Jarod entered the hallway cautiously. His arm hurt but that was just a minor distraction to his current objective. And that was to find Alex.

“The ambassador is still alive, Alex. Your little game of tag is over. Looks like you’re not going to win this time.”

“You have to know what game you’re playing before anyone can win anything.”

Jarod turned toward the voice. Stairs led upwards and he started to follow, the echoing sound of Alex’s voice getting stronger. He had just reached the first landing when something hard hit him in the arm. He let go of the gun as a second more powerful force hit him in the back, slamming his body to the floor.

“How the Centre could ever think I was second to you amazes me to this day,” Alex said. He kicked Jarod in the side, watching as the other man curled up around his foot. “Sure, you can perfect any simulation. Once Mr. Altruism was finished, who do you think they brought in to corrupt your findings? Huh?”

“What?”

“Who do you think made the planes crash that you made so safe? Who found and murdered the witnesses you gave new identities to? Turned your vaccine into an epidemic?”

“You bastard!”

Ignoring his injuries, Jarod threw himself at his nemesis. Alex kicked backwards, hitting him solidly in the head and Jarod crashed into the wall, losing his grip of the sociopath. Somehow, he managed to follow Alex up the stairs. A moment later he reached a safety gate, too late to stop Alex from closing it between them.

“Tell me Mr. Altruism, where was your flaw in character the night we escaped?”

“Eddie and I tried to save you. You know that.”

“What I know is that while you walked around free, I was shipped off to the Triumvirate and turned into their puppet. They needed a backup pretender while they were out searching for you. Well, I’m not a backup any more.”

“So, Starpoints was just a way for you to show the Triumvirate how talented you were? And Eddie found out, didn’t he?”

“Eddie was a speed bump. Jarod, you turned a routine Triumvirate assignment into something wonderfully personal to me. Luring you was simple. That flaw in your character that made it so easy. Always risking your life for somebody who’s not important to your world.”

Jarod slammed his hand against the safety door. “The ambassador is important to the world.”

“Not the world. Your world. The Swedish ambassador? She’s nothing to your world. But Miss Parker is.” Alex paused, allowing the words to sink in. “In fact, you have no idea how important to your life she really is. And after today, you’ll never know."

***********

The Centre, SL – 10, 11:38

It took a split second for Jarod to realise that he wasn’t alone anymore. Tears blinded him from the sudden onslaught of lights. In fruitless defense; he raised the gun pivoting on the spot, as he tried to make sense of the hazy images that started to swim into view.

“No!” Jarod screamed – silently or aloud – he wasn’t certain. Miss Parker was crumbled at Lyle’s feet, her body seemingly lifeless. Lyle had a gun pointed at her, a veneer of outward calm and composure emanating from him, making the scene that much more dangerous in Jarod’s eyes.

“Oh, don’t fret, lover boy. She’s alive. For now... anyway. Now be a good boy and drop the gun.”

Jarod raised disbelieving eyes from Miss Parker to Lyle. His eyesight was still blurry even though he blinked in a desperate, yet futile, attempt to make the scene come into focus. He didn’t need to turn around to know that two sweepers were now standing right behind him, their presence menacing even in silence. Lyle raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly in mock exasperation.

“I won’t ask again, Jarod. Drop the gun or Miss Parker gets a big hole in her forehead.”

The Pretender didn’t need to sim Lyle to know that the Chairman’s son was serious about his threat. Aware of the guns pointing at his back, he let the gun go. It clattered on the floor, the sound harsh and loud in the hallway.

“I warned you. If you had done things my way, no one would’ve gotten hurt. No one but you, that is.” Lyle grinned in amusement. “But now I know your secret, Jarod.” The Chairman’s son grin broadened when he met Jarod’s blank stare. “I know what makes you get up in the mornings and I know what makes you tick.”

Jarod glanced at Miss Parker and then back at Lyle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even as he said it, he cringed inwardly. But it had been the most obvious thing to say while he tried to find a way out of their current predicament. Keeping Lyle busy seemed as good an idea as any.

“Don’t lie to me Jarod; it’s beneath you,” Lyle snapped. “I should’ve figured it out long ago. All the pieces were there, out in the open for anyone to see,” Lyle paused and smiled. “All the times she just missed you, all the times she had you in her grasp and let you go.” Lyle’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Jarod. “The Centre has always suspected that there was more. The only reason why it hadn’t been dealt with earlier was due to dear old dad’s protection. Well, that factor has been removed from the equation. And I know the truth; that’s all that matters now.”

“You don’t know anything, Lyle, least of all the truth,” Jarod stated calmly. “All it’s ever been about for you is to gain enough power to mask your desperate search to find reasons to explain why you were the one to be sent away, while she grew up in the Centre.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong, Jarod. This is a simple matter of self-preservation.” Lyle glanced down meaningfully, his anger readily apparent to the Pretender, “My sister’s life is now in your hands. The only way to save her now is to acknowledge that I’m the one in control. Can you do that, Jarod? Are you prepared to give up everything for her? Even your vaunted sense of entitlement to freedom and family.”

Jarod stared numbly at the sociopath before him. I’ll never give up, Sydney. His words echoed back at him as he tried to find any reason, any way to get them out of the situation. But he couldn’t trust Lyle not to pull the trigger. Lyle had even managed to throw his own words back at him, forcing him to confront an ugly scenario he had never before truly envisioned.

Would he be able to surrender to the Centre, to Lyle, fully knowing it would likely do nothing to save her life? All he had was a thin thread of hope that her life was more important to the Centre than what her death would achieve.

His silence was deafening and Lyle seemed to read his frantic thoughts effortlessly. The chairman’s son nodded and said, “Be honest, Jarod. Did you ever think what we could have accomplished together? I would’ve made you the rising star of the Centre. Together we could’ve done so much more. We could’ve been great but instead you continue to go down the wrong path. You continue to elude your true destiny.”

A maniacal laugh almost escaped and Jarod managed to swallow it just in time. Feelings of resentment and futility rose at the familiar words he had heard so many times before. “You don’t own me, Lyle. Nor does the Centre. This is my life. You have no right to control it.”

“That’s where you’re very wrong, wonder boy. The Centre owns you. We even have the receipt.

A hollow pit settled in Jarod’s stomach. He shook his head involuntarily, in an effort to banish any thoughts that what the other man was telling him might just be true.

“No, you’re lying.”

Lyle chuckled, the sound chilling in its intensity. “Fine, don’t believe me then. But soon enough you will realize that what I’m telling you is the truth. If you want a second source, there are plenty to choose from. One woman is particularly interested in talking to you, has been for quite a while too. Why don’t you ask her about the day she sold you for 30 pieces of silver?”

Jarod frowned, trying to make sense of Lyle’s cryptic words. The only woman he knew that could possibly have anything to do with the Centre this far back was…NO, she wouldn’t have…

“Goodbye Jarod. And don’t worry. I’ll take real good care of Miss Parker.”

Shaken from the nightmare he didn’t want to envision, he realized belatedly what Lyle had said. Fear for his wife flooded his senses. He took a step towards Lyle, ignoring the two men who had until now stood silently behind him. “Lyle, don’t you hurt her.” A hand closed around his arm but he jerked his limb away. “Lyle, I swear to God if you lay a hand on her…”

Lyle’s eyes widened in perceived sincerity. “I’m sorry Jarod. But it has to end this way.”

Jarod surged forward, intent on reaching Lyle. Hands reached for him but he somehow managed to evade them, already a few feet closer to his target. Unfortunately he couldn’t avoid them forever. A moment later, air escaped him when he slammed into the ground, a knee grinding into his back. His ribs screamed in protest, the broken bones excruciating once again. He found that he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see as the cold steel of cuffs closed around his wrists. Even then, he continued to struggle. A moment later his shoulder blades jerked as they pulled him upright. Pain, intense and unwelcome flared through his body. Spots started to dance in his vision as he tried to ride out the intense wave. From far away he heard Lyle instruct the sweepers to take him to the Tower.

***********

The Centre, SL – 10, 11:42

From where he was standing, Sydney couldn’t see either Lyle or Jarod. But he could hear. Lyle’s cryptic message was all too clear to him. He knew to whom the sociopath was alluding and he shuddered to think what it would do to his protégé when he realises the truth. For a moment indecision weighted heavily on him as he tried to determine the best course of action.

It was time for him to do something.

Now he just had to figure out what.

***********

The Tower, 11:42

She turned from the window when the door behind her opened. Three men entered the room, two spreading out wide. She almost laughed. What did he think she’d do? Run? There was nowhere left to run to. Nothing left but the insanity of the Centre and its machinations.

“Hello, Margie.”

She didn’t return his greeting. Couldn’t. She turned away from him and stared blindly out of the window. She heard a sigh, heard him enter the room and a moment later the sound of the door closing.

“You knew this day would come. There was nothing you could do to prevent it.”

Her back stiffened in response. Her hatred for the man flared, making it difficult to breath. Difficult to think.

Her bed creaked and she knew that he was sitting there, watching her. Analysing her. Waiting for her to turn and acknowledge him. She couldn’t do that. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the glass. Thought about theday so long ago when she had watched her little boy encased by a glass box. When the man behind her had ended her world with one word. One act. She heard him shift on the bed, knew that his patience was infinite.

“Why did you do this? “Why my son?”

Silence met her question. She wasn’t sure anymore if she had said it aloud or if it had just been another silent plea to understand his actions. Either way she knew it would not be answered. It never had.

She was tired. She couldn’t play this game anymore. Didn’t want to play it anymore.

Jarod must never know. Her little boy. She wanted his innocence protected. She didn’t want him to think that she had been the reason why he had been held at the Centre for thirty years. That she had been the reason why they had wanted him back so badly when he had finally escaped. The reason why he was back here, in their grasp and would never be let go. Ever.

She turned from the window and faced him. Watched him watching her. “What do you want?”

He smiled. It was grotesque on that ancient face, his eyes dark and glittering. He had gotten so old.

“What I had always wanted, Margie. The unquestionable obedience of my daughter.”

***********