Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Tucked into a tight ball, Terri slouched below window level in the cab of her truck and forced herself awake for what seemed like the hundredth time. For the past thirty minutes she'd been see-sawing between the urge to let the growing warmth of the small space lull her to sleep and her concern for Sydney and Broots, which kept her from being able to even doze. Rubbing her eyes, she pushed out of her slumped position and was just beginning to stretch when a tap on the window behind her sent her head-first into the ceiling.
Broots' warnings about leaving immediately if anyone appeared interested in the truck sent her scrambling for the drivers seat and the keys that hung in the ignition switch. As she was about to turn the engine over, a lucky glance out the passenger's side window revealed that it was one of the abbey's residents that had scared her so badly. After a moment or two of watching him, she realized he was telling not to start the engine. Recovering her composure, she climbed out and met him at the front of the vehicle.
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
"No, miss, but the men searching for your friends are in the abbey now and are being very persistent. They, and the abbot, fear for your safety as well. Abbot Michael asked that you come inside. Please, miss. We must hurry before we are discovered."
Shaking off her confusion, Terri quietly closed the driver's door of the truck and followed the monk through a concealed door in the back of the abbey and up a long narrow flight of stairs. Halfway up, her guide stopped and opened a small false panel in the wall, revealing a glowing keypad. He entered a series of numbers which opened a door leading left off the step on which they stood. Terri hesitated to follow him through, wishing her world would slow down and allow her comprehension to catch up.
"Please come, miss. Do you not wish to see your friends?"
This encouragement finally got Terri to join the young monk. He swiftly pushed the door closed and the stairway wall became a wall again, unrecognizable as anything else.
As Terri and her escort entered the isolation area where James lay, still mired in his fever-coma, Sydney strode to greet her and lead her away from the disturbing sight.
"Who is that, Abe?"
"Noone you need to worry about. Come sit down with me."
"But..."
"He's dying, Terri. If he does survive, there won't be much left that hasn't been consumed. He's nothing any of us need be concerned about any more." Sydney repeated, the clear note of satisfaction in his words surprising both Terri and Michael.
"I thought you were listening when I absolved Chris. James isn't evil. He's done evil things, but God has forgiven him. You do the same before there are no more chances."
Eyes lowered, Sydney drew and expelled several slow breaths, trying to find it within himself to follow Michael's advice, knowing the simple act would lighten the burden that so weighed down his heart, even if only a little or for a little while.
"I can't. Not yet. He's the reason Chris is here now, the reason that gentle sweet man has been forced to flee for his life. I've tried never to hate anyone, Michael, and I thought I'd succeeded.... before I met "James". I'm losing one of the best friends I have ever had because of.... that thing in the bed over there. I don't have the strength to forgive that easily. I'm not you, Michael. There are times I wish to God I was..... but I'm not."
Taking Terri's hand, Sydney led her toward the door, intending to show her where Broots slept and try to convince her to rest as well, but their exit was prevented by one of the brothers rushing in excitedly with a message for Michael.
"Seriously? Well, well. We'll take minor miracles where we find them and be grateful. One problem solved, Abe. The one in charge, Raines I think you called him, just got a telephone call and rushed out of here dragging that whole crew of fallen angels behind him."
As Michael turned back to thank and dismiss the messenger, a terrified scream from down the hall sent everyone in the room six inches into the air. Michael, Sydney and the brother ran for the dormitory, Terri hot on their heels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm sorry, sir. I should have known something was wrong. He was acting so strangely."
"No, Raines. What happened to Mister Parker was mostly his own fault. The Frankenstein's castle atmosphere of this place hasn't helped, I'm sure. I've seen this coming for a year or more. I could have intervened. I wanted to give him every chance to realize how ill he was."
"Jarod also bears some responsibility in his breakdown, sir."
His expression darkening, the man standing beside Dr. Raines leaned slightly forward, bracing his hands on the sill of the observation window to the room where Richard Parker lay, silent and unmoving.
"Indeed he does, doctor, and I'm going to see that he lives up to that.... and all his other obligations to the Centre. Yes. I do believe it's time for me to take an interest in our runaway genius. A very personal interest."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SEACOUVER:
"Jarod. This is me you're not talking to. Open up, just a little."
"I said I'd try. I didn't guarantee anything.'
"You're not trying. If you were making any effort at all I'd at least give you credit for that, but all I'm getting is evasions and non-answers."
"I don't open up, Methos. You know that. I've been.... betrayed too many times."
"You probably do see this that way. I saw two choices in front of me; force you into a few hours of honest, open talk, or keep watching and wait for you to implode. I picked number one as the lesser of the two evils. Try, Jarod. Stop being royally pissed off at me for a minute and just try."
"I'm not angry at you anymore."
"Oh. Moving right on to boldfaced lying now, are we? Damn, no wonder the two of you get on so heinously. You're so much alike it's scary."
"Only in your vivid imagination."
"Really? Let's see; you take all your pain and frustration and anger, bottle it and stuff it away somewhere, then you add and add to the bottle, ignoring how full it already is, 'till it explodes on the wrong person at the wrong time and you end up nearly killing somebody you only meant to pull a confession from. She gives all her pain and frustration and anger to an alter-ego that stays locked away in the back of her head, until she gets so mad, or it hurts so much, that the alter takes control so she can dump the sludge. Sound all that different to you?"
The expression on Jarod's face when he finally looked up told the ancient Immortal his campaign to crack the younger man's armor was finally working.
"I used to think so... but when I hear it phrased like that.... I don't know anymore...."
"You both went through things as kids no human being should ever have to try and survive. Your major obstacle now is realizing that you're still stuck in that abuse. You offered Molly her own way out, now take the one I'm offering you. Maybe by the time this is all over, you'll both be free."
"You'll never understand. I can't focus on myself when there are people who need what I can do.... what I can be for them....."
"That again. You're refusing to give up your pain because it's the motivation for the stings. No justified rage or unresolved crud from the past means no more being super-hero Jarod. Save the downtrodden and vanish into the night, leaving behind only the memory of your terribly selfless and courageous deeds."
"You're being cruel. You don't get it. You'll never get it."
"Cruel? Yeah, I suppose the truth can be cruel, sometimes. Doesn't mean it shouldn't be heard."
"Stop it. No more. Please.... just stop."
"One last question. If you can answer it honestly, I'll stop. Who are you more afraid of, just lately; Parker and the Centre..... or yourself?"
Watching Jarod carefully, Methos waited several minutes, but received no response.
"I know you understand, at least somewhat, how badly your control is slipping. You can't tell me you aren't totally, excruciatingly aware how close you are to flipping out and becoming everything you've been fighting against for four years. You can't use your pain that way anymore, Jarod. Every person you take down because of your rage and your sorrow gives those emotions more power. They're almost stronger than you are, now. Do you really want to let them become all you are, the way Parker has? That isn't you, mate. The world isn't that dark and cold a place for you. At least, I never thought it was."
"It isn't..... It wasn't...."
Head nearly between his knees, hands clamped over his eyes, Jarod began to feel moisture drop into his palms and fought mightily to control or suppress his tears.
Watching Jarod's shoulders heave as his efforts failed, Methos moved swiftly to sit beside his friend, wrapping a supportive arm around his back as he spoke soft words of encouragement.
"Let loose of this Jarod. For God's sake, let loose of this or it'll kill you. Quit fighting it. If it gets rid of this poison that's making you hurt yourself, then cry. Let it go just like you did the other night. Let it go...."
"I can't. Not again.... It was because you were.... you made me feel safe.... you wouldn't understand...."
"What don't I understand? Tell me."
"No... Just let me go. You can't help me. Noone can."
"I can if you'll give me a chance. Talk to me. Tell me this secret, Jarod. Let it out. Let it go."
As Jarod tried to pull away, somewhere among the words he mumbled, one reached Methos loud and clear.
"Leave? I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you."
"You will, just like he did...."
"He who, Jarod? Get this one out, son, and the rest will flow like water. Tell me who left you. Who did this to you?"
When Jarod's fight to be free of Methos' comforting words and touch suddenly increased in vehemence, Methos retreated, but refused to let the question go.
"Tell me. Who was so vile as to make you think your emotions were cause to be abandoned?
"I can't! Don't you understand that? I'll lose him...."
Suddenly, his intuition provided Methos the name he'd been trying to pull from Jarod, but he continued pushing, feeling that, to begin healing, the other had to say it himself.
"Tell me about it. Tell me why he left you alone."
"I already told Duncan."
"Now tell me."
"I was... very little. I was desperate for someone, anyone, to hold me, or.... pick me up and carry me. The more I tried.... the harder he pushed me away. Finally.... he just left. I didn't see him for a few days. By the time he came back.... I understood the rules."
Sweeping disordered hair away from Jarod's face, Methos gazed at him with deep concern.
"You must have been terrified."
"No. Not really."
"How did his rejection make you feel, then?"
"It wasn't a rejection. He was doing what he had to do...."
"Of course it was a rejection. The fact that he was under orders makes his actions no less reprehensible. Tell me how it made you feel."
"Don't say that. They were always using Raines as a sword of Damocles.... hanging it over his head. He had to obey...."
"How well have you really watched those DSA's? He loved what he was doing. You can see it in every frame, every expression on his face."
"No! You're wrong! Sydney loved me.... he still loves me....."
Taking Jarod's face in both hands, just as he had the night in the chair, Methos forced the young man to look directly into his eyes.
"Sydney allowed you to be injected with a drug that altered your brain forever. Sydney put science and research above any questions he had about your origins. Sydney took a vulnerable child and tried to strip his emotions and morals so he'd have the perfect little robot to do his filthy experiments. Sydney ignored the truth, even when it came from the brother that he loved. Sydney knew Jacob and Catherine's concerns about the project were legitimate and he chose to ignore them.
Sydney allowed you to be hurt, and infected and tortured, all in the name of his precious project. That's not love, Jarod. That's enlightened self-interest. Stop defending his actions, when you know there is no defense for them. No more punishing yourself for things you did under his control. No more hurting others because you think you don't have the right to be mad at him. No more. Cry. I won't leave you. I won't leave you."
Weeping freely now, Jarod collapsed into the circle of Methos' arms. Methos welcomed him, shedding streams of his own tears as Jarod sobbed out the worst of what had been burning him alive from the inside out for most of his adult life. For the most part, Methos stayed quiet, letting the young man purge himself, responding only when it seemed warranted.
Nearly an hour later, with Jarod finally calm and sleeping the sleep of the emotionally exhausted on the cot next to him, Methos responded to his handy-talkie, which was beeping softly in his pocket. Knowing it had to be Macleod, he hesitated before silencing and retrieving the device, finally deciding to answer the summons in person, despite what he was certain Mac would do to him once freed. Rising gingerly from the cot, so as not to disturb Jarod, Methos exited the room, leaving the door open.
"Mac. Keep your voice down. I left the door open back there and the boy's asleep. I want it to stay that way."
Raising his head slightly and fixing his best friend with a look that could have liquefied glass, Macleod growled a command and maintained the stare until it was carried out.
"Untie. The ropes. Now. "
"When you promise to keep that legendary Scottish temper of yours in check. This was my doing. No sense disturbing Jarod, now is there?"
"What have you done?"
"He's fine. Matter of fact he's a lot better now than he was three hours ago. We talked. He got rid of a lot of the nastier stuff he's been hoarding for a long time. I don't think we have to worry so much about him anymore. You should have been out for another two hours yourself. What happened?"
"She did." Macleod told him, nodding toward the monitor. "When she started screaming I came to. Something's gone wrong."
"What makes you say that? She seems calm enough."
"Now. It was the screams. Before my eyes cleared enough to see her.... I would have sworn it was a child being slaughtered."
"Nothing we can do now. The audio from the DSA should be well underway. This is no time to stop. It's up to her now." Methos reasoned, feeling Mac had calmed enough to risk untying him.
Sitting up slowly, Macleod stared down Methos again while shaking out the numbness in his fingers and arms.
"When this is through, and she's on her way home...."
"I know. I wasn't about to try to weasel out. I'll take my punishment like a man. I am sorry. I just felt Jarod couldn't wait any longer and I knew you wouldn't approve...."
"I understand. Doesn't get you off the hook for what you did to me.... but I promise to take mitigating circumstances into account. If he turns out alright, that is."
"He's fine, I told you. Much improved anyway."
"And you?" Macleod asked, finally noticing the red tinge to Methos' eyes and the subtle way he tried to keep his face turned just enough so Duncan couldn't quite get a good look.
"I'm okay too. Some of the stuff he told me.... I hadn't heard before. It got to me a little. Listen. I'm going up to my room for a while. Give a yell on the talkie when the kid wakes up or it's time to finish this thing off."
"You understand I'm taking that over."
"Yeah. After.... you deserve it. You've gone over the script and all?"
"Before you shot me up, luckily."
"Good. I'll see you soon, then." Methos said quietly as he headed for the staircase. When Macleod called him by the name they only used between the two of them, the one noone else even knew about, he halted, turned and walked back to his friend for a brief embrace.
"Mon frère. Vous êtes vraiment bien?" (My brother. Are you really alright?)
"Oui. Je suis. (Yes. I am.) I will be, anyway. I need some space, okay?"
"Yeah. Keep your talkie on. It might not be too long before either situation comes to a head."
"Will do." Methos assured him and began to climb the stairs again, a choice few of the horrors that Jarod had poured out to him still swirling menacingly in his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLUE COVE:
"Petey? It's alright. You're alright, now. Take it easy, okay?"
"Terri? Oh, man. Did they come after you? How come you're in here? What happened..."
"Petey. Chill for a minute, will ya? With all those goons running around downstairs, Abe and Abbot Michael thought I'd be safer in the abbey than outside in the truck. I'm okay."
"Thank God. I'm really sorry for scarin' everybody like that. I just can't help it...."
Perching on the edge of the bed, Terri drew Chris close to her, trying to calm him while Sydney laid two fingers along his wrist to gauge his pulse.
"We understand. Noone's angry at you. We know it's not your fault. Try and relax."
"Easy for you to say. You don't have Fellini meets Freddy Kreuger running in your head every time you go to sleep."
"Listen to me, Broots. Your pulse is much too fast. It should have slowed by now. You must try to settle down. The tremendous stress you've been under will adversely affect how fast your immune system is able to respond to threats such as injury or infection and you can't afford to become ill at this point."
"You're sayin' my back will heal slower.... stuff like that?"
"Precisely."
"Then help me, Syd. You said you could at least show me how to.... I don't know, understand what I'm seeing... so it won't scare me so much. You can, right?"
Dropping onto the opposite side of the bed from Terri, Sydney sighed softly, then responded.
"So much has happened since then, Chris. We don't have the time anymore for me to even make a start on what you need to know, and what happened at the house..... that adds a whole new dimension to the problem."
"That wasn't my fault! You said so in the truck! I wasn't even thinkin' about doin' anything, never mind...."
"I know, Petey. I know. It wasn't your fault. Hush, now. Calm down." Terri murmured soothingly.
"I didn't mean.... I'm sorry, Chris. Jarod e-mailed back to me. He's agreed to try and help you. He's looking forward to seeing you again. He claims to know two friends who can give you all the help you need. You must hold on until you get to Jarod. Everything will be alright then....."
Pushing aside his weariness, Sydney produced his best version of a bright smile and tried to lighten the oppressive atmosphere. "There is good news. The sweeper teams have gone. We can all go down and eat in the kitchen. Full stomachs will cheer us all up."
"Boy, do I agree with that!" Terri enthused. "You up for something to munch on, Petey?"
"Yeah. Syd is right. I have to stay healthy. Food is in the plan even if I'm not in the mood, I guess. Yeah. I'm up for it."
"Alright. Lead the way, Abbot."
"Christian knows the way. Abe and I will meet you down there in a few minutes. You go ahead. We won't be too far behind."
As the others left, Sydney settled for only giving the abbot a confused glance, waiting until they were alone before asking what was up.
"What's this all about, Michael?"
"You're holding out on Chris and me."
"I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"You've got his escape plan all set up. What about yours? You can't exactly stick around either."
Turning away a little, Sydney considered the question for several minutes before finally being able to accept that he had only one real option.
"You're wrong, Michael. That's all I can do. Someone has to make sure the Centre's focus remains here in Blue Cove, on me...... or Broots might not make it out safely. That's what matters. Besides, this all started with me, really. I was the one who put.... James in that bed. I was the one who gave Chris the painkiller that activated the chemical cocktail that's causing all his problems..."
Striding to Sydney's side, Michael tried his best to talk him out of what he was thinking of, but was unable to sway him even the tiniest bit.
"You're going to have to tell Chris."
"No. It's better if he never knows. In the event that the worst case scenario comes to pass...."
"He has a right to know, Abe. If they do.... do that, it would be the ultimate cruelty to allow him to live his life thinking you're alright and living yours."
After another few minutes of contemplation, Sydney acceded to Michael's logic.
"I suppose.... After he eats. I won't give him one more cause to claim his appetite's been ruined."
"Fine. As long as you tell him."
"I will. Terri too. We've been close over the past few years.... she deserves to know as well. Just in case."
"Just in case you're hungry... what say we go down and eat? They'll be wondering where we are."
Michael leading slightly, the two friends made their way down to the kitchen to join Terri and Broots.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I can't explain it any better, Chris and I don't expect you to understand."
"Understand?! What am I supposed to understand? We've been running for our lives for days and now you tell me you're gonna willingly walk back into that.... that snake pit... when you know damn well they'll be waitin' on you? I'll never understand that, Syd. Never."
"If I go back on my own, instead of being dragged back, my pleas of ignorance will carry far more weight with the Tower. Besides, I can only change things from the inside. We agree on that point, at least, don't we?"
His expression contorting with the effort of repressing the anger he didn't feel right showing Sydney, Broots simply stared down his friend and former boss and spoke the truth that was hurting him so badly.
"They'll kill you. You know that."
"Perhaps, but this is my decision. If you don't make it out of Blue Cove soon, you won't make it at all. I can't allow that to happen."
"And if my decision is to stay and defend you?"
"Unacceptable. My death would be a sacrifice. Yours would be a pointless tragedy. Don't you see that you're the one with everything to lose? If I die.... it will at least be for a purpose, and knowing even one person will mourn me..... I won't be afraid."
"Syd....."
"Broots..... Christian. Things are the way they are supposed to be. I don't regret any of what I've done in the past few days, but I must still face the consequences and try to come out the other side in one piece. That's my job for the next little while. Yours is to forget the Centre ever existed. Go live your life, raise your beautiful daughter and try to serve God the best way you can. I have to go talk to Michael for a short while. I'll see you again before I leave, I promise. Will you be alright?"
"No.... but give me a year or two.... and maybe." Chris tossed back, a wan smile on lips. "You'll be in my prayers every day, Sydney. I swear I won't miss one." he vowed, rising and pulling Sydney into a strong embrace.
"That's good to know, seeing as I have noone else to intercede for me." Sydney chuckled as they parted.
"Of course you do, Syd. Jacob, Catherine, your parents. They're all your guardian angels. You've had more souls pullin' for you all along than you ever knew."
"Hmmm. I hope you're right. I'll need some extra protection in the next few days. Where will you be when I'm finished with Michael?"
"In the library probably. They've got so many books in there.... I wanna try and read at least half of them before I go."
"Excellent choice. I'll see you there in... two hours let's say?"
"Two hours."
The friends parted then, Sydney moving back into the kitchen and up the stairs, Broots reassurances stripping away some of the intense fear he harbored about meeting his death at the Centre.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SEACOUVER:
As the sun slid below the horizon somewhere beyond the confines of her dark prison, Missy finally calmed enough, and felt secure enough, to step back into the recesses of Melissa Parker's mind and let Miss Parker wake.
Reacquainting herself with her surroundings, she focused in on voices that seemed to be emanating from all around her, straining to make out the words even while a very young, and still very frightened, part of her, tried to warn her to close her ears.
As the audio grew louder, she began to be able to make out isolated words, followed swiftly by the stunning revelation that she was listening to a long ago conversation between Raines and her parents. The evident fury in her mother's voice was something she'd never heard, a face Catherine had never allowed her child to see, and the strangeness of it brought stinging tears to Parkers' eyes.
Minutes passed and the recording looped back to the beginning, once again increasing slightly in volume, bringing with it a second revelation that slammed the breath from her as if the floor had dropped from beneath her and she'd suddenly found herself in freefall; the conversation was about her. Raines had apparently convinced the Triumvirate to train her as a Pretender and her father had not only taken their position over the objections of the woman he claimed to love more than life itself, but, in his eagerness to show his loyalty, he had been willing to throw his only child into a bottomless pit, into hell if necessary, if it would secure his place at the Centre.
Her focus having wandered slightly, Parker tuned back in to the voices and was startled when her own happy, eight-year old lilt reached her ears. Before she had time to consider what that meant, her father's next few words, Raines' gleeful reply and the brutal sounds that followed blasted Melissa back into the tiny corner of her mind where she ran to hide when things in her world became too dark, too confusing, or simply too real.
Having absorbed, second-hand, the sounds and Melissa's comprehension of them, Missy too hid away, eyes closed tightly, terrified to face the world of her worst nightmares that she firmly believed would greet her were she to open them; a slowly closing elevator door that traps her with a beloved mother who is forever beyond her touch.
Both aspects of Melissa Parker turned their faces away from the darkness of the cell and the horror of the words and sounds engulfing them, and slipped away to cower in a darkness deeper than either had ever known.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"She's too quiet. It's time to end this." Macleod announced to noone, his expression dark with concern as he grabbed his handy-talkie to alert Methos, hesitating when Jarod spoke from behind him. "Hullo. Good Lord, you look like ten miles of torn up railroad track."
"Pretty close to how I feel. Is Methos.... here?"
"No. He's upstairs catching a nap. I was just about to...."
"Don't. I'm not.... I need more time before I'm ready to talk to him. I heard what you said. You were going to bring her out?"
"Yeah, but if you feel like you need to do it, I'll back off. No questions asked."
"Thanks."
"You know the words and all, then?"
"Of course. If he comes down before she and I...."
"I won't let him leave. I promise you that."
"No. He can go if he wants. Just don't tell him.... don't tell him anything, okay? Let it be between him and me."
"If that's the way you want it."
"It is."
"Jarod, wait. Please." Methos called after him as he hurried down the stairs.
"I have to do this now, Methos. I'm sorry.... you'll have to wait."
"Jarod.... just tell me.... we're okay."
After only a few moments, which stretched into eons for the man waiting at the foot of the stairs, Jarod replied and surgically, though unintentionally, cleaved in two the heart Methos had so recently stowed in the younger man's back pocket.
"No. Not at the moment. I don't know how long this will take so you two should go ahead and have dinner. I'll buzz your walkies when I'm done."
Seeing Methos wasn't ready to surrender yet, Duncan held him back from following Jarod as the other walked away. Speaking close to his friend's ear he tried his best to reassure him, wrapping one arm around his chest from behind to gently keep him in place.
"Stop it. He'll work it through and decide for himself what he wants to do, but it's got to be up to him."
"I did it for him.... I was trying to help... to save him...."
"I know and so does he, somewhere inside. Give him time. There's no other way to play the hand."
"Yeah. Damn it. If he leaves.... what am I supposed to do with this sucking chest wound where my heart was?"
"You're over dramatizing, as usual." Duncan teased him, lightly shoving Methos' head forward in a brotherly show of affection before moving away toward the kitchen "He was right, you know? Let's go whip up something spectacular.... for us and them."
Brightening a little, Methos turned and followed.
"Yeah. How do steaks on the grill and potatoes Lyonnaise sound?"
"Good for a start, but she'll need more protein, carbs and calories than that."
"Shall I start pasta as well, then, while you fire up the grill?"
"Absolutely...." he agreed, turning back as the e-mail alert on Jarod's laptop announced a new message. "Go ahead. I'll be right with you." he told Methos, jogging over to the couch where the computer sat.
Jarod,
I understand that I'm very likely the last person you want to hear from right now, but within a few days, I may not be here for you any longer and there are things that I must say.
I wanted to thank you for agreeing to help Christian. Whatever your reasons, just know that we're both grateful. All I ask is that, until he's ready to move to the abbey there, you protect him with all of your resources. The Centre thinks he's dead. If they were ever to find out he isn't, he'd be as much of a fugitive as you are. Please safeguard him, and be kind to him.
If I survive, I will be trying to effect positive changes from within the Centre. I know that will be hard for you to believe, but please try. That would be all I could want right now.
My deepest gratitude and respect to all of you,
Sydney Abelard
Opening the attached file where he'd stored the previous messages he'd answered as Jarod, Duncan assured himself they were all still saved, then returned to Sydney's latest missive. After reading through the brief note a second time, he almost deleted all the messages the so-called doctor had sent, stopping himself with the thought that if the man were killed, the letters would be his final goodbye to Jarod and, as a friend, he had no right to destroy them.
Against his better judgment, he saved the new message in the file with the others, shut down the e-mail program and the computer and headed out to start the grill.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
