He was dragged into the room by Sam and another sweeper he didn’t know. He thought about resisting but a harsh warning from Sam curbed that thought. He needed to save his strength and getting another beating wasn’t going to help. Relaxing, he allowed them to drag him further until he was thrown unceremoniously in front of Lyle’s feet.

“He still stinks.”

“On the way to the showers he freaked. I thought he was gonna chew my heart out. Took a little swipe from the motivator to calm him down.”

Lyle’s fingers curled into Jarod’s hair, dragging his head up so that he had no choice but to look Lyle in the face. “If you don’t want to go to the showers, I’ll bring the showers to you.” Jarod’s only retaliation was to spit in his captor’s face. That earned him an additional bruise from where Lyle slammed his face into the ground before his body got smashed against the bars of the cell by the powerful surge of water from a fire hose.

“Enough.”

Mercifully, the onslaught ended.

“We don’t want him dead. Just….less odoriferous.” Lyle threw him a piece of soap. “Clean the filth off yourself…and then…do the walls.”

He threw the soap back at Lyle while telling him to clean it. Not the smartest thing to do but he wanted to wipe the smug smile of Lyle’s face. Lyle didn’t get angry and that got his attention. This wasn’t good. Lyle crouched down, looked him in the eyes and said, “The world is changing. Mr Parker is gone. Mr Raines is gone. Miss Parker is…God only knows where. You and I are here, and I’m in charge.”

Sydney wondered idly if he continued to fake sleep whether the sweepers would leave. With a sigh, he opened his eyes. He knew better. The Centre had never been patient nor did they leave well enough alone. He wondered briefly why they had come for him this time. He was after all retired, not that he expected that small technicality to mean anything to the men surrounding his bed.

“Anything I can do for you, Willie?” he asked the dark man by the foot end of his bed. Willie didn’t reply, only indicated for him to rise and he did so, aware of the guns still pointed at his body. A sweeper threw his robe at him and as he slipped it on, he noticed his open closet and two suitcases beside the door. He turned and grabbing his chin contemplatively, asked calmly, “Where am I going or is that classified?”

He wasn’t in the least surprised when Willie told him that he was wanted back at the Centre. All he was left with was to figure out the reason why Lyle wanted him back.

She rose and folded her arms when the door hissed open. Lyle entered and gave her a bright, empty smile. As usual, he was dressed for corporate kill. She briefly wondered whether he wore the same clothes when he took his Asian woman for a last stroll in the woods. But then she remembered his jeans and flannel he had worn when Jarod had sent them investigating Lyle’s extra curricular activities. No, she thought, Lyle has work clothes for that.

“Accommodation to your liking, Sis?”

He only ever called her sis when he someone was about to die or disappear. Hoping it wouldn’t be her; she cocked her head and waited. Lyle didn’t like her silence and before she could move, could counter; he took two fast steps and slammed her body against the wall. Something hard, round and uncomfortably familiar gauged a hole into her stomach and she flinched, knowing that no matter what she did, he couldn’t possibly miss something vital.

“Tell me Parker, when was the first time you chose Jarod over Dad and me?”

“Hang on to something Angel, you can’t come with me this time.”

“Daddy are you just going to leave me here to die?”

“No, no, you’ll be all right. It’s not how they say it ends.”

Her throat tightened. Was this room the place her story was going to end? She wished her father was here, that he could tell her that it was all going to work out all right in the end. But then again, he might even order Lyle to pull the trigger while telling her it was for her own good.

“How long?” Lyle snarled and she didn’t like the look in his eyes.

“Does it matter?” she said, her voice firm and even. There was no one to rely on now, her father was most probably dead, Sydney was retired and she had no idea where Broots was. If there was a way out, she would have to find it on her own. The only problem was that she had no idea how.

“All those times that Jarod slipped through your fingers and no-one ever questioned your incompetence. You made excuses while blaming others for your failures. Your anger seemed so real, so focused on Jarod, so… potent that even I believed you’re willingness to bring the pretender back at all costs. But now we know better, don’t we, sis?”

She saw her death in his eyes and for a brief moment she wondered if anyone would know how and when she had died. As that thought registered she knew that Jarod would know Regret rose like bile in her throat and her eyes burned with unshed tears. Just another death to add to Jarod’s guilt pile but this time it would be different. Her death would be the one that will finally break his will, his courage and strength. It would allow the Centre to rebuild him in their image. She needed to survive, for Jarod’s sake.

Only seconds had passed since Lyle spoke but if had felt like minutes. She took a deep breath and said stonily, “Thumbs up for that observation, Lyle. I’m sure your exemplary track record is a shining example to us all.”

Lyle’s eyes gleamed dangerously and she knew she had gone too far when she heard the safety click off. “Well well, Parker, you think you know all the right buttons to push, don’t you? You're unarmed, at my mercy. And yet you still persist in hiding behind that trademark sarcasm of yours. Not so smart when you don't have a gun to back it up, is it?” He playfully shook his head at her, “Naughty –”

She lifted her chin, her features carefully arranged in a mask of indifference. Lyle bored the gun a little deeper into her skin. His breath was warm and uncomfortably close as he continued, “– Parker. What are you going to do now?” Lyle said, mocking her hope, “Make a dash for the door?”

“What do you want?” she asked quietly and forcing herself not to snap back an appropriate response.

“I think I’ve been down this road before with Jarod. Want to know what I told lover boy?”

“Let me guess, world peace?”

“There you go again, Parker. That sarcasm of yours isn’t helping you out. I can always have this conversation with Jarod after I put a bullet in your head.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes and willed moisture into her mouth. Lyle had her and they both knew it.

“If you wanted me dead you would have pulled the trigger the moment you walked in that door. So, what do you want, Lyle?” she said.

“I want your cooperation.”

“You have it.” It was the only answer she could give and Lyle knew it.

It wasn’t the first time somebody related to the Centre has risen from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix, Sydney thought silently as he checked the monitors that stood beside the bed. He had survived the Centre for a lot longer than most and he had thought he’d be immune to its machinations. He was wrong.

When he had arrived at the Centre, they had taken him to a room in one of the many sublevels and allowed him to dress. No one had spoken since they had left his house and he had not asked. And then they had taken him to see Lyle who was seated behind the Chairman’s desk, a smug grin playing on his features. He had listened while the sociopath had explained his role to him and had wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

Sydney adjusted the oxygen mask against Jarod’s face. His prodigy had broken both of the lower bones in his arm and two ribs, all on the left side. His body temperature had been dangerously low. Even now it was just barely in range of his core body temperature. Bruises and scrapes covered the rest of his body. The scar on his left cheek stood out visibly against the pallor of his skin and reminded Sydney of the raw wound that had been there not so long ago.

“Sydney.” Jarod’s voice was just a whisper but it was lucid. He shifted his gaze and saw that Jarod’s eyes were open and focused on him.

“How are you feeling?” Sydney asked, aware of the stupidity of the question even as he spoke. The Centre has never cared how Jarod felt, only that he did what he was told. He pushed back his own memories and guilt. Now was not the time.

Jarod’s breath clouded against the oxygen mask before the pretender reached upwards and removed the mask. Sydney thought about protesting and then decided again it.

“Where’s Parker?”

It was just like Jarod to ignore his own pain and focus on her first. Lyle had not told him what had happened except that Jarod was back and so was Miss Parker. And that he was to give no indication that Miss Parker was anything but loyal to the Centre. Aware of Lyle’s earlier threats and with the camera focused on him and the occupant in the bed, he said, “She’s in her office. She has asked to be notified when you woke.”

Jarod frowned and Sydney could see the confusion in his eyes.

“I…don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand, Jarod?” Lyle entered the room smoothly, a smile of triumph on his face, tugging at his glove. It was the red one today. He wears his missing thumb like a trophy, Sydney thought, like a war hero of old. He really is insane.

“Where is she? What have you done with her?”

Lyle turned his gaze to Sydney, the familiar tilt of his head strengthening his allusion of puzzlement. “Boy wonder seems a tad confused, Syd.”

Jarod struggled upward, his face edged with pain and fear but underneath those layers, Sydney saw determination and anger. Jarod opened his mouth and then hesitated when a familiar figure entered the room and came to a standstill beside Lyle.

“Jarod,” Miss Parker said with a fake smile, her make-up flawless, and her mini as short as ever. She looked like she had never left, like the past three months had never happened. Panic and anguish flashed across Jarod’s face in as many seconds before his eyes settled from Parker’s to Lyle.

“What have you done to her, Lyle?” His voice was dangerously low and Sydney knew that Jarod would kill Lyle without batting an eyelid.

“What makes you think Lyle has done anything to me, Jarod?” Miss Parker asked, drawing the pretender’s attention back to her. Jarod didn’t say anything, only watched as she rounded the bed and came to a standstill by his arm. “Do you even remember what happened the last time I saw you?”

“Do you?” Jarod asked matter-of-factly, before focusing his gaze on Lyle. “I’m impressed, Lyle. The Centre has really outdone itself. What was it? Memory suppression? Black mail? Well, I’m not buying it.”

“Sydney, I thought you had explained the events leading up to his return to him.” Lyle said.

“I was about to before you walked in.” Not waiting for Lyle’s approval, he turned to Jarod. “You were in a car accident, Jarod. You had been in coma for the past two weeks.”