Sydney shrugged deeper into his coat, pulling his neck scarf closer around his ears. It was biting cold as only the weather can be in early March in Delaware. He looked up at Miss Parker's cottage and could see no lights from within. He'd left his town car parked at the roadside a few houses further down the road and had walked up.

Not for the first did he ask himself what the heck he was doing, prowling around in the dark, armed with nothing but a flashlight. He just hoped to heaven there weren't any police patrol cars in the area because he would have a difficult job explaining his actions.

He assumed that her car was either gone or in the garage for there was no sign of it outside. Glancing around, he switched on his flashlight and mounted the steps to the porch, the front door slightly ajar. Sydney reasoned that the alarms must have been switched off by Miss Parker.

Very quietly, he pushed the door open and softly called ... ..."Miss Parker, are you there"?

Sydney moved into the hall, not sure whether to risk switching the lights on - not that he could really remember where they were located, anyway. He moved further into the room and let the flashlight rove over the sitting room towards the fireplace. There were signs that Miss Parker had been there recently - her bag was still on the sofa together with a newspaper, obviously dumped there from when she had first arrived home, together with coat and scarf.

"Miss Parker ...... it's me, Sydney," he called again softly.

Sydney could feel the adrenalin surging and noticed that his hand shook slightly holding the flashlight. All he could hear was the smooth, regular tick of the old Grandfather clock in the corner. Despite the cold outside, he could feel the sweat gathering on his brow as he strained to see further into the gloom. He wasn't aware that he was holding his breath until he moved forward and pushed the swing door into the kitchen.

As his flashlight swept over the kitchen, along the white marble kitchen surfaces and cherry wood cupboards, to the glass vase with a display of early yellow tulips in one corner, the half-full coffee pot and tray of several mugs on the other side.

Everything was in its' place - immaculately clean and tidy as would be expected of Miss Parker's kitchen.

He moved into the room, stopped and let go of the breath he had subconsciously been holding - at the far end of the kitchen stood the breakfast table and chairs. As his flashlight moved across the table, he could see Rosa ...... poor, poor Rosa. He took a step closer, his hand now shaking visibly as he tried to hold the flashlight steady.

"Oh no, not this, dear God no," he said softly to himself.

As he looked further, he could see that Rosa had been dead for a number of hours, the bullet hole in her forehead quite clearly visible and the small amount of blood around the wound already dried.

Rosa was slumped in the chair, to one side, as if whoever had pulled the trigger on the gun had caught her by surprise. Her short, dark hair fell back from her face and her mouth sagged a little as if she had met death in mid-sentence. The tiny bullet wound - a completely round circle - had hardly bled and had not destroyed that lovely, kindly face. Sydney automatically leaned forward to press his fingers against her neck seeking a pulse of any kind but knowing it was futile.

Sydney straightened up and felt the nausea rising in his throat. ‘I should be used to death, working for the Centre, but God help me, I don't know what to do now,' he whispered.

He moved to the sink and grabbed hold of the coffee mug placing the flashlight on the surface as he did so. Filling the mug, he took great gulps of the cold water and then leaned into the sink.

‘I can't throw up,' he thought to himself ...... ‘Got to keep calm'.

"Just take deep breaths, Sydney ...... just breathe slowly and you'll be fine," said Jarod quietly from the doorway.

Sydney jumped back, knocking the flashlight to the floor, his heart thumping so loudly that he was sure it would stop. He raised a hand to his brow, feeling the shock ebbing away and the pure relief surging through him at seeing Jarod silhouetted in the darkness.

"Jarod, what are you doing here"? he shouted to Jarod, shock suddenly moving him to find his voice.

"I couldn't wait any longer so I came ahead. I knew something was up and it seems that maybe I was right, after all" he said softly, moving from the doorway towards the body of Rosa.

He bent down in front of her and gently stroked her face with his fingers, his voice stricken with pain;

"They killed her, Sydney ... ... ...the sick bastards killed her! For God's sake, why did they have to do that? Why couldn't they just leave her? Rosa was the kindest, sweetest lady ever; she never hurt a soul. God knows what this will do to Parker," he added softly.

"Whoever did this will pay; you can be certain of that," he whispered to Rosa.

Sydney turned back to the sink and refilled the mug with water. This time, he drank more slowly relishing the calming influence of the water. When he was finished, he rinsed the cup out and left it on the side.

Taking a deep breath, feeling more in control of himself, he said to Jarod,

"Believe it or not, I'm really pleased to see you - but not under these circumstances ...... there's no sign of Miss Parker but I haven't checked upstairs yet ...... perhaps I'd better look now," he finished lamely, bending down to pick up the flashlight.

Jarod stood up and taking one last look at Rosa, he strode over to the window, carefully scanning the darkness, keeping his flashlight low on the floor.

"Don't bother" said Jarod turning around to face Sydney, "I've already checked and she's not up there but her car IS in the garage, so whatever happened, happened after she had driven in and entered the cottage. It looks as though she had time to dump her coat and things in the sitting room. I can't tell if Rosa died before Parker got home or after she disappeared".

Jarod continued without pausing, suddenly straightening himself up;

"We've got to get out of here - there's no telling if we've been seen and I'm pretty sure there are some pressure sensor alarms scattered around - I can't believe the Centre have not included Parker in their routine surveillance. It won't be long before someone checks - they'll be sending a team to ‘deal' with Rosa. This has all the hallmarks of a Centre ‘operation' and, I for one, do not want to be around when those bastards come calling".

Sydney frowned, his face heavy in thought and then looked up at Jarod quickly;

"You're right, it doesn't look like a burglary gone wrong - nothing seems to be disturbed or missing - not that I'm really familiar with Miss Parker's things - it looks to me like an execution, Centre-style!"

Jarod turned back to the window again, quickly scanning the road. As he did so, he asked over his shoulder, "Where did you leave your car"?

Sydney told him it was parked a few houses down the road, away from Parker's cottage.

"Right then, it will have to stay there for now ... ...... What the hell is that"? Jarod shouted suddenly, turning back to the window.

They heard the sound of several cars being raced along the road, tyres screeching to a halt outside, full headlamps blazing through the darkness. There were sounds of doors being opened and loudly slammed, feet scraping against gravel and harsh sounding voices carrying across the quiet of the night.

Jarod leapt away from the window, grabbing Sydney's arm in a tight hold as he passed him.

"Come on, Syd ......... sweepers ... ... ... we are out of here NOW," he yelled, the panic he felt clearly showing through.

Jarod pulled Sydney into the hall and rushed him to the far corner beneath the stairs. He could see a narrow door, which he had first assumed was a cupboard beneath the stairs, but soon discovered that it actually connected to a narrow passageway leading to the back terrace and garden. Taking the key from the lock, Jarod pushed Sydney through the door and into the passageway, quietly locking the door behind them.

As they moved ahead, they could hear the sounds of voices shouting and the loud tramping of feet up the hallway and stairs.

"Did you never wonder how easily I could slip in and out of Parker's cottage, Sydney," he whispered with a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Somehow, Parker always forgot about this door when it came to setting the alarms," then he added wryly, "not that her alarm system was ever a problem for me"!

They hurried through and out into the darkness, running hard towards the cover of a large stand of trees, the cold wind rushing up into their faces.

"I'm parked about a quarter of a mile away, across this field. We need to hurry, Sydney," he whispered. "Come on, keep close to these trees".

He hurried his old mentor through the trees and shrubbery, glad of the fact that the moon had decided to show them a little additional light.

"Keep your flashlight down on the ground - we don't want to make it too easy for them, do we"? said Jarod with a smile, some of his old humour resurfacing.

Jarod urged Sydney along, setting a fast pace through the trees. At one point, they heard the sound of heavy shoes crunching on gravel and then the sound of toppling terracotta pots being overturned, muttered curses carrying across the cold air of the night, as the sweepers carried out their search.

"I'm too old for this, Jarod," gasped Sydney, as he tried to catch his breath, "I've got to stop for a few seconds". Sydney bent over, trying to draw in deep breaths to relieve the exhaustion in his lungs. His heart was pumping fast and the perspiration cooling on his face in the cold wind.

"Come on, Syd, we're almost there now, just a few more yards to go," replied Jarod, grabbing Sydney's arm again in a firm grip.

Suddenly, they were across the field and onto the hard surface of the gravel road. Tall trees lined the road making it even more difficult to see ahead, the trees blocking the small amount of moonlight filtering through.

Almost immediately, the SUV became visible and Jarod flicked the remote to unlock the doors, urging Sydney to get in the passenger door. Sydney fell against the door, his lungs labouring for breath, trying to find the energy from within himself to open it.

"Hold it, that's far enough," said the urgent command, coming from the blackness.

Both men turned quickly, trying to locate the position of the voice from the darkness.

"What the hell ......" muttered Jarod, his back against the door of the car, still trying to catch his breath. He quickly ran his flashlight across the road but could see nothing.

Suddenly, a man appeared to the right hand side of Jarod, tall and stocky, wearing the traditional suit and overcoat of a Centre sweeper, an automatic pistol balanced carefully in his hand.

Jarod shone the flashlight over the man's face and he could see that the man's head was completely shaven, seemingly to add to his pug-like features.

"Well, what have we got here, then," the sweeper mimicked, in a vein attempt at humour, moving to stand directly in front of Jarod, not four feet away from him.

"The Pretender and the good Doctor - together ...... I'm surprised to see YOU, Dr Green," he jeered.

"Yes, well ... ..." muttered Sydney, not sure what to say, or how to act, yet feeling this irrational desire to defend himself, borne out of fear of the moment.

"Just keep still, both of you," he commanded, reaching into his pocket with his free hand. Taking out his cell phone, he flipped the quick dial and started speaking almost immediately.

"Boss ? It's me ... ...Charlie ......my hunch paid off and I've caught the Pretender ...... yeah Boss, he's here too, ... ... ... yeah, rear of the house, across that field ... ... ... whatever you say," he said, closing the cell phone and putting it back in his pocket.

"Just stay put both of you," he ordered, pulling himself up straight.

The sweeper moved the gun to his other hand and nervously shifted his feet on the gravel. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he thought of the rewards that would come as a result of being THE sweeper who had captured the Pretender. This would mean promotion, maybe even personal protection duty to someone in the Tower. No more crap jobs down on SL27; even Willy would have to show him some respect now. As for that bitch, Miss Parker, well, she wouldn't be so high and mighty now ... ... ...

Suddenly, the lights went out... ... ...

He felt pain exploding in his right knee forcing him to drop the gun on the ground and then he felt pain exploding in his left jaw and then ......then, he felt nothing at all.

Jarod bent down and picked up his flashlight which had rolled near to the front tire, rubbing his hand and arm as he did so. It had been fairly simple to disarm the man; just flick the ‘off' button on the flashlight and drop it, and then follow through with a swift kick from his boot to the knee and an uppercut punch to the jaw. ‘Charlie' would certainly be unconscious for an hour or so and awaken with a broken jaw - Jarod was sure that he had heard the crunching of bone as he put all his weight behind the punch.

"Sydney, you OK ?" asked Jarod, walking round to the passenger side of the SUV and taking Sydney's arm, concerned for his old mentor and what he'd been through tonight.

"Yes, thank you, but after tonight, I think I could do with a cognac to settle my nerves," he added wryly. "Life is never dull around you, is it?"

Jarod turned away and ran the flashlight over the unconscious body of the sweeper.

"Help me move ‘laughing boy' out of the road; I reckon we have maybe two minutes at most before we have company," he said, moving around the SUV.

They took an arm each and hauled the dead weight into the shadow of the trees. Jarod spent precious seconds searching for the sweeper's gun and cell phone that he had heard drop, finding both quickly.

Once settled in the car, Jarod drove off at speed, anxious to put a few miles between them and the sweeper teams he knew would not be far behind them. He bypassed Dover and headed out on Route 13.

* * * * *

Parker lay on the bed and pushed her hair back from her face. Although still dark in the room, by stretching her shackled hand as far as possible in all directions, she had found the plastic bottle of water that had been left on the floor. Tasting it gingerly, she had drunk greedily from it and no longer felt the sickness from whatever drugs she had been given. She was sure that someone had administered ‘something' to her to feel so bad on waking. She placed the bottle next to her, knowing that dehydration would still be a problem.

"This can't be SL27; I'd be freezing my ass off by now - that whole level is a frozen hell," suddenly self-conscious that she had spoken out loud to an empty room.

As she lay there, Parker scanned the room looking for any abnormality or chink of light that might be showing through - there was nothing, only darkness. Slowly, her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness and she could see that, apart from the bed and commode, there was nothing in the room.

She scowled into the darkness, and muttered a few curses to herself; she drank more water, and slowly drifted off to sleep desperately trying to remember how she had arrived here in the first place - wherever ‘here' was exactly?

* * * * *

Sydney's head rolled to one side of the headrest; the fatigue of the last few hours catching up with him. Jarod glanced across at him and he couldn't help but smile a little as he watched his old mentor's face relax in sleep.

He felt a strange kind of emotion towards Sydney, comfortable to be with him yet fearful of what might lay ahead of them and how much danger Jarod had already exposed him to, albeit unintentionally.

‘Poor old Syd; he's not as young as he used to be, but then neither am I,' he thought grimly to himself.

Jarod glanced at his watch, checked his rear view mirror for the umpteenth time, slowed and then indicated to pull off the highway into an all night diner. The SUV bumped across the uneven parking area and came to a stop out of view of the road and away from the visibility of the security lighting.

Sydney came awake with a start, and, in a voice heavy with sleep, he asked "Where are we?"

Jarod switched off the engine and looked across at Sydney;

"Just outside Greenwood; I needed to stop for coffee but I also wanted to take a look at that cell phone - I'm worried there may be some sort of tracking device inside and I want to check who that sweeper was calling".

They made their way into the steamy warmth of the diner, to a booth in the corner where they could be sure their conversation would not be overheard. The waitress came to take their order almost immediately, filled their coffee mugs, placed the obligatory carafe of water on their table and went away again.

A few moments later, the waitress returned with a plate piled high and placed it in front of Jarod with a smile and the comment "enjoy"!

"Beats me how you can eat a plateful of pancakes at 3.00 am in the morning - I really fear for your digestion!" Sydney told him teasingly, taking a sip of his own piping hot coffee.

Jarod smoothed the raspberry sauce into the vanilla ice-cream with his spoon and grinned at Sydney;

"After all those years of eating the mush they called ‘food' in the Centre, I can't get enough of this; besides, I need the sugar for energy - and it helps me think!" he replied between large mouthfuls of pancake.

Jarod finished the remainder of the pancakes quickly and threw his napkin on the table. Gulping the rest of his coffee, he said quickly,

"Right, we need to start thinking things through carefully, Sydney." Jarod paused then added softly:

"You realise that you're now officially on the ‘run with me', as far as the Centre is concerned? You can't go back home in the morning, as if nothing has changed."

"You will be a target on their hit list," he said quietly, "the same as me".

Sydney sighed and looked down at his hands on the table, gently rubbing the back of one hand, evidence of his agitation. Looking back up at Jarod, he said,

"I've begun to realise that. I had time to think when we were driving along and I know that I have burnt the boats as it were ......there's no going back, even if I wanted to ... ... ... which I don't," he told Jarod calmly. "It's more than time for me to leave the Centre - I just didn't expect to do it quite like this," he added with wry humour showing on his face.

Sydney cupped his hands around his mug of coffee and gazed thoughtfully into the liquid as though the right words might emerge from the coffee.

"You know, over the years I've managed to save and invest quite a bit of money, oh not here, but in a little bank in Switzerland, well away from Centre prying eyes - call it my pension fund, if you like," he explained.

"I just wasn't sure if the Centre would let me live long enough to collect it"! Sydney added, looking up at Jarod again with a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Well Syd, it looks like you've reached a ‘turning point' in your life too; maybe it's not such a bad thing although I'm sorry that I've dragged you into this - whatever ‘this' is!" replied Jarod sympathetically.

"Talking of which, I need to check that cell phone," continued Jarod, taking the phone from his pocket and laying it on the table.

"Incidentally, where on earth are they recruiting these sweepers from; Charlie sounded as though he had come straight from a B movie set," he added laughingly, as he started to examine the cell phone.

"God knows; I've never seen him around the Centre before," replied Sydney, draining his coffee mug.

"Right, let's try the ‘last number called' button on this phone and see if I can recognise it, then I'll dispose of it quickly. Fortunately, it's still in standby mode," stated Jarod getting down to the real business in hand.

Reading it, he quickly put the phone down again. He was not surprised to recognise the number.

"It's Lyle's number. It had to be either Raines or Lyle. With Mr Cox back in Africa, it couldn't have been him". Jarod stood up with the phone in his hand.

"I'm going to the rest room to dispose of this and then I suggest we get going. You'd better give me your cell phone as well, just in case it has a tracking device planted in it and I'll dispose of it along with this one," he told Sydney. "Then we need to find a motel of some sort to use as a base; I need to set up my laptop and find out exactly what is going on at the Centre and ... ... ... we need to find Parker"!