Part 5: The Calm Before the Storm
by N.R. Levy

Sydney felt Parker shift for the third time in five minutes in the seat beside him, the action prompting him to let his eyes drift over to steal a glance at his companion. Having seen her in various moods over her three decades of life, it was clear to him that she was both worried and in pain, and it frustrated him that there was little he could do to help with either situation.

Thankfully, the flight was coming to an end. Soon, they would land in Portland, then journey to the house where Broots was certain Major Charles and the boy were hiding.  Sydney could only hope that the man would hear them out rather than run at the first sight of Parker approaching, though even he had to admit she made a far less threatening huntress now that she was nearly six months pregnant. Each time he looked at her, he couldn't help but remember how beautiful her mother had looked at this same point in her life. She had been so hopeful, so certain that the tiny life she carried inside of her would fix the strain in her marriage. Looking at Parker, he knew that she faced a whole set of fears her mother could then have only imagined, though her beauty, as always, matched her mother mark for mark.

"Sydney, what do you think Raines is doing to him?" It was the first time in hours that she'd spoken, though she continued to look out the window and away from his face.

"If I know Raines at all, he's trying to find some way to regain control over Jarod. Raines is driven by a need to  break Jarod's spirit. If there is a way to do that, I'm certain he's looking for it."

Parker nodded but remained silent. She was exhausted, but fought the urge to close her eyes. She could no longer stand to sleep. Each dream she'd had since discovering that Jarod was alive was a torture filled nightmare. Images of Jarod screaming, suffering -- and all because he had tried to help her. She wondered what Major Charles would say to her when she told him about the events of the past six weeks. Would he blame her for what had happened to his son? It was irrelevant, after all, no one could blame her more than she blamed herself. Still, the two had reached an uneasy peace in the Major's cell during his stay at the Centre, and she hoped that they could build upon that in order to free the man who had risked everything to free both of them.

Parker felt a chill run through her, and silently prayed that Jarod wouldn't have to endure too much horror before they could get him out, and that whatever had been done to him could be undone.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Broots looked around the hallway and continued toward Mr. Parker's office. He had spent the morning carefully constructing a web of clues and misinformation that had Mr. Lyle convinced his sister had taken off to Florida in search of Major Charles, who, according to Broots' false information, was there following a lead on his wife.  Broots had even  used a few of the contacts he'd formed with some of the less-than-law-abiding folks he'd met in his travels with Miss Parker to "pretend" to have seen the Major with the boy, so that if Lyle arrived in hopes of upstaging his sister, he would be fully convinced that she was really there, following the trail.

He knocked on the door to Mr. Parker's office, and getting no reply, entered, quickly shutting the door behind him. He had caught sight of something interesting in Mr. Parker's hand when he'd passed the Chairman in the halls that morning, and he was anxious to get a closer look at it.

It amazed Broots how brave Miss Parker made him. Even when she wasn't there, just the thought that he was somehow helping her made him willing to take risks he knew he would never have taken without her. Those risks made him stronger, made him jump a little less each time that Lyle snuck into a room, or Brigitte glared at him, and he knew that Miss Parker was responsible for making his time at the Centre easier to survive. Of course, sneaking around the Chairman's office wasn't exactly a good way to survive, but he knew that the folder he'd seen was important and needed further inspection.

Broots bypassed Mr. Parker's desk, instead moving to the small credenza on the left side of the room. He was still amazed that Mr. Parker thought no one knew about his "secret" storage area, and that he ontinued to keep papers he deemed "highly confidential," inside of it.

The "secret" was the one thing that he had kept from Miss Parker in the past few years. He had almost told her once, but he realized that at times she could be extremely reckless and he worried that she would come in here searching for answers about her mother or some other lie her father had told her and end up in more trouble with Raines and the Triumvirate. It was laughable really, him worrying about a woman who he had personally seen take on six armed sweepers and live, but she was his friend, and worrying about her was part of the deal whether she liked it or not.

Pulling out several folders from the compartment, Broots flipped through them quickly until he found one labeled "RENEWAL." He replaced the other folders, then tore open the one he hoped would give them some answers about Jarod.

Seeing the contents, Broots drew in his breath. He stared at pictures of Jarod, who looked thin, exhausted and  terrified. Never had Broots imagined the genius who had made laughing stocks of the Centre's best employees -- himself included -- looking so weak and broken.

There were also two DSA's in the folder, and Broots quickly duplicated them on the hand-held recorder he had brought with him.  Then he returned the originals and the photos to Mr. Parker's hiding place and left.

In less than an hour he was on the phone to Sydney, who absorbed the horrible news of Broots' discovery.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Jarod." Raines had been standing in the Pretender's room for several moments watching him work. He saw the bolt of fear that traveled through Jarod at the sound of his voice, and inside he smiled. It was an amazing feeling to finally have this man at his mercy. He had lived for it for years, and now he had broken the man that Sydney had considered unbreakable. He had finally been proven right over his kinder, gentler colleague, and he was enjoying his time in the Triumvirate spotlight.

"Jarod, I wanted to speak to you about your last simulation."

Jarod sheepishly looked up from his computer, his brown eyes fighting to hide the fear that had knotted up inside of his stomach the moment Mr. Raines had spoken his name.

Today was the first full day he was allowed to work on his own. He had completed three simulations already, but each  one got progressively more difficult, and the last had taken him nearly four hours to complete. He had been asked to simulate the actions of a man who had entered a government building and gone on a shooting spree. He had killed two guards, and injured several bystanders. The Centre wanted to know how the man would have "performed" if he had not been fueled by emotion, but rather on a true mission of assassination.  Jarod's simulation results had terrified him -- if the man had acted as the Centre requested, he would have been able to kill a dozen or more people, and quite possibly to escape if
given the best set of circumstances.

"Why did you give the man only a 75 percent chance of  survival?"

"B-because, M-Mr. Raines, If extra s-security w-was in p-place for a s-special event o-or b-because of a n-national s-security threat, his escape routes w-would have b-been limited t-to t-two options."

Raines saw that Jarod, after finishing his explanation, immediately began to prepare himself for punishment. That was what pleased Raines the most, to see this once arrogant man reduced to a constant fear of failure. Still, he knew that overpunishment could destroy the parts of Jarod' mind that were still valuable, and so he decided to end his torment for today.

"Thank you, Jarod. You can stop working for today. Matthew will take you to the solarium for your walk now."

Relief clearly played over Jarod's face, and he stood on shaky legs to head toward the door. It slid open as Mr. Raines depressed the remote control, and Jarod came face to face with Matthew.

As he traveled the path around the solarium, he again tried to fight off the feeling that he had walked outside in the real sunlight. An image filled his mind of standing near a wrecked car with Miss Parker, who looked exhausted but beautiful just the same. She seemed so sad in his memory. But it wasn't a memory, he reminded himself. It was a hold over of his delusions.

He looked up and let the glass-filtered sunlight burn into his face. He missed her so much, and he missed Sydney. They were the only two people who had ever really cared about him, and now they were gone. He squeezed his eyes tight against the tears that threatened. Tears were useless -- that's what Mr. Raines had told him and he was right. The tears couldn't bring them back, couldn't undo whatever horrible thing he had done to Miss Parker in that last, terrible moment.

Lowering his head, he began another lap around the solarium. Maybe if he walked quickly enough, he thought, he could finally get ahead of the demons that haunted his mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The boy, who after much thought had decided to call himself Jay, stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had a suntan -- a real tan. He had never been allowed to actually feel the sun on his body, not until these last few weeks, when Dad had taught him to do things like chop wood and swim and ride a bike. Dad. God, he loved the sound of that word. Dad. He had a Dad.

He was still uncertain about how he should feel or act sometimes. He had only been out in the world for a little over a month now, and he constantly found himself tripping over words, worrying that he would sound "too smart," and give away the secret of who he was. Dad told him to relax, that in time, he would develop a natural sense of how to be around other people. Jay hoped that was true, because he was already certain he didn't enjoy feeling this uneasy.

Despite his misgivings, he had never felt so happy. He hadn't even known what that word meant just weeks earlier. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Miss Parker, when she'd described the things that "real kids" did. He had been dumbfounded, unable to conjure any idea of what she meant. Now he knew. He would always be grateful to her that she had tried to help him, even though it had been Dad and Jarod who had actually set him free.

Jay walked outside and picked up the basketball that sat on the front porch of their house. His Dad had gone to check with some contacts and see if there had been any word from Jarod. They were both terribly worried about him, and he knew Dad was still upset that Jarod had stayed behind at the airfield that
day.

Jay smiled to himself and headed toward the basketball hoop in the driveway. He was amazingly good at the game, despite his brief time playing, and though he knew he owed that in some measure to his pretending skills, he also had discovered a genuine love of the sport.

As he shot from various points on the driveway, Jay thought about what had made Jarod choose to stay. He was certain that it had been Miss Parker. He had seen the look on his brother's face when the bullet hit her, sending her flying into her father's arms. He also remembered the way Miss Parker had looked at him that day in the Centre, the love that he had seen there, but he knew that love had been for the boy that looked like him, not for the one who sat in front of her in the cell.

His mind drifted from serious thoughts into a make believe game. He was pretending to be Michael Jordan, and in this mode sank shots that would make the other kids in the neighborhood turn green with envy and was about to skunk an imaginary Karl Malone in the NBA finals when he heard the car pull up behind him.

He turned, expecting to see his father, but he instead saw Sydney exiting the driver's side of a dark blue sedan. Then, he saw Miss Parker climb from the passenger side. For a moment, he felt a rush of fear. His father had warned him that if anyone from the Centre ever came, he should run as fast as he could. But he couldn't run, at least not away. Instead he ran toward Miss Parker.

Sydney, too, rushed to Parker's side. Her face had gone completely pale when she'd seen the house the Major had chosen for a hide out. Climbing from the car, she realized that  she must never have actually looked at the address, or if she had, it had simply not registered in her mind.

"Miss Parker, are you okay?" She looked to her right and saw a teenage Jarod staring back at her. No, she reminded herself, not Jarod, his clone. She also felt the firm grip of Sydney's hand on her left arm.

"Parker, everything okay?"  She swallowed and looked up at Sydney. She took a deep breath and then nodded, a weak smile crossing her face.

"I -- I just didn't realize it was this house."

Sydney squinted as he wondered what she meant, and then his brain finally processed the information. He was about to speak when he instead heard the familiar sound of young Jarod's voice.

"Jarod said that he bought it after, well after your friend died. He thought you might want to come here one day. Dad and I, well, we figured no one would look here for us."

Parker nodded. As always, Jarod had thought of something no one else would. She had sold this house the week after Thomas' funeral. He had bought it in both of their names, and she had felt that she would never wanted to see it following his death. She had donated the money from it's sale to one of Tommy's favorite charities, but she had still dreamt of the life she almost had in this house with him.

"Perhaps we should move this discussion inside." Sydney looked at the others, waiting for some sign of agreement. Finally, the boy moved toward the house.

"Yeah, come on in. By the way, I decided that my name is Jay. You know, it makes things less confusing, at least it will when Jarod comes home."

Sydney saw Parker instantly tense at the mention of Jarod's name, and he reached over and took her arm as they made their way to the house.
 

* *  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lyle stormed into his Florida hotel room dialing furiously on his cellphone.

"Hello?" He instantly calmed at the sound of the purring voice on the other end of the line.

"It's Lyle. Any word on my sister and Dr. Freud?"

"Nope, luvvie, nothing new. She's been spotted in Tampa and in Jacksonville, coming up empty in both places. She called Daddy Dearest today and told him she would be gone for at least another day."

"It seems strange to me that I haven't been able to actually find her. Do me a favor?"

"Anything, luvvie."

"Check the Centre travel records, just to be certain everything checks out."
 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He saw the car and instantly thought the worst. They had come again, and they had taken another one of his sons.  He threw the car into park and ran toward the door, his gun drawn as he pushed open the door.

He moved in, ready to take on whoever might be there, but he stopped as soon as he saw the person standing in his living room. Miss Parker stood by the fireplace, her eyes glued to a photograph on the mantle. Her hand rested on her obviously pregnant stomach, and there were the faintest hint of tears in her eyes.

"What --"

Parker turned her eyes away from the photo and looked at the Major. She took a moment, then spoke the words she had traveled all this way to say.

"I need your help, Major. Jarod needs your help. He's in the Centre and we have to get him out."

Major Charles stood for a moment, just looking at her. He knew that this woman had spent the last three years hunting his son, hoping to return him to the Centre. Now, she was  standing in front of him telling him that they had to rescue him from that very place.

He knew that most people would have held the gun on her, gotten Jay and gotten the hell out of there, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had seen something in her during their conversation in his cell, something that he knew made them very much alike. Even more than that, he had seen the look on his son's face as he'd held her in his arms after the shooting. She mattered to him, and now it was clear to Charles that Jarod mattered to her.  He lowered the gun, and shut the front door to the house.

"What do you want me to do?"
 
 

go to part 6