Chapter # 9 - Pawns

“It’s me.”

“I’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK! The plan was to contact me several days ago. What happened?”

“I’m sorry, there were some… complications,”

“I didn’t mean to yell, it’s just that I’ve been so scared, and it kills me that I can’t tell him where you are. He won’t stop asking.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop saying that. How are you, really?”

“I’m surviving, look, I don’t have much time. How‘s he doing?”

“The new treatment in combination with the chemotherapy is doing wonders. The next cycle is to begin early next week, but the doctors are optimistic that this may be his last treatment.”

“How much longer?”

“Best case scenario, three weeks.”

“We’re going to make it.”

“You still have to get out, besides how did you even make it to a phone in the first place?”

“I just asked Raines and said ‘please.’ “”

“Now that’s almost funny.

“Are you ready for your part?”

“I’ll get it done, tonight.”

“Thank you, I’ve got to go now.”

“Jarod?...”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Chapter # 8 - Pawns

SYDNEY’s RESIDENCE, DOVER

Sydney groaned as the shrill of the telephone woke him. He fumbled around clumsily, his blurry eyes making out a time on the clock that was nowhere near a respectable time to wake.

“This is Sydney,” he managed to say eloquently, his pulse racing as the other spoke.

“Raines did what?” Sydney asked with a horrified expression, as the caller recounted in detail Jarod’s removal from the infirmary. Although the pretender was expected to make a full recovery, he was still very weak, and needed at least a week more on IV antibiotics before he could be safely moved and not risk a relapse of the infection.

Sydney tightly squeezed his eyes shut, as he was informed of the IV setup that Raines had ordered down to one of his private sections of the Centre. The wheezing ghoul had clearly lost all objective medical thought with regard to Jarod, and Sydney was beginning to wonder if Jarod might not be better off in the hands of the Africans.

How could he even think that? He appalled himself for the extent of his state of hopelessness.

OUTSIDE THE TECH ROOM, THE CENTRE, BLUE COVE

Parker strode down the hallway purposefully, crossing her arms confidently as she became visible to small group gathered outside the main tech work area.

It was worth dragging her ass out of bed at this hour just to see the expression on Lyle’s face.

“You rang?” she purred succinctly as she approached her twin and his entourage of sweepers. Her brother gave her a murderous look in return.

Parker winked at him as she made of show of loading the clip into her gun. “What wonderful babysitting skills you have Lyle. When I left, Jarod was tethered at four points to a hospital bed, one visit from you and Raines and he’s somehow managed to hole himself up in the tech-room.”

“I would save that cunning wit for the man behind the locked door. In case you forgot, Raines saw it prudent to keep Africa unaware of Jarod’s timely return, at least for the time being. Any suspicious activity on the mainframe, and the wrong people are going to start asking some very inconvenient questions.” Lyle replied tersely.

“You guys built that Titanic all on your own.” Parker remarked sourly. “So what are his demands?”

Lyle raised an eyebrow and quipped, “you make him sound like a terrorist.”

“What else would you call barricading himself in a room with only a keyboard separating his big brain from piles of files of our dirty little Centre secrets?”

Lyle rolled his eyes and Parker continued, “so what exactly have you tried - yelling threats through the door? I bet that was really effective.”

Parker could tell from her twin’s expression that she hit that nail on the head.

Lyle took a step back and with a tired rub of his forehead and summarized the situation, “it appears that Jarod somehow managed to overpower and disarm two sweepers and given the late night hour, easily made his way to the tech room. Thirty seconds after he entered the room, both video and audio feeds were disabled and the door irreversibly locked.”

“He’s holed up in there alone?”

“Broots was also burning the midnight oil, closing in on Gemini’s location.” Lyle made a show of checking his watch as he sighed in frustration. “

Parker ignored his ramblings and the twinge of concern towards her tech. She knew that Jarod wouldn’t hurt Broots, but the situation was very volatile and she would hate for anything to happen that would put him in real danger. Unfortunately the tech was probably the one person in the building who could override whatever damage the pretender was doing behind that door. Perhaps that was the point.

“Hell of slumber party those two are having,” she stated boldly before turning around and glaring at the small crowd of sweepers surrounding her brother. “So what’s your plan Lyle? Threaten Jarod into surrendering?”

“He can’t stay in there forever.” Lyle argued back, but his frustration at his lack of control was evident.

“You idiot,” Parker hissed. “The door isn’t the only way out.”

Lyle just looked at her impassively.

“The air vents?” she said with annoyance, turning towards a nearby sweeper. “I need a set of blue prints and the person in charge of the Centre’s air system,” she commanded with an authoritative snap directed at his face.

The sweeper looked helplessly at Lyle. Parker rolled her eyes and grabbed the sweeper’s chin forcing eye contact. “Now!” she ordered fiercely, smiling only after the man had scurried away down the corridor.

She looked back at her brother her eyes portraying the anger she felt, “It’s been two weeks Lyle, a full seven days short of your record for keeping Jarod in custody. I’m back in Corporate, where I plan to stay. I will not have your idiocy send me back into the field chasing after Jarod for another five years. If he’s not in that room, it’s on you and you alone.”

“Yet here you are, chasing after boy wonder like it’s your only true calling in life,” Lyle countered.

“Someone has to clean up the mess you and Raines made, before it leaves the building”

Lyle glared back at Parker, “Three hours ago Jarod could barely stand. If by some miracle the little imp has managed to get into the vent system, I can personally guarantee he does not have the strength to cover any appreciable distance.”

Parker raised her eyebrow, moving in close to her brother, “Nor overpowers two armed sweepers, stealing both of their weapons…”

“Look, I’ll be the first to admit there were some administrative errors made with regard to Jarod’s relocation from the infirmary, but this is not the time or the place to point fingers….”.

Parker pushed her twin out the way with her forearm, enjoying the small grunt when it landed squarely on his chest. “I’m tired of sounding like a broken record. This will be the last time I will clean up any mess of your or Raines’ making, period. I want absolutely nothing more to do with Jarod ever again; it that clear enough for you Lyle?” she sneered, striding away from the small crowd that had formed.

“Funny, last time I checked, Jarod was your own little crusade of the week. The meetings with Syd and Broots, the personal visits, I hear nurse Parker is up for next month’s Florence Nightingale award.” Lyle called out after her. He just couldn’t resist getting in the last word.

She just kept walking.

SL-8, THE CENTRE

Parker stared at the small screwdriver in her hands, standing back as the maintenance technician pulled the vent cover from the lid.

“Do you want to see the blueprints again?” the tech asked.

Parker shook her head, checking her watch impatiently. Nearly an hour had gone by, and they were no closer to even determining if Jarod was still contained in the tech room, or if he really was making a break for it. With a heavy sigh, she climbed into the vent, giving a small prayer of thanks that she had chosen a pantsuit over one of her skirts today.

A hand on her calf stopped Parker in her tracks.

“So this is the grand plan, crawling through the vents like the idiot savant?” Lyle’s sarcastic voice seemed to reverberate in the small vent space.

She yanked her foot out of his grasp, awkwardly turning to meet his dangerous blue eyes. “I’m just doing whatever it takes to fix your mess, Lyle. Jarod may not hesitate to shoot you or any member of your band of merry men, but I think by this stage in the game it’s safe to say he would think long and hard before sending a bullet in my direction.”

“Even still my men…”

“…are going to wait outside the tech room door. I will not have anyone else making this situation worse than it’s already become. We don’t even know if Jarod’s still in the tech room, chances are he’s taken refuge in the vents somewhere else.” Parker rolled her eyes as she interrupted her brother. He had made an already volatile situation immensely worse and here he was still fumbling for control.

Lyle sighed heavily, instead dropping a small two-way radio in the vent. “In case Jarod finally grows some balls, we’ll be but a quick phone call away.”

She took the radio without comment, and began the long climb towards the tech-room.

It seemed that she had been crawling nearly an eternity when she finally reached the back of the tech-room. She peered into the room, which was eerily silent, but it was hard to see much of anything from the limited vantage point the vent gave her. They had chosen this one for that reason alone.

It was now or never.

Parker kicked down the vent with one angry thrust, lowering herself gracefully onto the floor. With poise only a dancer could display she spun around, her weapon at the ready.

“Miss Parker.” Jarod’s confident smirk greeted her. The pretender stood mere feet from her, causing Parker to startle badly.

“You’re lucky I don’t shoot you right now,” Parker growled as she recovered, her gun not wavering from Jarod’s chest. She looked around the room, finding Broots sitting at a nearby workstation, watching the scene unfolding around him with interest. Parker raised the small handset she had carried with her, speaking into it. “It’s me. He’s here,” she curtly stated, tossing it aside once Lyle’s annoyed voice flooded the room.

Jarod remained unfazed as she turned her attention back to him, raking his form up and down. He looked ghostly pale, and the weight loss he had suffered since his return to the Centre was obvious by the way the loose fitting black clothes hung from his frame.

“So what was this all about Jarod?” Parker asked, motioning with her gun towards the nearest chair.

The pretender remained stubbornly planted where he stood. “We are all entitled to our secrets, Miss Parker.”

“Don’t preach to me about secrets of all things Jarod. You know damn well that in here, you do not call the shots. You are about thirty seconds away from having two sweeper teams in here to drag your sorry ass into Raines’ awaiting arms.”

Jarod scowled at her, finally moving towards the chair and sitting down with an unimpressed huff.

Giving the pretender a look of warning she walked over to Broots. “What has our little boy wonder gotten himself into?”

Broots look hesitantly at Jarod, who simply looked at the tech expectantly.

“Uh…he used that computer over there….”

“And?” Parker asked harshly.

“The phone.”

Parker raised her eyebrow at Jarod. “Got a little lonely, had to call a 1-900 number now did we?”

Jarod just gave her one of his damn annoying smirks. “Even the worst of criminals are entitled to one phone call.”

She turned her attention back to Broots, “Trace it!” was her authoritative command, her eyes rolling as the tech just looked at her helplessly.

“You think of everything don’t you Jarod?” she asked in exasperation. It was obvious the pretender had enlisted Broots to ensure his activities in the tech room were untraceable.

Jarod just gave her a cocky grin.

“Everything but your exit strategy. What went wrong Jarod?” Parker asked with mock sympathy.

“Who said something went wrong Miss Parker?” he asked annoyingly, lacing his fingers and setting them on his lap. “My exit strategy is right where I want her.”

Parker couldn’t avoid the surprised look that took over her features, her irritation increasing as the pretender tilted his head smugly.

“Unlock the door Broots,” was her angry reply, smiling as the tech scurried over to the computer Jarod had obviously been working from.

“Any last words Jarod?” she asked, collecting the two guns that lay beside Broots, the remnants of the pretender’s “suicide” mission.

“Aww come on now Miss Parker, the fun is just starting.”

“Fun?” Parker questioned with aggravation. “Nothing about this damn situation is funny Jarod. You had Sydney virtually chained to your bedside with worry for the past week, Broots working overtime to find and then save you from Raines, and now there are about fifteen angry sweepers, one wheezing corpse and a thumbless psychopath ready to make you pay for your latest theatrics. And here I am, two weeks back into the life in Corporate, and yet I spend more time chasing after America’s most wanted lab rat, including trudging through an air-vent in the god-damn middle of the night.”

Broots would have cowered under his desk at her tone, but Jarod simply stared at her. “Gee, I can’t imagine how terrible your life has been the last two weeks Parker. As a gesture of good-will, I’ll trade places with you.”

Parker strode over to the arrogant labrat, grabbing a wad full of his cropped hair until the pretender grimaced noticeably. “You are not the one in control this time Jarod,” she warned adding, “you are up to something, every fibre in my being screams it.”

“So you keep telling me.” Jarod replied neutrally, shaking out of her grip.

“I’ll find out.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“And when I do…”

“There will be hell to pay.” Jarod finished for her, giving her a small smirk that only served to infuriate her further.

“Uhh.. Miss Parker, I’ve disabled the manual control system override that Jarod… that was put in place earlier.” Broots interrupted hesitantly, clearing his throat.

“Go get Lyle.” she ordered, watching while Broots stood up and glancing over at Jarod briefly.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly as he caught the pretender’s eye.

“Don’t be. There was only one way this could have ended. I don’t doubt for a second this was all part of his sordid little plan,” Parker answered for the pretender, watching as Jarod gave the tech a small nod of gratitude.

“Those consequences still feeling pretty good Jarod?” Parker asked, poking fun at his remark he had made years ago back in the Florida Keys.

It was Jarod’s turn to give her an unimpressed glare, his gaze shifting nervously to the door as Broots exited the room.

“Anything is better than a lifetime of simming reality, even this.”

“I think that reality check is coming quicker than you think Jarod.” Parker counselled, flicking her gun upwards. “Stand up, hands on your head,” she commanded, imagining the altercation that would almost definitely take place if the sweepers saw Jarod in anything less than a submissive pose.

Jarod looked at her pleadingly. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Play the role of the huntress,” he answered smartly.

“I’ve already caught my prey. This is about control.”

“Why don’t I just bow at your feet expressing my profound regret for my actions?” Jarod sneered sarcastically as he rose to his feet.

“It’s for your own damn good Jarod.” Parker said tiredly, grabbing Jarod’s arm and forcing it upwards.

With a heavy sigh the pretender straightened his pose, placing both hands on his head. Together they stood watching as Lyle and his goon squad filed into the room, led by a very angry looking Willy.

“Thank you.” Jarod whispered as Parker stepped away, turning away from the crowd as she heard the pretender grunt in pain, followed by the clanging of shackles.

Without a word to Lyle she exited the room, Jarod’s word of gratitude still with her.

Thank you for what?

Another day, another puzzle.

Rubbing her forehead tiredly, Parker literally ran into Broots and a very concerned looking Sydney in the hall way. The look on the psychiatrist’s face was almost heartbreaking, the tech had obviously filled him in on what had transpired in the past few hours.

“Thank you for calling Miss Parker.” Sydney stated, ”although I see that I have arrived too late.”

“We never had a fighting chance on this Sydney. Your boy dug his own grave and he’ll have to face those consequences by himself.”

“He’s still not well. He should never have been removed from the infirmary in the first place; he still needs the IV antibiotics…”

“I know Syd! I’m not the one you need to preach to. Did you fail to teach Jarod anything about the concept of self preservation during your countless years together?” Parker said despairingly as the pretender finally emerged with his entourage of sweepers.

Together they watched Jarod’s hunched form shuffle awkwardly out of the room, his arms firmly in the grips of two sweepers, the rest of the team forming a circle around him. The look of glee on her brother’s face was sickening.

“What now?” Broots asked as the dark mass of bodies retreated down the hall way.

Parker turned and gave Broots a sultry little smile. “You are going to tell us every single thing that happened in that room.” She moved in the direction the tech-room, the two men obediently following behind her.

“An escape attempt gone wrong?” Sydney offered.

Parker shook her head. “Jarod was waiting for me, like I was a pawn on his demented chess board. Whatever this little episode was about, it was not about escape. If I didn’t know any better I would say he wants at the Centre.”

Broots held his chin thoughtfully. “That may not be completely off base. I don’t know who Jarod called, but I do remember him asking whoever it was he was speaking to ‘how much longer?’…”

“And?...” Parker asked expectantly as Broots sat down at his workstation.

Broots shrugged helplessly. “Think about it, he overpowered two sweepers, with two guns he could have gone pretty much anywhere. Why the tech-room, why not just shoot his way out?”

“You’ve been watching too many Westerns.” Parker remarked. “While I admit Jarod’s behaviour has been more erratic than the bozos kept locked up in renewal, there is nothing in the world that would make him want to be back here in the Centre. It would take one masochistic son of bitch to willingly throw himself into Raines hands.”

“Jarod will do anything to protect his freedom,” Sydney added, rather unnecessarily.

Parker started pacing behind Broots’ computer, “The Jarod I dragged back here was not the freedom-fighter I have come to cherish over the past six years. Let’s just say that Broots is right, that boy-wonder orchestrated his return from the get go. But, why? What could be worth losing his freedom over?” She thought out loud.

“Family, it’s the only thing that could possibly matter to Jarod more than freedom.” Sydney stated, furrowing his brow in concern. “Jarod always has motive, and a well thought out plan. We just need to connect the dots, and maybe his purpose will become clear?”

“Why does everything involving Jarod always turn into a damn puzzle?” Parker scoffed as her frustration continued to build.

“He was working on cancer therapy right before his recapture…” she stopped herself, as a scenario began to play out in her mind. “You don’t think that...”

“Wait a minute…” Broots anxiously picked up the train of thought, “Jarod’s boss did say that he couldn’t shake the suspicion that Jarod had a personal connection to the research.” Then he shook his head and with furrowed brows, continued, “but it doesn’t make any sense that it would be a family member, at least one that we know about, the clone has been popping up all over the map ever since Jarod was brought back. Lyle’s been to nearly a dozen cities in the last two weeks.”

Parker stood back, giving Sydney a thoughtful look. “The situation with the clone is too clean, just like the way I found Jarod standing like little Miss Sunshine on the roof of his apartment building.” Massaging her temples she turned back to Broots. “I want everything you’ve handed over to my thumbless genetic counterpart about the clone, Major Charles and their supposed whereabouts.”

Broots nodded, his eyes not leaving his workstation.

“What are you going to do Parker?” Sydney asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Parker asked impatiently, irritated at the typical psychiatrist-like question. Sydney knew damn well what she was doing, once again engaging herself as part of the Clone’s pursuit team, but that wasn’t why he asked. She crossed her arms, waiting for him to get to the point.

“What about Corporate?”

“My job is to bring Jarod back, until we’ve resolved the circumstances of just how and why he ended up back here, I won’t rest easy. The last thing I need is that dreaded early morning phone call telling me to get my ass back out into the field. Your boy made a big mistake the day he involved me in whatever scheme he’s playing out here.”

Sydney looked at her thoughtfully. “And if it’s true, that Jarod surrendered himself, then what? What will pursuing all of this accomplish?”

“Twelve hours ago Sydney you were desperately trying to figure out what Jarod was hiding, why are you changing your tune now?” Parker asked. She was used to the shrink’s constant ethical debates, but she had no patience to deal with his psychobabble tonight.

“Now that Jarod’s health is no longer a medical mystery…” Sydney took a deep breath as he collected his thoughts. “Maybe after all of this, Jarod is entitled to a bit of privacy.”

Parker glared at the shrink. “Fine Syd, have it your way. You can remain in the dark about this while Broots and I figure out what the hell is going on. Go stick your head back in the sand, you’ll be the first person I notify when Jarod makes his next idiotic move.”

She ignored the anger that flashed in Sydney’s eyes, instead turning back to Broots, “Call me when you have something.”

The two men watched as Parker disappeared from sight, her heels clicking sharply on the linoleum tiles.

“Broots, please try to figure out where they’ve taken Jarod.” Sydney pleaded.

“Already on it,” Broots answered back sympathetically.

With a tired sigh Sydney slowly exited the tech room, heading towards the infirmary. It may take Broots awhile to track down where Raines was going to keep the pretender, especially after the little episode that Jarod had clearly orchestrated. The best thing he could do at this moment is at least ensure that Raines had ordered the IV antibiotics that Jarod so desperately needed.

The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to know what was going on.