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Realised some of this was missing, so have updated with the complete chapter.

Been a very long time since reading any fanfic, and just recently started reading again, and finally turned to this, feeling more than a little shame that I never finished it. Had the first stirrings of wanting to write again in a very long time and plan to finsih this monster off once and for all.


Broots just couldn’t believe it, it was as simple as that. There was plenty of stuff that went on here all the time that nobody else would believe, and Broots had come to see as pretty routine. This though, this was something else entirely and he had decided that It had to be a hoax, some kind of trick.

He wanted it to be true, felt a small pang of guilt about that, and at the same time was terrified what it might mean if it was true. Nothing in this place was ever good, even things that might appear so on the surface. Sinister undertones were also the norm.

Double checking the report again, he blinked as if that might change it, or he might wake up from a very realistic daydream, or nightmare. Could it be a nightmare? That was yet to be determined, he supposed.

So what did that leave, just to figure out who was responsible, and how best to survive. Immediately he thought of his friend Gem and the Major and quickly dismissed that idea. It couldn’t have been them, he would have known, and it didn’t feel like something they would do. No, this felt like something Mr Lyle would be behind. Definitely not Gem. Gem talked to him about everything these days, especially the complicated feelings he had towards Jarod and all of the things he was afraid to say to his father. Nothing Broots could say would ever convince the young man that it hadn’t been his fault Jarod had left. They were working together on doing as much damage as they could, and it was really the only thing that kept Broots from losing his mind. Gem was the best friend he had ever had and they could talk for hours, and not just about geek stuff either.

Nothing was going to convince him either that the boy was the architect of this… whatever it was. Tragedy or good fortune. It was hard to tell at this point, although it would be nice for something to go their way for once.

Quashing his first instinct to race down to Sydney, Broots settled down and started combing through the incoming police reports, wanting to make sure he had all the details first and that it wasn’t some kind of trick. There was something familiar about it, something tugging at his mind, although he didn’t quite know what it was that was nagging him. Not yet. Rather than fretting at it, Broots let it go, let his focus move away from it. He found that was often the best way to allow the solution to present itself. If you forced it, it usually took much longer. Gathering intel, knowing that Sydney and Miss Parker would want to know everything, he focused on that for now and when it finally came to him, he felt the blood drain out of his face.

“Oh no,” he whispered, his mind making all kinds of connections he didn’t want it to make, and knew what this would mean to Sydney. The cowardly part of him wanted to just hide here in his little tech office, which he rarely ventured out of these days, working primarily for Mr Lyle, trying to find leads on Jarod. The loyal friend in him knew that he had to tell Sydney before he found out himself, be there for him, and maybe Sydney could tell him it didn’t mean what he thought it meant. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that it might have been Sydney’s doing, that just wasn’t possible.

Hesitating a moment longer, Broots fortified himself as best he could and told himself not to worry. It wasn’t like he was the one who had done the deed, he was just the messenger after all. With the decision now made, Broots saved everything he had to a disc and took a deep breath before heading down to Sydney’s office.

 

It was hard to look at Sydney these days, he looked so old, almost frail and it was clear that he wasn’t really here anymore, was just going through the motions. The friendship that had formed between Sydney and Major Charles, as well as Gem seemed to be falling apart. Broots knew that was because Sydney blamed himself for everything that had happened and just couldn’t face the pain in their eyes. Ultimately though, the blame really lay on his own shoulders. It was his program that had set this entire miserable drama in motion. Broots had to live with that every day and he had no idea how to get past it. The fact that Gem and the Major didn’t blame him made it both harder and easier for him. Normally he would talk to Sydney about these kinds of things, but he didn’t want to burden the old many any further. Talking to Miss Parker was out of the question. She would most likely tell him to grow a pair.

Sometimes he wondered if Jarod knew that it had been him, and if he did, what he might do to him. Jarod didn’t seem to be Jarod anymore, and if what he thought was true, then Broots might have real reason to be afraid. Could Jarod possibly understand, let alone forgive, the awful choices Broots had to make, every day? He had not seen Jarod after his recapture, and he was incredibly grateful for that. The wreckage it had wrought on Parker and Sydney scared him and he wondered how they just kept going. The same way he did, just doing the best any of them could to get through this. How Jarod had survived was beyond Broots’ ability to understand, and he only knew bits and pieces of what had happened, and didn’t want to know anymore. What he did know was bad enough and fuelled his nightmares and guilt.

 

Heading down to Sydney’s office, he became more sure that this somehow was changing everything, and he didn’t even really know what this was yet. It felt like some kind of fundamental shift in the ‘game’ they had all been playing for years, and not for the better. Blundering into the office, he didn’t see that Miss Parker was there before he started to blurt out the news.

“Oh my God Sydney, have you heard?” he said breathlessly and then belatedly saw Parker and froze. This was not how this was supposed to go. It was going to be hard enough to tell just Sydney. Miss Parker always made him nervous and unsure of himself.

“Heard what Broots?” Sydney asked, although in truth he didn’t have much interest in what Broots’ news might be. Sydney didn’t have much interest in anything these days and was on the verge of getting into an argument with Parker, that he didn’t have the patience or energy for.

Parker turned to look at him and raised an expectant eyebrow and when the moron was still just standing there gaping, she asked coolly. “Well?”

Broots looked around and closed the door, moving over to the two of them. “He’s dead,” he whispered. No doubt the news would spread quickly and the rumours would be starting, and then the bodies would start to drop, and he wanted to be well out of the firing line when that started.

“Jarod?” Sydney gasped, his face draining of all colour and he felt the world slipping away.

“What?” Broots asked in confusion and shook his head. “No, at least I don’t think so,” he said, but added silently that he probably would be very soon if what he suspected was right.

“What are you babbling about?” Parker asked impatiently, reaching out with a perfectly manicured hand to grab Broots by the face and force him to look at her, digging her nails in a little more than was required, frustrated by Sydney, by the lack of information on Jarod and she had just jumped to the same conclusion as Sydney and that had terrified her more than she wanted to admit to herself. Broots was an easy means to deflect that fear into anger.

Broots always had trouble around Miss Parker, but this kind of close proximity was enough to send him into a meltdown. “Mr.. Mr .. “ he started and then his voice dropped as he forced himself to say it. “Mr Raines.”

Parker dropped her hand in shock at the revelation, and felt so relieved that it wasn’t Jarod, that for a moment it didn’t sink in that it was her ‘father’, that old wheezing waste of oxygen, that he was talking about. “Wouldn’t be the first time that walking corpse has died,” she snapped, trying to cover her shock and the relief.

That was true enough, people had a habit of not staying dead around this place, and Raines had died more than a few times. The old bastard seemed to have more lives than a cat and Broots sometimes wondered if he hadn’t sold his soul to the devil for some kind of immortality. This time was for real, or at least seemed that way, and Broots shook his head. “He won’t be coming back this time,” he said softly.

Parker looked at him for a long moment, her mind reeling and then turned to look at Sydney. It wouldn’t be the first time Sydney had tried to end Raines, but it was easy to see that he had no knowledge of this and was clearly in shock. She doubted he would mourn Raines, and she certainly wouldn’t be shedding so much as a single tear.

“What happened?” she asked. “How do you know for sure?” if this were true, then the sharks would already be circling and if she was really lucky, Lyle and Cox would kill each other trying to get to the Chair first. Maybe she would get lucky with some mutual form of destruction and she could be rid of both of them, permanently. Just thinking that brought a brief predatory smile to her face.

“It’s all here,” he said, holding the small disc up, “at least everything we know so far. The cops are calling it accidental at this stage,” he told her and flinched a little when she snatched it from him. There were too many outside agencies already involved for this to be a Centre cover up, and it had the sense of being orchestrated so exactly that would happen, making it next to impossible to be swept under the rug.

 

“Accident?” she scoffed, doubting that very much. If he was dead, then someone had made that happen, and while it was a very long list of suspects, she could guess who was at the top. Brother Dearest. Or it could just as easily be some kind of scheme that Raines had cooked up to gain some kind of leverage or advantage. She would believe it when she saw the body, maybe put a round in it herself, just for good measure.

Broots nodded, “that is what they are saying,” he said, slowly edging towards the door now. There was nothing more he could tell them right now, and he wanted to be on top of any incoming information. Mostly though, he just wanted to be out of the firing line when word got out.

Sydney snapped out of his shock and looked at Broots, his eyes sharper than they had been in months, his mind actually working. “What aren’t you telling us Broots?” Sydney said, although he suspected he already knew what Broots was going to say. He didn’t know how he knew it, he just did.

“It’s all uh… on the disc,” Broots repeated, practically slinking away now as they opened the files and started looking.

Sydney was working through the reports and froze when he saw the location of the accident, just staring at the screen numbly. He was fiercely glad Raines was dead, although he didn’t think it would mean any significant improvement for Jarod’s situation or future. “He IS dead,” he intoned dully.

Parker was looking at the same thing Sydney was looking at but couldn’t see how Freud had come to that startling conclusion. This was all just preliminary reports, nothing definitive at all. A positive ID hadn’t even been confirmed yet, and wouldn’t be until someone came to officially identify the body. She didn’t doubt it was Raines though. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded of the two of them, as it was clear that they had both figured something out.

“It can’t be,” Sydney shook his head in denial, not wanting to believe it.

“Oh come on Syd,” she snapped, “you can’t seriously be upset about Raines!” Something was definitely wrong here and she hated not knowing, and that Sydney had barely even reacted to her tone was the most disturbing thing of all.

Sydney looked up at her and shook his head. “No, of course not,” he said distractedly.

“Then what?” she demanded, her hands curling into fists, frustrated at what neither of them weren’t telling her.

Raines had managed to miraculously elude the financial trap that Broots and Gem had set for him, although his position as Chairman had been more precarious than ever and so the natural assumption most would jump to was that he had been terminated. Broots knew better though, and Sydney’s reaction had just confirmed what he had suspected.

Sydney looked up at Parker, uncertain how he felt about any of this, only knowing one thing, he had to see with his own eyes that Raines was actually dead. Only then would he actually believe it. Raines had ‘died’ far too many times already. “I am going to the Coroners,” he announced calmly and stood up, picking up his cap and jacket. “You are welcome to join me,” he offered before walking out, leaving a fuming Parker behind him.

“Syd,” Parker growled but he was already gone and she turned around to face Broots, a predatory smile on her face, and she was pleased to see how he wilted.

“Look… look at the location Miss Parker,” Broots stammered out, wishing he had gone with Sydney to look at mutilated bodies, which right now seemed preferable to this.

Parker did and still couldn’t see what he was babbling about and she turned to start to throttle the moron and one single word stopped her.

“Jacob,” Broots whispered.

Her eyes opened wider for a moment as she hissed in a breath and took a closer look at the photos and report. Clicking her fingers without looking up at Broots, she was surprised to find another disc he was placing in her hands, knowing what she had wanted before she did.

They both looked through the reports from this morning’s crash and the one from decades ago and there could be no doubt, they were identical, at identical times and in identical places. Sydney had tried to kill Raines once before, very nearly managed it, so she supposed this wasn’t a complete surprise. It was hard for her to see Sydney as a killer though, not now that he was so broken. Why not go after Lyle and Cox? There was something not right about this.

Frowning Parker looked up at Broots, “Does anybody else know…” she trailed off as another realisation hit her with absolute certainty. “It wasn’t Sydney,” she breathed. He had been too shocked to hide his reactions, and usually he was a master at that, especially when it came to showing his own vulnerabilities. Sydney could keep secrets better than anybody she had ever known.

“No, not Sydney,” Broots agreed. “The skills and planning it would have taken to match the details…” he didn’t need to finish, they both knew where it was going.

“No,” Parker looked up at him in shock, shaking her head. “He wouldn’t.” Jarod was many things, but a cold-blooded murderer wasn’t one of them, not even when it was as justified as this was. It was easier to believe it was Sydney than Jarod. There was just no way. An annoying pain in the ass he was, no doubt about that, but a cold stone killer? Never would she believe that.

 

 

Broots just shrugged, wishing she was right, but after what he had heard from Gem, he wasn’t so sure. It had been months since Jarod had left his family, without so much as a single word, or a pretend. The trails they did find were as disturbing as they were infrequent. Jarod was off the reservation, spending money like it was nothing, that was the only thing they knew for sure. What scared him the most though was he didn’t know if it was meant for Sydney, as some kind of gift, or as a message to Sydney that he was back and he was coming for them. Broots was hoping something would come in the mail, or a call, give them some kind of hint that the games were afoot again and that they didn’t really need to be worried. 

 

 

During the aftermath of Raines’ death, Jarod had laid low, and monitored the investigation and the power struggle at the Centre as best he could without risking himself. There was no doubt that Sydney would have understood the significance, and Jarod wondered what the old man would think about it. Jarod wasn’t even sure why he chose to do it that way himself. He could have ended Raines in a thousand different ways, and yet he had chosen to do it like this, and Raines would never even know it was him. It was hard to ignore the need to talk to Sydney, the yearning as Sydney was really the only person that came close to understanding who or what Jarod was. The pain of his betrayal though was still fresh and it didn’t take Jarod very long to kill the desire to talk with the old man. Like everything else, Jarod didn’t like to think too much about these days, he just pushed those feelings and questions away and tried to focus on the new task at hand. This one he wanted to be more hands on, he wanted to see his face when he realised what was happening, that he had lost.

 

The security on the lead Centre personnel was tighter than usual, which was not unexpected and Jarod had planned for that. He was a patient man and could wait, he only wished he could do the waiting somewhere further away. Everything about this place gave him the horrors and his nightmares had been particularly bad these past few nights. He figured it would be a week before his chance came and he had to continually fight the urge to drop in on Miss Parker or Sydney, or at the very least, call them.

During the months he had wandered, he had begun to wonder if all of the half-baked conclusions he had come to when he was first out, travelling with Gemini and his father, had been a little extreme. It was doubtful they had colluded in the way he had thought they had, and it had made him feel even more stupid that he had believed it, as it made no sense. Despite this awareness, it didn’t really change how he felt or what had happened and he doubted that there was any chance that things would ever be what how he wanted them to be, or that he even deserved another chance. His father had been right about Lyle, and the shame that Jarod carried with him every day was a constant companion. Even though now, as he was cleaning and re-assembling the state of art sniper rifle, he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. Lyle had been behind it all, and the only thing he hadn’t yet figured out was why Sydney and Parker would betray him to work with Lyle, although he could guess. It was hard to trust his own judgement anymore and he had no idea what he believed and how to separate that from what he wanted to believe.

It was all just too hard, and being back here was making everything so much worse. He just wanted it all over, wanted some peace, which thus far had eluded him. Putting these three in the ground might bring him some of that, but it was frightening how little he felt after he had orchestrated the accident, and how dully empty he felt now, knowing he was dead, knowing Jarod was the one to make it so. There was no sense of jubilation or even vindication, no lessening of the pain, only some sense of relief that he knew Raines could never hurt him again. The problem was there were so many eager to fill his shoes and it was never going to be over. Never.

 

With nothing to do but wait, probably another day at least, Jarod decided he needed some sleep, without the demons and so he turned to the only thing that could help, and cracked a bottle of cheap scotch. No top shelf stuff this time as he didn’t want anybody remembering a purchase. It burnt a little, and that was okay, he kind of liked it, and it got the job done satisfactorily. No point bothering with glasses, Jarod drank straight from the bottle and drank himself to sleep. That gorgeous sleep of nothingness.

Two days later, Jarod was in position, clear headed and completely focused. There had been no drinking the night before, and no sleep either, he was too wired. It did feel good to have made a decision and to see it through. The power was in his hands now, and as he settled himself, closing one eye and peering through the sighting on the high calibre rifle, he felt good, in control. A figure jumped into incredibly sharp focus suddenly and Jarod hissed in a breath and closed his eye for a moment. The onslaught of feelings that surged through him made him tremble and it took a long time for him to regain control of himself. Opening his eye again, Jarod trained the rifle on the figure as he moved around, clearly unaware he was being watched. Unsurprisingly he was in an immaculately tailored blue suit and looked devastatingly handsome, in control and supremely confident. He was on the phone and moved directly in front of the window, it was a perfect shot, and Jarod couldn’t miss. Slowly he slid the safety off, slowed his breathing and put a little pressure on the trigger. It was easy to see that Lyle was unhappy, maybe even angry, and that pleased Jarod greatly. Maybe it was the call about the fact one of his hidden accounts had been fully drained, and Lyle could feel the noose closing in about him, and now his golden parachutes were disappearing. It was too bad Lyle wouldn’t ever know that it was his own money that was funding this little expedition. He wasn’t the one in control any longer, whatever plans Lyle had had, they were slipping away, and while Jarod might have paved the way for him to take the chair by taking out Raines, Jarod had no intention of letting him enjoy that. He had no idea what the current situation was at the Centre, and right now didn’t care. No doubt Lyle was not in good standing while he was still free, but Lyle always found a way to bounce back.

It was fascinating to watch him from the safety of the sniper’s nest, to be the watcher instead of the watched. Ignoring the swell of emotions that were surging through him, none of which he wanted to deal with or recognize,  Jarod made a minute adjustment and then squeezed the trigger. The recoil of the rifle thumped him in the shoulder in a rather satisfying way and he thought briefly of the image of young Kyle and of the times that Jarod himself had pretended to be an assassin. Sydney had always been convinced that pretending was the same as the reality of doing, and in some ways he was right. In the most important ways though, he was dead wrong.

Everything appeared to be happening in slow motion and with perfect clarity. He saw the glass shatter as the bullet pierced it, in a beautiful spray of crystalline destruction. Through the powerful scope of the rifle, he saw refracted light from the splinters of glass and realized that he had just smashed rainbows to smithereens. Parker’s voice, coming from across a chasm of time, talking about consequences whispered in his mind. He saw the shocked look on Lyle’s face as the slug hit him, the phone flying out of his hand, a spray of blood fanning out and staining the expensive art on the walls. The stream of blood as running down his neck, a bright brilliant red against the crisp white of his shirt. Red was a primary colour. A colour of passion and hate, warning and sex. Power. It was good to have colour back in his world.

Like a puppet with his strings cut, Lyle crumpled to his knees, elegantly, as if it was a well practiced move, and he belonged in that position. His face had drained of all colour and was a pale white, his vivid blue eyes wide with shock, startling in their vibrancy.

 

Jarod watched a moment longer, waiting for the emotions to hit him, trying to prepare himself. The satisfaction, maybe even some guilt or remorse. They didn’t come. Watching him go down didn’t fill him with a feeling of victory at all, he was still just as empty as always. Standing up with a sigh, he left the rifle where it was, unconcerned about his fingerprints or any DNA they might find. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a single packet of Pez refills and tossed it carelessly next to the rifle. Pez just didn’t hold the same appeal to him as it once had.










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