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Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
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Chapter 10
Shoreview apartments
“Emily, what are you going to do,” Jessie asked her friend. Emily was pacing up and down. She turned to Jessie and finally seated herself next to her.
“I’m not sure yet but Jarod needs my help. I need to do something.”
“What about your mom. Can’t you phone her?”
“Not until tomorrow. This is so frustrating,” she groaned.
“Wait, I have an idea. Why don’t I contact Jarod? Those guys don’t know me or that I know you. That way I can find out what is going on with your brother without him thinking that he is putting your life in danger.”
“Jessie, I don’t know. It’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”
“Not if I’m careful. After all, I’m very good with bumping into guys and then disappearing.”
Emily could only smile at that statement. “Ok, hopefully Jarod will go back to the diner. We’ll work things out tonight and tomorrow you meet him while I’ll contact my mother.”
They spent the rest of the evening and well into the night making and discarding plans on contacting Jarod and how to help him.
************
The Centre
“Sydney, what are we looking for,” Broots asked nervously as he eyed the cabinets that had been pushed against the wall.
“Search for any records that relate to 1966 and Raptus,” Sydney replied, already opening a drawer that held the Centre folders relating to projects.
Broots chose a cabinet randomly and opened the top drawer. He sneezed when the dust rose before settling again.
“If Raines catches us we are so dead,” he murmured. A squeak drew his attention and thinking that it belonged to the ailing man, he turned to apologize. His flashlight caught the tail of the rat as it disappeared behind one of the cabinets.
His shriek bought Sydney’s attention. “What is it, Broots?”
“There are rats here. Big ones.”
“If you leave them alone, they’ll do the same.”
Broots nodded before returning to the folders in front of him while keeping an eye out for any rats who dared to show their whiskers.
Sydney rifled through the folders, frustrated at his lack of success. It had taken them two hours and they were no closer to finding any information than earlier. Broots had had a near miss but it had turned out to be useless. Ignoring the cabinets closest to him, he walked deeper into the room, away from where the sim lab is situated. The flashlight caught the corner of a box and it looked familiar. Sydney stepped closer, his heart rate increasing with each step.
He wasn’t making a mistake. The three boxes that stood in front of him were the same ones that he and Parker had found on SL-27 so long ago.
“Broots, I found something.”
He flipped through the folders quickly, until he found the one he wanted. Bold and in red stood the project designation.
Raptus.
He had found Raptus. Elated, he turned to speak to Broots when he noticed the other standing motionless. It was only then that he noticed the other flashlights that were held in the sweepers’ hands. He pushed the folder behind one of the cabinets before rising. Stepping from behind the sweepers till he stood in front of Sydney was the chairman of the Centre.
“What have you found, Sydney?”
“A missing file on Jarod. I thought that it might be useful reading material while we waited for the lockdown to lift,” his eyes met Broots briefly, silently warning the other to be quiet.
“Give it to me.”
Sydney obliged. It was one of the other folders he had taken from the box. The information in them was well known and not of great value. Mr. Parker flipped through the pages before giving it back.
“Very well, continue.”
Sydney sighed inwardly.
“Oh, Sydney. You haven’t heard from my daughter since the lockdown?”
“No.”
Mr. Parker nodded. “I’ll leave you to your work. These sweepers will stay for your protection.”
Sydney watched as the chairman left. He dropped the file, and with the sweepers’ attention on Broots and the paper he slipped the other folder beneath the one that he had given to Parker. Taking his prize, he and Broots made their way back towards the tech lab and the sweepers only left when they entered the room. Sydney made his way over to the table. He placed the folder and opened it.
For Centre use only
Subject: Jarod
Coordinator: Dr William Raines
Purpose: It had been noted that the subject at current development may result in rebellion and disobedience. It had long been understood that the subconscious play a major role in the active conscience of a human being. Control the subconscious and it could be surmised that in essence the conscience would be controlled.
Sydney stopped reading. What the Centre and Raines had tried had obviously failed, but had they really. The periods in his life that Jarod had forget and were now starting to remember showed him that Raines had on one level managed to suppress some of Jarod’s experiences while adding to his nightmares. What Raines had underestimated was Jarod’s will to be free and make his own choices. His eyes strayed lower to where the termination date should be entered.
No wonder Broots couldn’t find anything related to Raptus in the archives. The project was still current, still active.
“I lose who I am.”
Sydney closed his eyes. The statement made sense. Even though he had tried to be impartial, objective he knew that Jarod still had an essences of himself. He was never allowed to be contaminated by the world outside but his self came from his contact with others. Raines wanted to take that away, make Jarod a robot that would obey blindly without question. But what Raines had never understood is that Jarod’s compassion was something to be used to do the simulations and Sydney, as Jarod’s mentor had used it to prod and guide Jarod in doing the Centre’s will.
Sydney suddenly felt ashamed for his part in manipulating Jarod. Then determination set in. He wanted to do things right and if giving Jarod a good night’s sleep was one way, then he will find a way to do that.
He started to read.
************
Baker’s Club, Blue water
Miss Parker ignored the stares. Although the Baker’s club was a lot more up market than the bar where she had found her informant, it didn’t mean it was any less dangerous. She and Sam seated themselves at one of the tables. One of the waiters made his way over and she ordered a scotch for herself and whiskey for Sam.
“What do you see, Sam.”
“Two guys at the back look like they played defense for the New York Giants. The three sitting at a table to the right of them is body guards. Otherwise the club looks clean.”
Paying the waiter, Miss Parker took her drink.
“We need to get into that room and our tactics we used at the bar wouldn’t work here.”
“What about a back window or door, Miss Parker?”
“It’s worth a try. Drink and let’s go.”
Five minutes later they stepped out the club and made their way towards the back. Miss Parker had her gun out and leading as she stepped towards a window. There was no way in, the window had bars welded on the inside. She motioned to the door. Sam knocked and she was ready when the door was opened. She had a gun in the guy’s face before he had a chance to see who had knocked and she was pushing him in, using his body as a shield for any other eyes. Sam followed, closing the door behind him.
“Where is Vince?”
He was still a teenager, barely old enough to work. He stuttered before managing to show her a door to the left. Warning the boy to be silent she slammed her way inside. She was aware of Sam following her before a blinding light ended her thoughts.
************
Police station, Blue water
Jarod pressed his head into his hands before staring at the white board again. His body shivered again but he had by now gotten so used to it, he ignored it. Although it seemed like he was concentrating on the kidnapping and murders his mind was far from it. He was trying to find a solution to his own situation. He knew that Cox wouldn’t have his mother tucked to far away. It had to be a safe house the Centre had somewhere close by. The smiling photo of Davey drew his attention. He was reminded of the last time the Centre had kidnapped the boy. They had taken the boy to a safe house before his transverse was to take place to the Centre. What if they’ve done that again, he thought. If he found Davey, the chances may be good that he’ll find his mother. His only problem he saw was first in locating the place and secondly in getting rid of his personal guard that tailed him everywhere.
He eyed the cameras before looking at the time. He had spent the whole afternoon trying to figure out ways out of his situation. It still looked bleak but he had more hope. He knew that Cox was trying to keep him off-balance. His phone rang and answered it.
“Go home.”
The harsh voice again. He looked at the camera again before grabbing his jacket. He made his way out of the station and was intercepted by Murray.
“Jarod, we need to talk about this afternoon.”
“Can we do this tomorrow?”
He was aware of Murray’s thoughtful gaze on him. He waited, aware of time that was slowly drifting away.
“Nine tomorrow.”
He nodded before making his way out of the building. Fifteen minutes later he inserted his key into his apartment. Her perfume lingered in the air and when he turned he wasn’t surprised when Cynthia stepped from the corner where she had been hiding.
“What do you want?” he growled, his anger flaring.
“Be careful, Jarod.” She warned, stepping closer until she stood in front of him. She pursed her lips, looking him up and down thoughtfully.
“Take off you shirt.”
Jarod couldn’t believe his ears. He took a step backwards and she emulated him. She traced a hand onto his chest and he grabbed it, pushing it downwards.
“Jarod, you do want to see your mother again?”
Jarod’s lips pressed so tightly together that all that was visible was a thin line of anger. His hand released hers and slowly started to unbutton the shirt. Cynthia stepped away from him and moved towards the table. He shrugged the shirt off, turning and watching as the woman opened the bag. Another bout of shivering hit him and he hugged himself to try and get some warmth.
“Sit on the bed.”
A small tick started in the corner of his jaw. He stared at her, wondering what she had in store for him. His concern for his mother won out and he obeyed. He slowly seated himself and watched when she stepped towards him with a cylinder and a syringe.
“What do you think you are going to do with that,” he asked, rising. She placed the two instruments onto the bed and then pushed him back down.
“We don’t want you dead, Jarod,” Cynthia assured him as she stroked Jarod’s cheek suggestively. “We just need some genetic material from you.”
“To what end?” Jarod snarled, pulling his face from her hand.
“That doesn’t concern you.”
He remembered Cox’s smirk when he said the exact same words.
“No.”
“Jarod, you have no choice.” She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards her.
“I said no.” He jerked his arm out of her grip, glaring at her.
“Your mother…”
“Yes, my mother. I want to speak to her before I become your medical experiment again. I want to know that she is safe.”
Cynthia’s expression hardened but Jarod didn’t budge. She finally relented, turning her back on Jarod and dialed a number he couldn’t see. She spoke briefly before handing the phone to him.
“Mom,” he queried, the concern evident in his voice.
“I’m fine. Jarod, are you all right?”
“Mom, I promise you that we’ll be together soon, ok. There is just something I need to do first.”
“I know. Just be strong, Jarod. I…I have to go.”
He barely had time to say goodbye before her voice was replaced by Cox.
“Happy?”
Jarod didn’t answer.
“I hope that you will cooperate with Miss DeWitt, Jarod. I would hate for anything to happen to your mother while she is under her care.”
“You touch one hair on her head, Cox and I will kill you.”
“Your mother is safe as long as you behave, Jarod. Just remember that you control her comfort level.”
Jarod stood with the phone in his hand, the warning still ringing in his ear. Unable to really resist, he allowed Cynthia to clean his arm and then grimaced when she pushed the needle into a vein. He watched his blood flow into the cylinder. She removed the needle, labeled the cylinder before returning with another syringe.
He looked out the window while she injected Jarod with a clear liquid.
A gentle warmth was slowly spreading through his limbs. The now familiar feeling of heaviness was pushing his eyelids down. He tried to fight it but the last thing he saw was her smile when she stepped towards him.
************
Baker’s club, Blue water
Miss Parker woke to find that she had been stretched out on a leather couch. A soft glow emanated from the fire place to her left. She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, taking in her surroundings. The room was spacious, besides the couch she had been lying on, there was two other comfort chairs. Towards the back of the room a big desk stood. She raised a hand to touch the area behind her head where she had been hit and grimaced when she made contact.
Great, she thought, at least she wasn’t bleeding. She rose a bit unsteadily from the couch and was about to inspect the desk from closer when the door behind her opened. She turned, her hand reaching for her gun before she remembered that it had been in her hand when she had entered the room.
“Miss Parker, I hope you are feeling better.”
“Except for a blinding headache, just peachy.” She replied, scrutinizing the man before her. He was almost as tall as Jarod but that is where the similarities ended. He had brownish hair that was slowly turning grey. His dark eyes shown lifeless and his face had the bleached look that came from spending most of your time indoors. He would have been handsome but for the scar that stretched from his right eyebrow down his face, ending at the jaw line.
“Drink this; it will make you feel better.”
He held a glass out to her, in his other hand was two white pills. She shook her head and regretted it immediately. “No thanks, I’d rather keep my senses.”
He smiled and sat the glass and pills on the side table by the couch. “Suit yourself, but if I had wanted to keep you,” with this he gave a smirk, “senseless than I would not have allowed you to wake up.”
Miss Parker glared. She understood the logic and her pounding head wasn’t really helping her in figuring a way out of this. Taking the glass and pills, she swallowed them quickly.
“Please, sit.”
She could here the veiled command behind the words. One of the big guys from the club stood by the door and she knew there was no choice.
“Where is Sam?”
“Resting comfortably.”
She nodded, watching as the man took a bag and spread her belongings on the table. He perched himself on the edge of the table and rummaged amongst the effects before taking her driver’s license. Tapping it against his fingers, he openly stared at her.
“Why are you looking for me?”
“I don’t even know who you are, buster, so I suggest you let me go or I’ll give you a matching scar on the other side of your face.” With this she smiled, giving silent promises.
Vince didn’t even blink except smiling back at her. His hand rose and traced the scar, “This is a reminder to be careful around woman,” He continued smoothly, “I wonder, Miss Parker. How do you think you’ll get close enough to do that with Bugsy guarding me?”
“Bugsy? You have to be kidding me? Did I somehow step into a forties mob movie.”
“No, but you did arrive at a rather unfortunate time. I will only ask this once more before Bugsy will show you rather interesting ways of getting woman to talk. Why are you looking for me?”
Miss Parker had no doubt the man in front of her will do exactly what he said. She decided to go for the truth. “I’m looking for a boy that has been kidnapped and I was told that you might know where he is being held.”
Vince dropped her license back on the table. “Ah, I see. That is rather a dilemma, is it not, Miss Parker. I wonder if you are aware of the kind of person that you are looking for. Even in my business he is not crossed but I think the same argument would count for you.”
“I understand, but I can make it worth your while.”
“And how is that, Miss Parker. You do not have what I don’t already own.”
Miss Parker ignored the veiled insult. Instead she continued to bargain for her and Sam’s life. She knew that if unsuccessful that Vince would get rid of her without any fanfare or elaborate planning.
“But this man you do not own. I can get rid of him in the process of saving the boy.”
Vince looked at her with new respect. He had known the woman in front of him was dangerous but he was slowly beginning to realize that he had underestimated how dangerous. Watching her out the corner of his eye, he picked up her gun from the table.
“You any good with this gun, Miss Parker?”
“Give it back and I’ll demonstrate,” she said calmly.
“No, I don’t think so. I think that you have to very good with this gun to…sort out my little problem. I’ll have to think about this.”
Bugsy came forward and she understood that she had been dismissed. His thick fingers curled around her arm and she allowed him to lead her away. At the door, she turned and left with her final words, hoping that it would be enough.
“If I’ll fail, I’ll be dead anyways. But if I succeed, you will never see me again or you’re…little problem.”
************
Baker’s club, Blue water
“Thank you for the head’s up. An interesting creature, your sister. And dangerous,” Vince smiled, looking at his guest.
“Have you made a decision yet,” Lyle asked before sipping the whiskey that the other had offered him. They were both seated on the comfort chairs, each sizing up the man before him.
“She had made a very intriguing proposal. It would be entertaining to see whether she would succeed in the venture.”
Lyle grunted, masking his irritation by taking another sip. This is not how he had envisioned his plan. His sister had yet again managed to foul up his carefully laid out tactics.
“Why do you want her removed? Are you not related,” Vince asked slyly, his gaze never leaving the blond man’s.
Lyle smirked, “Let’s just say that with her out of the way, my inheritance increases dramatically.”
“Ah, I understand. Never the less, I think I would give Miss Parker the chance to prove that she will do what she said. We can always arrange for an accident to happen afterwards.”
Lyle smiled and raised his glass in toast. That sounded like a definite plan.
************
Jarod’s apartment
The nightmare was real. It was personified, the fingers tracing the pathways of his fear. He wanted to escape, to run but he was stuck in the box. He couldn’t escape and the claustrophobia dragged the air from his lungs.
He couldn’t breathe anymore.
Sydney turned the page.
Session six: The subject is now responding involuntarily to the fear stimuli. As soon as the image appears the subject curls up into a defensive position. With the threat of physical violence added, the subject had started to be more attentive in the simulation.
“No, don’t, please.”
Jarod was barely aware of the words he had uttered. He was shivering, his knees drawn up to his chest. His head swung from side to side and he continued to whimper as he tried to hide from the nightmare.
Session ten: Although older, the subject is responding well to treatment. It had been noted that his nightmares increases with each thought or act of disobedience. It is hoped that the subject will eventually, through learned behavior, be trained that obedience will bring peace. It is however unfortunate that the subject can not be subjected to the stimuli more often. It is my belief that with more exposure the subject will be less rebellious and questioning.
He was in the box again only this time he was tied to a gurney. It was getting colder and colder. His screams were hoarse, till it finally died down.
He died.
Session Fifty: One of the Triumvirate members had come to observe. The subject’s heart had stopped and was successfully revived. The memories are still intact and the subject will not recall what he had experienced. It is hoped that with these corrective measures the subject will be more obedient and submissive.
“No.”
Jarod spoke that one word so softly that it escaped before it could be fully formed. He watched it dance away on the wind. He heard a woman cry, a man and then a multitude. When he turned they stood in front of him, a crowd of people all crying and lamenting till eyes turned his way. He saw the anger in them and then the first words were slung his way.
“Murderer…”
“Killer…”
“You destroyed us all…”
He had no defense.
Session Sixty-two: We had decided to add to the subject’s repertoire. It is hoped that with the added emotion of guilt he will understand that only through his obedience and cooperation will the feeling abate.
Session Sixty-three: The subject had managed to escape. It is now recognized that the feelings of guilt had in fact facilitated the subject’s tearing away. When the subject is retrieved it will be endeavored to remove these feelings as soon as possible. Other means will be sought to bring the subject to full control of the Centre.
He is, after all, the key.
Sydney closed the folder and leaned back in his chair, stunned. He had never in his wildest dreams envisioned the depths to which the Centre would go in order to control Jarod. They had made one big mistake. Because of Jarod’s compassion he did not ignore the guilt but added to it. It was because of that guilt that Jarod had taken the steps to escape and to work tirelessly to help others.
Sydney’s only wish now was to do the same for Jarod. Raines and the Centre had tried to steal Jarod’s soul and had failed. All Sydney needed to do now was to help Jarod make it whole.
************
Police station, Blue water
When Jarod had waked this morning, he was alone. Cynthia must have left sometime during the night. The nausea had returned full force and he been forced again to spent time in the bathroom before he had sufficient strength to take a shower and dress. He was late for his meeting with Murray but at this stage just didn’t care.
He opened his door, surreptitiously glancing at the cameras. He was aware of the detective that was waiting by his desk. He took his time, taking of his jacket and hanging it beside the door before making his way over to his chair.
“You wanted to see me,” he began by way of introduction. He was definitely not in the mood for the detective’s suspicions or questions.
“Who are you?”
Jarod felt a pit settle somewhere in his stomach. He glanced at the camera and then focused his attention on Murray. “Excuse me?”
Murray threw a folder on his desk. He opened it slowly. It was articles of past pretends that he had done.
“What exactly are you, Jarod? I phoned the bureau and they have no record of you ever working for them.”
Jarod swallowed. He had always known that he would be found out one day. Now was the worst possible time that it could have happened. He was about to answer, hoping to bluff his way out of it when his phone rang.
He knew who it would be.
He took a deep breath and answered.
“Get rid of him.”
Jarod looked at Murray. He shook his head slightly for the camera.
“Open your bottom drawer.” Jarod did as he was told. The gun stared back. “Take it out.” Murray was slowly rising, his suspicions heightened by Jarod’s behavior.
Jarod put the phone down and rose. The gun was in his hand and hung next to his side.
“What do you think you are going to do, Jarod? You are in a police station.”
“I’m really sorry but I have no choice,” Jarod glanced at the camera and Murray followed his gaze. He saw the black lens of the glass and he finally understood his mistake.
“You walk out of here with that gun and the trouble you are in will magnify. We can work something out.”
Jarod smiled sadly, his gaze bloodshot. “I’m afraid that there is nothing that you can do that will help me. I need to find out who else you had told.”
“No one, not yet. I wanted to find your side of the story first.”
Jarod nodded. “My story is too complicated and will only get you killed,” Jarod stepped around the desk, careful to keep the gun out of view of the police-officers that worked outside his office.
He closed the blinds before locking the door. He indicated Murray to move towards the closet that sat against the wall.
“Take of your jacket.”
Murray did as he was told before turning and cuffing himself. Jarod searched him and made sure that the manacles were tight. He opened the closet and then helped the detective to enter it. He apologized when he gagged Murray before knocking the detective unconscious. His phone rang and he answered.
“Very good, Jarod. There is a silencer in the same drawer. I want you to kill him.”
“No. He can do no harm where he is now.”
“He cannot be kept there indefinitely. He will attract attention. Kill him.”
Jarod could only stare at the gun. “I will do your damn project, Cox but I will not kill an innocent man that is only doing his job. You can go to hell.” He hung up, his hands sweaty and prayed that he had not just killed his mother.
************
The Centre
Broots had fallen asleep and it was the ting from the computer to indicate that the conversion had been completed that had waked him. He stared blearily at the screen before the flashing box reminded him that the next part of the conversion was done. He woke Sydney that had been sleeping on his arms by the table before going off to fetch some coffee.
Sydney thanked Broots for the drink before turning the DSA case and inserting the disc. He wondered if what he was going to see was one of the sessions he had read about. He looked at Broots to make sure the other was ready and pressed the button.
For Centre use only
Subject 701102004
A boy was curled on a bed. He had his head pressed into the pillow, muffling the sounds but from the motion of his chest it was evident that he was crying. The boy’s body went rigid with fear when a door clanked open.
Raines stood by the bed, looking down at the boy. He took a drag of his cigarette before pushing the burning end into the boy’s neck.
“You were told that crying makes you weak. Is that not true?”
The boy shuddered but no sound came from his lips as the cigarette burned a hole into his skin. When Raines removed the cooling butt from the boy’s neck, the boy sat up and stared at Raines.
“You may answer.”
“Yes sir.”
“Do you like pain,” Raines asked, again taking a drag from his cigarette.
“I like nothing, sir. I only do what you tell me to.”
“If that is the case, boy, then you will never cry again. Am I clear?”
The big brown eyes stared without emotion up at the man with the cigarette and agreed to the command. Raines nodded and left, leaving the boy staring blindly at the camera before curling tight in the corner of his bed.
The DSA came to an end. Sydney could only stare. He had not been aware of another project and he had never seen that boy before. It seems that Raines had had his fingers in more than one clandestine pie that he didn’t know off.
“Who was that,” Broots asked, looking at the psychiatrist.
“I don’t know but I get this funny feeling that he might hold the answers to our current situation.”
Sydney turned when Angelo leaned in over his shoulder and traced the outline of the boy’s body.
“Angelo, what do you feel,” Sydney asked, watching as the man-child continued to trace with his fingers across the screen.
“Scared, lonely, afraid. Scared, Sydney. Boy scared.”
“Angelo, do you know this boy?”
“Bad man, he hurt boy. Boy scared of bad man. Bad man make boy dead inside.”
Sydney was about to ask another question when Angelo turned away and ran out the door. He knew better than to ran after Angelo, instead turned his gaze to Broots while Angelo’s revelation ran around his head. Then he remembered where he had heard the first part of Angelo’s words.
The photos. The person who had taken the photos must be the same person as the boy. His concern for Parker increased. If what Angelo had said is true, she might be in more danger than any of them at ever imagined. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed her number. The tone sounded in his ear and frustrated he pounded the table. They were still cut off from the outside.
How long will it take before we’ll be able to watch the last segment,” he asked Broots as he made his way towards the door.
“It should be ready by this afternoon.”
“Good. I’m going to see Mr. Parker. I need to find out if he knew about this project.”
************
Mythos House, Michigan
Cain made the hardest decision he had ever made in his life. While he worked with Davey he decided to leave with the boy. He didn’t want Davey to grow up under Raines’ tutelage. He wanted the boy to have a chance at a life that he never had.
All he had to do now if figure out how to make his escape without arousing the suspicions of his mentor and the sweepers.
************
Undisclosed vicinity, Blue water
Cox watched Jarod stare at the gun before retuning it to the drawer. He was angry but he understood that if he pushed now that he could jeopardize the project, and that was not what he wanted. Promising the pretender that he would pay for his disobedience, he reached out and answered his ringing phone.
“We have a problem,” his informant said, “The schedule has been changed.”
Cox swore before asking when.
“Wednesday evening.”
He swore again. He had thought that they would have more time. He thanked his informant before closing the phone. Keeping an eye on Jarod, he dialed an eight digit number.
“The project is being escalated…I know.”
He stared at the pretender, wondering if there would be enough time.
“He’ll be ready.”
He listened briefly, before replying, “Don’t worry. Jarod will terminate the Triumvirate. After all, he wants to see his mother again.”
************
So, what do you think? Hope it was worth the wait. ;-)
Thank you for the reviews. It gives me incentive to write.
Chapter 10
Shoreview apartments
“Emily, what are you going to do,” Jessie asked her friend. Emily was pacing up and down. She turned to Jessie and finally seated herself next to her.
“I’m not sure yet but Jarod needs my help. I need to do something.”
“What about your mom. Can’t you phone her?”
“Not until tomorrow. This is so frustrating,” she groaned.
“Wait, I have an idea. Why don’t I contact Jarod? Those guys don’t know me or that I know you. That way I can find out what is going on with your brother without him thinking that he is putting your life in danger.”
“Jessie, I don’t know. It’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”
“Not if I’m careful. After all, I’m very good with bumping into guys and then disappearing.”
Emily could only smile at that statement. “Ok, hopefully Jarod will go back to the diner. We’ll work things out tonight and tomorrow you meet him while I’ll contact my mother.”
They spent the rest of the evening and well into the night making and discarding plans on contacting Jarod and how to help him.
************
The Centre
“Sydney, what are we looking for,” Broots asked nervously as he eyed the cabinets that had been pushed against the wall.
“Search for any records that relate to 1966 and Raptus,” Sydney replied, already opening a drawer that held the Centre folders relating to projects.
Broots chose a cabinet randomly and opened the top drawer. He sneezed when the dust rose before settling again.
“If Raines catches us we are so dead,” he murmured. A squeak drew his attention and thinking that it belonged to the ailing man, he turned to apologize. His flashlight caught the tail of the rat as it disappeared behind one of the cabinets.
His shriek bought Sydney’s attention. “What is it, Broots?”
“There are rats here. Big ones.”
“If you leave them alone, they’ll do the same.”
Broots nodded before returning to the folders in front of him while keeping an eye out for any rats who dared to show their whiskers.
Sydney rifled through the folders, frustrated at his lack of success. It had taken them two hours and they were no closer to finding any information than earlier. Broots had had a near miss but it had turned out to be useless. Ignoring the cabinets closest to him, he walked deeper into the room, away from where the sim lab is situated. The flashlight caught the corner of a box and it looked familiar. Sydney stepped closer, his heart rate increasing with each step.
He wasn’t making a mistake. The three boxes that stood in front of him were the same ones that he and Parker had found on SL-27 so long ago.
“Broots, I found something.”
He flipped through the folders quickly, until he found the one he wanted. Bold and in red stood the project designation.
Raptus.
He had found Raptus. Elated, he turned to speak to Broots when he noticed the other standing motionless. It was only then that he noticed the other flashlights that were held in the sweepers’ hands. He pushed the folder behind one of the cabinets before rising. Stepping from behind the sweepers till he stood in front of Sydney was the chairman of the Centre.
“What have you found, Sydney?”
“A missing file on Jarod. I thought that it might be useful reading material while we waited for the lockdown to lift,” his eyes met Broots briefly, silently warning the other to be quiet.
“Give it to me.”
Sydney obliged. It was one of the other folders he had taken from the box. The information in them was well known and not of great value. Mr. Parker flipped through the pages before giving it back.
“Very well, continue.”
Sydney sighed inwardly.
“Oh, Sydney. You haven’t heard from my daughter since the lockdown?”
“No.”
Mr. Parker nodded. “I’ll leave you to your work. These sweepers will stay for your protection.”
Sydney watched as the chairman left. He dropped the file, and with the sweepers’ attention on Broots and the paper he slipped the other folder beneath the one that he had given to Parker. Taking his prize, he and Broots made their way back towards the tech lab and the sweepers only left when they entered the room. Sydney made his way over to the table. He placed the folder and opened it.
For Centre use only
Subject: Jarod
Coordinator: Dr William Raines
Purpose: It had been noted that the subject at current development may result in rebellion and disobedience. It had long been understood that the subconscious play a major role in the active conscience of a human being. Control the subconscious and it could be surmised that in essence the conscience would be controlled.
Sydney stopped reading. What the Centre and Raines had tried had obviously failed, but had they really. The periods in his life that Jarod had forget and were now starting to remember showed him that Raines had on one level managed to suppress some of Jarod’s experiences while adding to his nightmares. What Raines had underestimated was Jarod’s will to be free and make his own choices. His eyes strayed lower to where the termination date should be entered.
No wonder Broots couldn’t find anything related to Raptus in the archives. The project was still current, still active.
“I lose who I am.”
Sydney closed his eyes. The statement made sense. Even though he had tried to be impartial, objective he knew that Jarod still had an essences of himself. He was never allowed to be contaminated by the world outside but his self came from his contact with others. Raines wanted to take that away, make Jarod a robot that would obey blindly without question. But what Raines had never understood is that Jarod’s compassion was something to be used to do the simulations and Sydney, as Jarod’s mentor had used it to prod and guide Jarod in doing the Centre’s will.
Sydney suddenly felt ashamed for his part in manipulating Jarod. Then determination set in. He wanted to do things right and if giving Jarod a good night’s sleep was one way, then he will find a way to do that.
He started to read.
************
Baker’s Club, Blue water
Miss Parker ignored the stares. Although the Baker’s club was a lot more up market than the bar where she had found her informant, it didn’t mean it was any less dangerous. She and Sam seated themselves at one of the tables. One of the waiters made his way over and she ordered a scotch for herself and whiskey for Sam.
“What do you see, Sam.”
“Two guys at the back look like they played defense for the New York Giants. The three sitting at a table to the right of them is body guards. Otherwise the club looks clean.”
Paying the waiter, Miss Parker took her drink.
“We need to get into that room and our tactics we used at the bar wouldn’t work here.”
“What about a back window or door, Miss Parker?”
“It’s worth a try. Drink and let’s go.”
Five minutes later they stepped out the club and made their way towards the back. Miss Parker had her gun out and leading as she stepped towards a window. There was no way in, the window had bars welded on the inside. She motioned to the door. Sam knocked and she was ready when the door was opened. She had a gun in the guy’s face before he had a chance to see who had knocked and she was pushing him in, using his body as a shield for any other eyes. Sam followed, closing the door behind him.
“Where is Vince?”
He was still a teenager, barely old enough to work. He stuttered before managing to show her a door to the left. Warning the boy to be silent she slammed her way inside. She was aware of Sam following her before a blinding light ended her thoughts.
************
Police station, Blue water
Jarod pressed his head into his hands before staring at the white board again. His body shivered again but he had by now gotten so used to it, he ignored it. Although it seemed like he was concentrating on the kidnapping and murders his mind was far from it. He was trying to find a solution to his own situation. He knew that Cox wouldn’t have his mother tucked to far away. It had to be a safe house the Centre had somewhere close by. The smiling photo of Davey drew his attention. He was reminded of the last time the Centre had kidnapped the boy. They had taken the boy to a safe house before his transverse was to take place to the Centre. What if they’ve done that again, he thought. If he found Davey, the chances may be good that he’ll find his mother. His only problem he saw was first in locating the place and secondly in getting rid of his personal guard that tailed him everywhere.
He eyed the cameras before looking at the time. He had spent the whole afternoon trying to figure out ways out of his situation. It still looked bleak but he had more hope. He knew that Cox was trying to keep him off-balance. His phone rang and answered it.
“Go home.”
The harsh voice again. He looked at the camera again before grabbing his jacket. He made his way out of the station and was intercepted by Murray.
“Jarod, we need to talk about this afternoon.”
“Can we do this tomorrow?”
He was aware of Murray’s thoughtful gaze on him. He waited, aware of time that was slowly drifting away.
“Nine tomorrow.”
He nodded before making his way out of the building. Fifteen minutes later he inserted his key into his apartment. Her perfume lingered in the air and when he turned he wasn’t surprised when Cynthia stepped from the corner where she had been hiding.
“What do you want?” he growled, his anger flaring.
“Be careful, Jarod.” She warned, stepping closer until she stood in front of him. She pursed her lips, looking him up and down thoughtfully.
“Take off you shirt.”
Jarod couldn’t believe his ears. He took a step backwards and she emulated him. She traced a hand onto his chest and he grabbed it, pushing it downwards.
“Jarod, you do want to see your mother again?”
Jarod’s lips pressed so tightly together that all that was visible was a thin line of anger. His hand released hers and slowly started to unbutton the shirt. Cynthia stepped away from him and moved towards the table. He shrugged the shirt off, turning and watching as the woman opened the bag. Another bout of shivering hit him and he hugged himself to try and get some warmth.
“Sit on the bed.”
A small tick started in the corner of his jaw. He stared at her, wondering what she had in store for him. His concern for his mother won out and he obeyed. He slowly seated himself and watched when she stepped towards him with a cylinder and a syringe.
“What do you think you are going to do with that,” he asked, rising. She placed the two instruments onto the bed and then pushed him back down.
“We don’t want you dead, Jarod,” Cynthia assured him as she stroked Jarod’s cheek suggestively. “We just need some genetic material from you.”
“To what end?” Jarod snarled, pulling his face from her hand.
“That doesn’t concern you.”
He remembered Cox’s smirk when he said the exact same words.
“No.”
“Jarod, you have no choice.” She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards her.
“I said no.” He jerked his arm out of her grip, glaring at her.
“Your mother…”
“Yes, my mother. I want to speak to her before I become your medical experiment again. I want to know that she is safe.”
Cynthia’s expression hardened but Jarod didn’t budge. She finally relented, turning her back on Jarod and dialed a number he couldn’t see. She spoke briefly before handing the phone to him.
“Mom,” he queried, the concern evident in his voice.
“I’m fine. Jarod, are you all right?”
“Mom, I promise you that we’ll be together soon, ok. There is just something I need to do first.”
“I know. Just be strong, Jarod. I…I have to go.”
He barely had time to say goodbye before her voice was replaced by Cox.
“Happy?”
Jarod didn’t answer.
“I hope that you will cooperate with Miss DeWitt, Jarod. I would hate for anything to happen to your mother while she is under her care.”
“You touch one hair on her head, Cox and I will kill you.”
“Your mother is safe as long as you behave, Jarod. Just remember that you control her comfort level.”
Jarod stood with the phone in his hand, the warning still ringing in his ear. Unable to really resist, he allowed Cynthia to clean his arm and then grimaced when she pushed the needle into a vein. He watched his blood flow into the cylinder. She removed the needle, labeled the cylinder before returning with another syringe.
He looked out the window while she injected Jarod with a clear liquid.
A gentle warmth was slowly spreading through his limbs. The now familiar feeling of heaviness was pushing his eyelids down. He tried to fight it but the last thing he saw was her smile when she stepped towards him.
************
Baker’s club, Blue water
Miss Parker woke to find that she had been stretched out on a leather couch. A soft glow emanated from the fire place to her left. She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, taking in her surroundings. The room was spacious, besides the couch she had been lying on, there was two other comfort chairs. Towards the back of the room a big desk stood. She raised a hand to touch the area behind her head where she had been hit and grimaced when she made contact.
Great, she thought, at least she wasn’t bleeding. She rose a bit unsteadily from the couch and was about to inspect the desk from closer when the door behind her opened. She turned, her hand reaching for her gun before she remembered that it had been in her hand when she had entered the room.
“Miss Parker, I hope you are feeling better.”
“Except for a blinding headache, just peachy.” She replied, scrutinizing the man before her. He was almost as tall as Jarod but that is where the similarities ended. He had brownish hair that was slowly turning grey. His dark eyes shown lifeless and his face had the bleached look that came from spending most of your time indoors. He would have been handsome but for the scar that stretched from his right eyebrow down his face, ending at the jaw line.
“Drink this; it will make you feel better.”
He held a glass out to her, in his other hand was two white pills. She shook her head and regretted it immediately. “No thanks, I’d rather keep my senses.”
He smiled and sat the glass and pills on the side table by the couch. “Suit yourself, but if I had wanted to keep you,” with this he gave a smirk, “senseless than I would not have allowed you to wake up.”
Miss Parker glared. She understood the logic and her pounding head wasn’t really helping her in figuring a way out of this. Taking the glass and pills, she swallowed them quickly.
“Please, sit.”
She could here the veiled command behind the words. One of the big guys from the club stood by the door and she knew there was no choice.
“Where is Sam?”
“Resting comfortably.”
She nodded, watching as the man took a bag and spread her belongings on the table. He perched himself on the edge of the table and rummaged amongst the effects before taking her driver’s license. Tapping it against his fingers, he openly stared at her.
“Why are you looking for me?”
“I don’t even know who you are, buster, so I suggest you let me go or I’ll give you a matching scar on the other side of your face.” With this she smiled, giving silent promises.
Vince didn’t even blink except smiling back at her. His hand rose and traced the scar, “This is a reminder to be careful around woman,” He continued smoothly, “I wonder, Miss Parker. How do you think you’ll get close enough to do that with Bugsy guarding me?”
“Bugsy? You have to be kidding me? Did I somehow step into a forties mob movie.”
“No, but you did arrive at a rather unfortunate time. I will only ask this once more before Bugsy will show you rather interesting ways of getting woman to talk. Why are you looking for me?”
Miss Parker had no doubt the man in front of her will do exactly what he said. She decided to go for the truth. “I’m looking for a boy that has been kidnapped and I was told that you might know where he is being held.”
Vince dropped her license back on the table. “Ah, I see. That is rather a dilemma, is it not, Miss Parker. I wonder if you are aware of the kind of person that you are looking for. Even in my business he is not crossed but I think the same argument would count for you.”
“I understand, but I can make it worth your while.”
“And how is that, Miss Parker. You do not have what I don’t already own.”
Miss Parker ignored the veiled insult. Instead she continued to bargain for her and Sam’s life. She knew that if unsuccessful that Vince would get rid of her without any fanfare or elaborate planning.
“But this man you do not own. I can get rid of him in the process of saving the boy.”
Vince looked at her with new respect. He had known the woman in front of him was dangerous but he was slowly beginning to realize that he had underestimated how dangerous. Watching her out the corner of his eye, he picked up her gun from the table.
“You any good with this gun, Miss Parker?”
“Give it back and I’ll demonstrate,” she said calmly.
“No, I don’t think so. I think that you have to very good with this gun to…sort out my little problem. I’ll have to think about this.”
Bugsy came forward and she understood that she had been dismissed. His thick fingers curled around her arm and she allowed him to lead her away. At the door, she turned and left with her final words, hoping that it would be enough.
“If I’ll fail, I’ll be dead anyways. But if I succeed, you will never see me again or you’re…little problem.”
************
Baker’s club, Blue water
“Thank you for the head’s up. An interesting creature, your sister. And dangerous,” Vince smiled, looking at his guest.
“Have you made a decision yet,” Lyle asked before sipping the whiskey that the other had offered him. They were both seated on the comfort chairs, each sizing up the man before him.
“She had made a very intriguing proposal. It would be entertaining to see whether she would succeed in the venture.”
Lyle grunted, masking his irritation by taking another sip. This is not how he had envisioned his plan. His sister had yet again managed to foul up his carefully laid out tactics.
“Why do you want her removed? Are you not related,” Vince asked slyly, his gaze never leaving the blond man’s.
Lyle smirked, “Let’s just say that with her out of the way, my inheritance increases dramatically.”
“Ah, I understand. Never the less, I think I would give Miss Parker the chance to prove that she will do what she said. We can always arrange for an accident to happen afterwards.”
Lyle smiled and raised his glass in toast. That sounded like a definite plan.
************
Jarod’s apartment
The nightmare was real. It was personified, the fingers tracing the pathways of his fear. He wanted to escape, to run but he was stuck in the box. He couldn’t escape and the claustrophobia dragged the air from his lungs.
He couldn’t breathe anymore.
Sydney turned the page.
Session six: The subject is now responding involuntarily to the fear stimuli. As soon as the image appears the subject curls up into a defensive position. With the threat of physical violence added, the subject had started to be more attentive in the simulation.
“No, don’t, please.”
Jarod was barely aware of the words he had uttered. He was shivering, his knees drawn up to his chest. His head swung from side to side and he continued to whimper as he tried to hide from the nightmare.
Session ten: Although older, the subject is responding well to treatment. It had been noted that his nightmares increases with each thought or act of disobedience. It is hoped that the subject will eventually, through learned behavior, be trained that obedience will bring peace. It is however unfortunate that the subject can not be subjected to the stimuli more often. It is my belief that with more exposure the subject will be less rebellious and questioning.
He was in the box again only this time he was tied to a gurney. It was getting colder and colder. His screams were hoarse, till it finally died down.
He died.
Session Fifty: One of the Triumvirate members had come to observe. The subject’s heart had stopped and was successfully revived. The memories are still intact and the subject will not recall what he had experienced. It is hoped that with these corrective measures the subject will be more obedient and submissive.
“No.”
Jarod spoke that one word so softly that it escaped before it could be fully formed. He watched it dance away on the wind. He heard a woman cry, a man and then a multitude. When he turned they stood in front of him, a crowd of people all crying and lamenting till eyes turned his way. He saw the anger in them and then the first words were slung his way.
“Murderer…”
“Killer…”
“You destroyed us all…”
He had no defense.
Session Sixty-two: We had decided to add to the subject’s repertoire. It is hoped that with the added emotion of guilt he will understand that only through his obedience and cooperation will the feeling abate.
Session Sixty-three: The subject had managed to escape. It is now recognized that the feelings of guilt had in fact facilitated the subject’s tearing away. When the subject is retrieved it will be endeavored to remove these feelings as soon as possible. Other means will be sought to bring the subject to full control of the Centre.
He is, after all, the key.
Sydney closed the folder and leaned back in his chair, stunned. He had never in his wildest dreams envisioned the depths to which the Centre would go in order to control Jarod. They had made one big mistake. Because of Jarod’s compassion he did not ignore the guilt but added to it. It was because of that guilt that Jarod had taken the steps to escape and to work tirelessly to help others.
Sydney’s only wish now was to do the same for Jarod. Raines and the Centre had tried to steal Jarod’s soul and had failed. All Sydney needed to do now was to help Jarod make it whole.
************
Police station, Blue water
When Jarod had waked this morning, he was alone. Cynthia must have left sometime during the night. The nausea had returned full force and he been forced again to spent time in the bathroom before he had sufficient strength to take a shower and dress. He was late for his meeting with Murray but at this stage just didn’t care.
He opened his door, surreptitiously glancing at the cameras. He was aware of the detective that was waiting by his desk. He took his time, taking of his jacket and hanging it beside the door before making his way over to his chair.
“You wanted to see me,” he began by way of introduction. He was definitely not in the mood for the detective’s suspicions or questions.
“Who are you?”
Jarod felt a pit settle somewhere in his stomach. He glanced at the camera and then focused his attention on Murray. “Excuse me?”
Murray threw a folder on his desk. He opened it slowly. It was articles of past pretends that he had done.
“What exactly are you, Jarod? I phoned the bureau and they have no record of you ever working for them.”
Jarod swallowed. He had always known that he would be found out one day. Now was the worst possible time that it could have happened. He was about to answer, hoping to bluff his way out of it when his phone rang.
He knew who it would be.
He took a deep breath and answered.
“Get rid of him.”
Jarod looked at Murray. He shook his head slightly for the camera.
“Open your bottom drawer.” Jarod did as he was told. The gun stared back. “Take it out.” Murray was slowly rising, his suspicions heightened by Jarod’s behavior.
Jarod put the phone down and rose. The gun was in his hand and hung next to his side.
“What do you think you are going to do, Jarod? You are in a police station.”
“I’m really sorry but I have no choice,” Jarod glanced at the camera and Murray followed his gaze. He saw the black lens of the glass and he finally understood his mistake.
“You walk out of here with that gun and the trouble you are in will magnify. We can work something out.”
Jarod smiled sadly, his gaze bloodshot. “I’m afraid that there is nothing that you can do that will help me. I need to find out who else you had told.”
“No one, not yet. I wanted to find your side of the story first.”
Jarod nodded. “My story is too complicated and will only get you killed,” Jarod stepped around the desk, careful to keep the gun out of view of the police-officers that worked outside his office.
He closed the blinds before locking the door. He indicated Murray to move towards the closet that sat against the wall.
“Take of your jacket.”
Murray did as he was told before turning and cuffing himself. Jarod searched him and made sure that the manacles were tight. He opened the closet and then helped the detective to enter it. He apologized when he gagged Murray before knocking the detective unconscious. His phone rang and he answered.
“Very good, Jarod. There is a silencer in the same drawer. I want you to kill him.”
“No. He can do no harm where he is now.”
“He cannot be kept there indefinitely. He will attract attention. Kill him.”
Jarod could only stare at the gun. “I will do your damn project, Cox but I will not kill an innocent man that is only doing his job. You can go to hell.” He hung up, his hands sweaty and prayed that he had not just killed his mother.
************
The Centre
Broots had fallen asleep and it was the ting from the computer to indicate that the conversion had been completed that had waked him. He stared blearily at the screen before the flashing box reminded him that the next part of the conversion was done. He woke Sydney that had been sleeping on his arms by the table before going off to fetch some coffee.
Sydney thanked Broots for the drink before turning the DSA case and inserting the disc. He wondered if what he was going to see was one of the sessions he had read about. He looked at Broots to make sure the other was ready and pressed the button.
For Centre use only
Subject 701102004
A boy was curled on a bed. He had his head pressed into the pillow, muffling the sounds but from the motion of his chest it was evident that he was crying. The boy’s body went rigid with fear when a door clanked open.
Raines stood by the bed, looking down at the boy. He took a drag of his cigarette before pushing the burning end into the boy’s neck.
“You were told that crying makes you weak. Is that not true?”
The boy shuddered but no sound came from his lips as the cigarette burned a hole into his skin. When Raines removed the cooling butt from the boy’s neck, the boy sat up and stared at Raines.
“You may answer.”
“Yes sir.”
“Do you like pain,” Raines asked, again taking a drag from his cigarette.
“I like nothing, sir. I only do what you tell me to.”
“If that is the case, boy, then you will never cry again. Am I clear?”
The big brown eyes stared without emotion up at the man with the cigarette and agreed to the command. Raines nodded and left, leaving the boy staring blindly at the camera before curling tight in the corner of his bed.
The DSA came to an end. Sydney could only stare. He had not been aware of another project and he had never seen that boy before. It seems that Raines had had his fingers in more than one clandestine pie that he didn’t know off.
“Who was that,” Broots asked, looking at the psychiatrist.
“I don’t know but I get this funny feeling that he might hold the answers to our current situation.”
Sydney turned when Angelo leaned in over his shoulder and traced the outline of the boy’s body.
“Angelo, what do you feel,” Sydney asked, watching as the man-child continued to trace with his fingers across the screen.
“Scared, lonely, afraid. Scared, Sydney. Boy scared.”
“Angelo, do you know this boy?”
“Bad man, he hurt boy. Boy scared of bad man. Bad man make boy dead inside.”
Sydney was about to ask another question when Angelo turned away and ran out the door. He knew better than to ran after Angelo, instead turned his gaze to Broots while Angelo’s revelation ran around his head. Then he remembered where he had heard the first part of Angelo’s words.
The photos. The person who had taken the photos must be the same person as the boy. His concern for Parker increased. If what Angelo had said is true, she might be in more danger than any of them at ever imagined. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed her number. The tone sounded in his ear and frustrated he pounded the table. They were still cut off from the outside.
How long will it take before we’ll be able to watch the last segment,” he asked Broots as he made his way towards the door.
“It should be ready by this afternoon.”
“Good. I’m going to see Mr. Parker. I need to find out if he knew about this project.”
************
Mythos House, Michigan
Cain made the hardest decision he had ever made in his life. While he worked with Davey he decided to leave with the boy. He didn’t want Davey to grow up under Raines’ tutelage. He wanted the boy to have a chance at a life that he never had.
All he had to do now if figure out how to make his escape without arousing the suspicions of his mentor and the sweepers.
************
Undisclosed vicinity, Blue water
Cox watched Jarod stare at the gun before retuning it to the drawer. He was angry but he understood that if he pushed now that he could jeopardize the project, and that was not what he wanted. Promising the pretender that he would pay for his disobedience, he reached out and answered his ringing phone.
“We have a problem,” his informant said, “The schedule has been changed.”
Cox swore before asking when.
“Wednesday evening.”
He swore again. He had thought that they would have more time. He thanked his informant before closing the phone. Keeping an eye on Jarod, he dialed an eight digit number.
“The project is being escalated…I know.”
He stared at the pretender, wondering if there would be enough time.
“He’ll be ready.”
He listened briefly, before replying, “Don’t worry. Jarod will terminate the Triumvirate. After all, he wants to see his mother again.”
************
So, what do you think? Hope it was worth the wait. ;-)
