It had taken some convincing (and Jarod re-acquiring a gun), but Sam was grateful that they had removed the handcuffs and let him remove the duct tape around his legs. He had stood and stretched a little before sitting back down. Jarod remained sitting on the bed and Miss P stood off to one side.

"Start talking, Sam." She ordered.

"I was born John Atlee. My parents had gone to NuGenesis to get pregnant. I had the Pretender gene and I was identified as a potential Pretender." Sam looked at Jarod. "When I was around ten, I was taken to The Centre. I had been there a few months when Mrs. Parker came to see me in my room. She said she and some friends were going to take me home."

Sam glanced up at Miss P. The expression in her face showed interest in his story, but her posture was one Sam knew all too well. She was furious. Sam decided it was safer to focus on Jarod. "She took me to your parents - they were staying with Harriet Tashman at her farm in upstate New York. I stayed with Margaret and the major until my parents could be contacted. The major arranged for our new identities and helped my father fake a car accident."

Jarod interrupted, "I remember now - according to The Centre's files, John Atlee and his parents died in 1965."

Sam nodded. "Mrs. Parker said that was the only way to be sure that The Centre wouldn't look for us. It was a lot easier to do that kind of thing back then."

"And then?"

"And then my parents and I took up our new lives. We saw your father a few times after that. I think he was checking up on us. Before my father died, he made me promise that I would help the people who had helped us. I was only seventeen, so at the time, I wasn't sure how I could help, but I promised I would."

"How did you end up becoming a sweeper?" Jarod asked.

Sam grinned. "Actually, your father gave me the idea. I had just finished college and I wasn't sure what to do with my life. Your father happened to come by for a visit. We got to talking and he mentioned that they were hiring more security. I thought I had a great plan - have a man on the inside, one that no one would think twice about, one who could be free to move about. Your dad was furious."

Sam shook his head, remembering how angry the major had been. "He didn't want me near that place ever again. But I signed up anyway. I was determined to be the perfect Centre sweeper - one that they could trust with their most precious of commodities, their Pretenders. And then I'd figure out a way to get you out. That was the plan, anyway."

Jarod nodded. "When I first escaped, I looked at your personnel file. You were the perfect Centre sweeper. I didn't think I could convince you to switch sides. I should have known something wasn't right about that."

Now Sam smiled, pleased he had fooled the great Pretender. "Apparently, I was too good. Mr. Parker took me out of the field before I could be assigned to you and had me train new sweepers." Sam tilted his head toward Miss P. "Including that one. When Miss Parker was tasked to retrieve you, she asked for me. It was sheer luck."

Whatever Sam was going to say next was forgotten as Miss P's fist made contact with his jaw.

"You son of a bitch! I trusted you!" She grabbed Sam by the shirt, her right arm going back for another punch.

"Parker!" Jarod reached for her arm and pulled her back.

She struggled a bit before settling down. "I'm just sick of being lied to."

"I know," Jarod said gently.

She sighed. "Let me go. I'm not going to hit him again."

Jarod released her and she slumped down on the bed.

Sam rubbed his jaw, giving them all some time to regroup. He focused on her. "Miss Parker, when we were on the job, you know I had your back. I owed your mother that much. But I couldn't tell you who I was. Hell, until a few minutes ago, I didn't know what side you were on."

"I get it, Sam."

"And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you got shot."

Her eyes shot back up to him.

Sam continued, "I had to pick between you and Jarod, and I didn't think Lyle would kill you. I couldn't say the same for Jarod. I knew Lyle would believe that I wanted revenge for all of Jarod's pranks and had to take advantage of it." He turned to Jarod. "I had to stay close, to make sure that lunatic didn't kill you."

Jarod grinned. "You could have pulled your punches."

Sam grinned back. "I did." He looked down at his hands, his grin fading as quickly as it had appeared. "I'm sorry about…well, everything I did." He looked back up to Jarod. "I had to gain Lyle's trust so that I could be assigned to transport you to Africa. I was gonna tell you who I was on the plane, but then Mr. White showed up at the last minute and that plan went to Hell."

Jarod nodded, but Sam wasn't sure he was forgiven.

"After we, uh, 'landed'," Sam continued, "I wasn't sure how conscious the pilot was and thought it best to stay on the inside."

Sam glanced at Miss P then back at Jarod. Both looked thoughtful, so Sam waited to see if they had any questions.

It was Miss P who finally broke the silence. "Did you ever hear my mother say anything about her plan? Did Margaret?"

"Yes," Sam replied. "Margaret told my folks that if anything should ever happen to her, that we could contact James Pezzini of the NYPD. That he knew the plan and could help us."

"James Pezzini is dead," Jarod said, then smiled at Miss P. "But you met his daughter today."

Miss P looked at Jarod with a look that was somehow both incredulous and murderous. "You've got to be kidding me."

Jarod laughed, leaving Sam to wonder what was so funny.

~*~*~*~*~

to be continued...