy to put a bullet between your eyes." Lyle's gaze flickered worriedly from Mercedes to Parker. The darker woman smiled serenely, making Lyle wonder what thoughts were running through her head to make her seem so content.
"You're nailing them both. Aren't you, Jarod?" Lyle asked cruelly. It was a feeble attempt to shock the pretender, throw him off balance and provoke a response. Lyle was desperate to regain some measure of control over this situation.
Jarod simply smiled knowingly. The indignant rage Lyle had been expecting didn't come, not even from his sister. "Damn it," Lyle snarled glaring at Miss Parker in astonishment. "You let the lab-rat into your bed!"
Parker laughed wryly, reached into her pocket and pulled out a single dollar bill. Calmly placing the money into Jarod's outstretched palm, Parker shook her head. "You were right, Jarod." She sighed. "His mind is in the gutter."
Jarod carefully folded his prize and tucked it away. With a shrug he said, "For Lyle, everything can be broken down into three basic necessities: money, power and sex. And any combination of two can get him the third. Once you understand that about his personality, anticipating his actions becomes simple."
Mercedes cocked her head curiously at Lyle. "Perhaps we could keep him around for entertainment value," she commented.
Lyle felt liquid trickle across one clenched palm and he realized that his fingernails had cut into his flesh. Closing his eyes for a moment he took a deep calming breath and battled to control the anger rushing through him. It was time to face facts. These three were toying with him. They could have him killed at any moment. Holding on to his position of power at The Centre was no longer Lyle's goal. He was going to have to concentrate on staying alive.
"I have something in mind for our Mr. Lyle," Jarod said in an eerie tone. "I think he can be of some use to us."
Lyle blinked in surprise. When he realized that Mercedes and his sister were unfazed by Jarod's remark, Lyle began to understand how well prepared Jarod and his team were. The pretender had already discussed this with his people. Lyle's fate had already been set.
"Here's the deal," Jarod said bluntly. "You cooperate fully and unquestioningly. I'll assign a new sweeper to watch over you, someone of my choosing. You may keep your security access."
Lyle frowned. This was too easy. Jarod was up to something. "I expected you would want me thrown into the darkest pit you could find."
"The thought had occurred to me," Jarod said in a tone as hard as granite. "But locking you up would provide you with an alibi. Then you would be worthless to me as a scapegoat. Should our little coup bring about the attentions of the legal authorities, you will be offered up as our sacrificial lamb."
Lyle glanced nervously at the trio before him.
Jarod shrugged. "It's your choice, Lyle. I have plenty of proof to hand over to the District Attorney. So either cooperate and go to prison when I choose to send you, or turn me down and go now. "
Lyle sighed with resignation then nodded his agreement. He hung his head dejectedly and stared at the floor.
"Good," Jarod exclaimed. "But I'm afraid I must make a few more provisions." Lyle's head snapped back up angrily. Jarod smiled and strolled casually to Lyle's side. Putting an arm around the other man's shoulders Jarod purred in a hushed voice, "Your extracurricular activities will cease."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lyle snapped.
"I know about your collection in the woods," Jarod soothed liltingly. "I know about the panic room in your closet." Lyle felt the blood drain from his face as the pretender leaned in close and whispered softly into Lyle's ear. "I know about the shed. I know what Daddy did to us in the shed."
Lyle, pale and sweating, began to tremble.
"I know about the dogs," Jarod cooed in a singsong voice. "I know about the dogs, Bobby."
"Stop it, Jarod," Lyle hissed.
Jarod tenderly took Lyle's face in his hands. "Bowman deserves to rot in that cell for eternity for what he did to you, Bobby," Jarod said gently in a voice so filled with compassion that it caused Lyle pain. "But Jimmy Radlaw was your friend, he trusted you. You will have to pay for what you did to Jimmy. Someday you will pay."
Lyle jerked away from the pretender. Shaking so badly he could barely stand, Lyle turned away, struggling against the wave of despair that had been conjured within him. To have Jarod so far inside his head, so completely aware of his greatest vulnerability, was Lyle's most ultimate defeat. Clinging to a filing cabinet for support, Lyle gasped for air like a drowning man. Shooting an angry, tearful look at the pretender, Lyle rasped, "You told her?"
Jarod stood silently with his arms at his sides for a moment then shook his head. "No."
"What do you want, Jarod?" Lyle asked in resignation. "I will do whatever you want."
"I own you," Jarod said in a hard blunt voice.
"Yes," Lyle whispered.
"There will be payback involved," Jarod said simply. "You and I have unfinished business."
"Yes," Lyle admitted softly.
"I can torture you for days without even touching you," Jarod boasted.
"So I have noticed," was Lyle's wry response.
"Do we fully understand one another?" the pretender asked.
"Yes," Lyle paused before adding, "Mr. Chairman." Jarod's bright answering smile was an added touch of cruelty.
Sam stepped to Jarod's side, abruptly reminding Lyle that the room was full of minor employees, all of whom had just witnessed his capitulation. Shame made Lyle wince as though he'd been lashed with a whip.
"Excuse me, Sir," Sam said. "But I've been informed that your one o'clock appointment has arrived in the lobby."
"E.T.A.?" Jarod asked.
Sam murmured into the radio headset he wore, and waited only a heartbeat for an answer. "They are in the elevator. Three minutes tops. Would you like them delayed at the security station?"
"No, no." Jarod responded. "They are our guests. Treat them as such." Looking about the room Jarod added, "Let's go people, everyone out. I've got a business to run. Sam, bring me someone to keep an eye on Lyle."
With a sudden scuttle of activity, the workers and technicians vanished. Lyle waited against the wall for his guard to arrive. He took the opportunity to pull himself together, and had nearly managed to achieve a semblance of calm when the office door opened and Jarod's guests arrived. Lyle was thrown completely off balance again as he recognized the men. Terror pounded through him and he became aware that his life was still in jeopardy.
Jarod bowed. "Welcome, Tanaka-san," he greeted the Yakuza crime lord in the man's native tongue.
Tommy Tanaka bowed in return.
"Hello, Tommy," Miss Parker purred in Japanese as she stepped forward and kissed him.
Tanaka smiled at her. "Parker," he murmured. "I was delighted by your invitation." His eyes turned hard as he looked toward Jarod. "But I am offended by the presence of the traitorous Mr. Lyle."
Lyle, not understanding the dialect, stiffened at the mentioning of his name. He didn't have the first clue what they were saying and that frightened him.
"Forgive me, Tanaka-san," Jarod apologized. "The whelp will be escorted away momentarily. Or, if you prefer, I could give him to you as a sign of friendship between us."
Tanaka stiffened. "There is no friendship between us, Pretender." He snapped. "It is because of you that my father languishes in prison."
"Tommy," Parker soothed. "Jarod has nothing against you. You were simply caught in the crossfire between him and my brother. Lyle besmirched Jarod's honor in using that simulation to abduct the Barrett woman. Freeing her was a matter of principle."
"If nothing else," Jarod said. "The situation must have at least shown you how capable I am."
Tanaka frowned thoughtfully. "Yes," he agreed. "And how dangerous you can be when double crossed."
"I have no wish to do battle with the Yakuza," Jarod explained. "It would be a costly and time consuming feud for both sides. I would like to take this opportunity to assure the Yakuza that I mean them no disrespect."
Tanaka raised one eyebrow questioningly. "But?" he asked.
Jarod grinned wryly. "But, under my command, The Centre will be much more discriminating in its endeavors. There will be no further business dealings between us unless they are of a legitimate nature. Stay out of my affairs, and I will stay out of yours."
Tanaka glanced warily from Parker to Jarod. "That much seems obvious," he said.
"So if Mr. Raines should approach you, or any of your associates," Jarod began.
"That skeletal dog is unworthy of us," Tanaka growled. "His pledge means even less than Lyle's."
"Jarod is true to his word, Tommy," Parker said emphatically.
Tanaka gazed tenderly at Miss Parker then turned to Jarod. "You have a powerful champion, Pretender," he chuckled as he ran his fingertips down Miss Parker's back. "Her trust is difficult to earn."
"I know," Jarod smiled. "We have an understanding then?" he asked.
"Agreed," Tanaka nodded. "There will be no interference from the Yakuza."
Jarod bowed deeply as a sign of respect. "I am honored, Tanaka-san, to have one less enemy. Perhaps, one day you will consider us friends."
Tanaka snickered. "Your employer has courage, Parker. And a lot of nerve."
Parker hugged Tanaka's arm and laid her head on his shoulder. "You have no idea," she laughed.
Kissing Parker on the forehead, Tanaka sighed. "Let me buy you lunch, Parker."
"Can't," she said. "There is so much to do today. But if you are staying in town for a while, we could meet for dinner," she added seductively.
"Alas, I can not," Tanaka grumbled. "I must return to Tokyo this afternoon. My wife is expecting our first child any day. I must be there when the boy is born."
"Of course," Parker agreed. "We'll do it some other time."
Tanaka turned to Jarod and bowed. "It has been an honor, Mr. Chairman."
"The honor is mine," Jarod responded with an answering bow. "Congratulations on the impending birth of your son, Tanaka-san. May he be blessed with happiness and good health."
Tommy Tanaka and his men left the room without a word of English having been spoken the entire time. As a result, Lyle could only guess at what had transpired. He had no way of knowing how innocuous the conversation had been.
Jarod turned to Miss Parker and in Japanese said, "Make sure we send a really nice gift once the baby comes." She nodded in response. Jarod was logging into one of the computers on his desk, seemingly ignoring Lyle's presence, when another sweeper entered the room.
"Yes?" Jarod asked as the man approached him.
"I'm here for Lyle," the sweeper said.
With an uncaring flutter of his hand, Jarod dismissed them both.
Without a word, the guard led Lyle into the corridor and down the elevator. When the lift reached the lobby level, the doors swished open to reveal Mr. Raines standing there.
"Lyle," he wheezed. Glaring suspiciously at the accompanying sweeper, Raines asked, "What more have you learned?"
Lyle's derisive laughter came out like a witch's cackle. "I've learned that you have seriously underestimated your little science experiment," Lyle said. "And you don't stand a chance in Hell against him."
"What do you mean?" Raines pried warily as the sweeper prodded Lyle into motion.
Lyle glared angrily at the creature that had spawned him as he went passed it. "You have too many enemies, Pops. And Jarod is in cahoots with every one of them." Lyle called over his shoulder as he walked away, "The war is over and you haven't even found the first battle yet."
-
