Family Ties

Part Four

By Rebeckah

"Sydney?" Jarod's voice over the cell phone elicited an unintelligible groan from Sydney.

"Rise and shine, Syd." Jarod's deep voice was amused. "If you don't hurry you'll be late." He prodded heartlessly as Sydney groaned again.

"Ahhh! What time is it?" Sydney peered groggily at his bedside alarm clock. "6:00 am! Jarod, why are you calling me at 6:00?"

"Have you forgotten your new project? Lyle is expecting you bright and early. And I wanted to talk to you before you left."

"Yes." Sydney sighed and dragged himself out of bed. He'd dress while Jarod talked, he decided.

"How's she doing?" Jarod asked, his amusement vanishing in an instant.

"Lyle wore her out yesterday." Sydney admitted honestly. "We're doing a test Sim today."

"I don't suppose you could skew the results?"

"I doubt it. Lyle is extremely interested in the results. I just wish I knew what he hopes to achieve with her. It's more than just Sims."

"I know. I received a rundown on the tests he ordered." Jarod's voice was grim and Sydney paused in his task of pulling out his clothes.

"What are you thinking, Jarod?"

"I think he wants her to bear the next generation of Pretenders, Sydney." Jarod's voice was pained. "We've got to get her out of there---whether she wants to leave or not."

"I agree, Jarod." Sydney swallowed hard against the rising nausea. "But how? Lyle's guarding her more closely the England does their crown jewels."

"I trust he's left the battery cables in the dungeon." Jarod offered dryly.

"He hasn't needed them yet." Sydney responded, just as dryly. "She's been cooperative."

"Yes, well she doesn't know what he wants yet, does she? Anyway, I just want you to know that I'm working on something in regards to Theresa. Be prepared, okay?"

"I understand." Sydney told him softly. He heard the click of the phone being deactivated and smiled softly with deep-seated pride. In many ways Jarod was more his son than Nicholas, who he'd never even known about until the boy was fully-grown.

Broots was waiting in "their" lab, already hunched over the computer set to one side of the large room. He didn't notice Sydney's presence until Sydney leaned over his shoulder for a closer look at the monitor. Broots had once again hacked into the security camera's feed and Theresa's new room, only slightly less barren than her previous ccommodations, was revealed. What had attracted Sydney's attention, however, was the presence of the two people who'd joined her.

Angelo, Miss Parker, and Theresa were seated cross-legged on the floor, eating breakfast. Even more amazing was the fact that the three of them seemed to be having the time of their lives---Angelo was smiling happily and Miss Parker was actually laughing at something Theresa had said.

The cheerful little party sobered instantly, however, when the door was flung open and Lyle stood ominously in the doorway.

"Keep an eye on things, Broots." Sydney said tersely, striding for the doors.

"Oh my! Yes, okay, Sydney." Broots said absently, his eyes wide and the worried lines on his face even deeper in his rising anxiety.

Miss Parker rose instantly at the arrival of her brother, her good humor vanishing the instant she saw him.

"Hello Lyle." She said coldly, her hard mask firmly in place. "What brings you to the slave quarters?"

"Now sister, is that any way to talk to the man who has brought the Parker name back into favor with the Triumvirate?" Lyle said lazily, his good humor restored by the instinctive fear on Theresa's face and submissive shrinking from Angelo. "Even if Theresa is hopeless at the Sims, she's bound to have at least one useful child."

He pretended not to hear Theresa's gasp of outrage and dismay, but his smile deepened fractionally. Miss Parker saw it, but Lyle wasn't the only person in the Parker family who was skilled at keeping emotions masked. Her eyes narrowed fractionally, though she made no comment.

"By the way, Sis," Lyle prodded again, "This breakfast isn't on her approved foods list."

Theresa pushed away the remainder of her blueberry pancakes, swallowing sickly. Lyle's first announcement had deprived her of appetite, possibly for the rest of her life. Angelo grabbed her hand, his normally vague eyes full of encouragement and strength. Theresa felt that strength flow from him warming her. She nodded once, a tremulous smile for her brother, before turning her attention to Lyle and Miss Parker.

She only looked at Lyle's coldly satisfied face for a moment, before turning her attention to Miss Parker, a hint of desperation in her eyes. Parker caught her gaze, focusing intently on Theresa. Theresa wished she had some psychic ability that would let her know what Parker was trying to tell her, because she had no clue. Parker allowed the merest hint of compassion to show towards the frightened woman before she left the room, brushing past her brother with a frigid glare. She nearly ran down Sydney, who had hurried directly to the Sim level.

"Hello, Lyle." Sydney said with deceptive geniality. "You're down here early, aren't you?"

"I told you I wanted to get an early start, Syd." Lyle said cheerfully. "And it's a good thing I did too, my sister was feeding the girl pancakes!" He made it sound like she was feeding Theresa rat-poison.

"And the problem with pancakes?"

"Fat, refined flour, refined sugar, she's got to be in perfect health, Syd. We've got big plans for her." Lyle answered with an unholy glee. "Make sure her diet is followed precisely, all right? Also, here is the test Sim I want her to do this morning." He slapped a vanilla colored folder against Sydney's chest and started down the hallway after his sister. After a few steps, though, he turned for one final word.

"And keep your mutant out of here unless it's visiting hours----clear?"

He turned back down the hall, whistling a jaunty tune. Sydney looked at the brother and sister, still sitting on the floor. Angelo was looking as distressed as he'd ever seen the man and Theresa looked shell shocked----what had Lyle said to her? She couldn't do a Sim like this!

"Angelo, go help Broots and Miss Parker." He dismissed the man absently, focusing on the more distraught of the two. He was confident that Angelo's suffering was due to Theresa's anguish and sure that if he could calm her that Angelo's mood would follow suit, even if they weren't in the same room as each other. However, for the first time since Angelo had been working with Sydney the man ignored is order and turned to his sister, who's hand he still held tightly.

"Go ahead, Tee." She told him, giving him the best smile she could. "Sydney won't hurt me."

Angelo nodded, and rose easily to his feet, a fact that Sydney noted with a twinge of envy.

"Sydney watch Tess." He ordered the older man firmly, his normally gentle eyes steely with demand.

"Of course, Angelo." Sydney assured him with more than a hint of surprise. Whatever Lyle had been up to, Sydney was suddenly uncertain he was up to the task of smoothing it over. Anything that roused Angelo like this had to be very serious indeed. He threw the folder on the bed and straddled the wooden chair and studied Theresa compassionately.

"What did Lyle say, Theresa?" He asked, keeping his voice smooth and neutral.

"He----" Theresa's voice trailed off and she seemed to almost fold in on herself. "He said that it didn't really matter if I was any good at the Sim today because even if I wasn't that at least one of my-----" Sydney braced himself, forewarned by the defeated despair on her face.

"One of my children would surely be useful." She finished in a near whisper. Her face was frozen and she refused to blink, but a tear trickled slowly down her cheek anyway.

"Oh my God!" Sydney groaned, biting the knuckle of one hand to restrain himself from commenting further. He closed his eyes, trying to marshal his thoughts away from his own disgust to help Theresa.

"Theresa," he began, leaving the chair and crouching before her when she failed to look at him. "Theresa, listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you today, do you hear me? You're safe for today, and tomorrow who knows what could happen?"

Slowly comprehension filtered into Theresa's troubled blue eyes. Like she had with Parker, Theresa exchanged an intent look with Sydney. Once again she wasn't sure just what was being communicated in that look but she knew that somehow Sydney was offering her hope. She started to feel again, the numb horror easing a little.

"What---" her voice cracked, and she paused to take a deep breath, licking her dry lips before she tried again. "What do you need me to do?"

"Theresa, you have a special gift, one that makes you open to learning new things, to reacting quickly in complex situations. You need to learn how to harness that gift, so that it is ready for you to call on at any time." Sydney told her carefully.

"Because I never know when I might need to react quickly?" Theresa asked, grasping the veiled message in Sydney's words. Sydney gave her an approving smile.

"In the Centre it is wise to always be prepared to react quickly and thoughtfully." Sydney confirmed mildly. "Do you think we can get some work done today?"

"Yes, I think I could do some work, Sydney." She smiled tremulously. "It might be a good idea to learn more about this gift of mine after all."

"That's the spirit." Sydney agreed, rising and retrieving the folder from the bed. "Shall we get going, then?"

Sydney escorted his latest charge to the same Sim lab he'd used so often with Jarod. He was serious about training Theresa and he suspected that his time to work with her was short. Already he was turning over strategies to pack years of training into hours. Fortunately he had learned so much with Jarod he actually felt capable of giving Theresa at least a good grounding in the mechanics of Pretending during the next few days.

Theresa listened intently as Sydney explained Pretending to the best of his ability. What he told her was essentially identical to what Jarod had tried to tell her, but with Sydney's explanation Theresa felt like she understood the process better. Perhaps, she admitted to herself, it was simply because she was now a little more accustomed to the concept.

Once he was satisfied that Theresa understood what was expected of her, and what she could expect, he began walking her through some Sims, starting with short, simple exercises and building into the more complex projects as the day wore on. When he made them break for lunch he was satisfied that she was ready for Lyle's challenge, although he wasn't confident of her response when he actually presented the assignment to her. Theresa interrupted his musings as she lifted the metal lid on her lunch.

"What the hell is this garbage?" She demanded, examining a plate of steamed brown rice, alfalfa sprouts and a tiny slice of unadorned chicken breast.

"Lunch." Sydney assured her, his hazel eyes reflecting his sympathy.

"Tell me you're kidding. I don't need to lose weight or lower my cholesterol level. Why subject me to a non-fat diet?" Theresa took a small bite and grimaced expressively. "And would a few spices hurt anything? God, this place is strange!"

She pushed her plate away decisively, determined no to eat any of the tasteless meal.

"Eat it, Theresa." Sydney advised her gently. "You need to keep up your strength and it is nutritious."

Theresa glared at the plate unhappily, considering Sydney's request.

"You'll need it if you're to perform effectively this afternoon." He cajoled her.

Theresa sighed and gave a tiny nod, accepting Sydney's sensible advice.

"Eat it!" Lyle's voice halted Theresa's beginning move towards the plate of food. She froze and glared at the man she'd come to loathe so completely.

Sydney covered her hand with his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze, returning her attention to him. He nodded once towards her food with a significant look. Theresa nodded her understanding, but her shoulders sagged despondently as she pulled the plate back to its position in front of her. She took a determined bite of the bland stuff as Sydney stood and gestured Lyle into the hallway.

"Lyle, you have got to stop interrupting my work!" He hissed furiously the instant the door had closed behind them. "If I don't develop a decent bond with the girl we'll never get any results worth passing on to the Triumvirate!"

"You're coddling her, Sydney, just like you did Jarod. She's got to know her place---we don't want another escapee, now do we?"

Sydney sighed his frustration, one hand rubbing at the throbbing beginning at the back of his neck. He wracked his brains for an argument that Lyle would appreciate, even though he doubted that Lyle even wanted to understand.

"Look, Lyle, she isn't an impressionable child to be molded, she's a grown woman with interests, tastes, and a mind of her own. Breaking her will only render her useless for Simulations. A Pretender requires creativity to be effective and broken people lose their creativity. You've got to allow me to train her my way." He finally tried.

"I'll take the chance of her lost intellectual potential in return for her DNA potential." Lyle answered calmly. "We can mold her children---I want her broken and quickly, Sydney. If you haven't got the stomach for it I'll remove you from her care and do it myself. No more runaway subjects on my watch!"

"Lyle, she's got the potential to continue Jarod's work." Sydney tried desperately. "Don't you think the Triumvirate would prefer her as a Pretender?"

"I would prefer her malleable." Lyle informed him, though his eyes had gleamed with avarice at the mention of her potential.

"She'll cooperate as long as we have Angelo." Sydney told Lyle grimly, hating himself for reminding the man of Theresa's emotional weakness.

"So she will!" Lyle agreed cheerfully, smiling indulgently at Sydney. "I appreciate the reminder."

Sydney fought down the rising sickness his admission brought on. Lyle was forcing him to sell out his own ethics one at a time to protect the girl from an even less attractive consequence. Sydney was sure that Lyle was doing it on purpose, wanting to force Sydney into abandoning his ideals as much as he wanted Theresa to be useful to him.

"Perhaps you should allow me to finish the Simulation you wanted done before you make any irrevocable decisions?" He finally managed, forcing down anger and guilt by sheer willpower.

"Certainly, Syd. Have the results on my desk before the end of the day. I'll be leaving at 6:00 tonight." Lyle sauntered off, quite please with the results of his conversation.

Sydney sighed again, the throbbing in his temples now upgraded to a furious pounding as his incipient headache became a reality. He closed his eyes drew in a deep breath, fixing the most neutral expression he could onto his face before returning to the room and his subject. Theresa looked up at him with undisguised relief in her eyes, pushing away the plate of half eaten food.

"Finished?" He asked gently, noting the leftover food with dismay. She'd never keep her energy level up if she didn't eat more! Theresa just nodded, standing and moving over to the part of the room that she'd already come to associate as the "working" area. She stopped in front of a lengthy model of a city's main street. Sydney suppressed a third sigh and accepted Theresa's unwillingness to eat or talk. He moved over to her side and began outlining the problem and the known factors impacting it.

"...so the problem is to assassinate the man in this vehicle during the procession, without allowing the operative to get caught." He finished, carefully keeping his distaste for the project from showing. Theresa wasn't so reticent, grimacing unhappily.

"This looks a lot like the Kennedy assassination." She commented, examining the model with narrow eyed focus.

"You must pretend that you know nothing about that." Sydney advised her. "This a totally new situation, you have no prior knowledge to rely on."

"Yes, Sydney." She answered vaguely, becoming absorbed in the challenge in spite of her reservations. She circled the model, thinking hard.

"I don't suppose it's possible to plant a bomb?" She suggested after a few minutes.

"The car is minutely examined before the target is allowed anywhere near it." Sydney confirmed her suspicion. "C'mon, Theresa, think! You can do this!"

Theresa resumed her perusal of the model. A moment later she pointed to a tall building near the edge of model, close to the end of the projected route.

"This building---is it possible for an operative to get to the roof? Unnoticed?" She asked.

"Perhaps." Sydney answered noncommittally.

"How tall is that "tower" building I saw when I scoped out this place?" She asked Sydney, throwing him off balance for a minute. He recovered quickly, however, and contacted Broots via cell phone for the information. Broots came back with a response almost immediately, and Sydney relayed it to her.

"I need a sniper rifle and I want to go up to the roof of that building." She told Sydney baldly. This was a definite departure from what Jarod would have done but Sydney was willing to go along with Theresa for the moment. He spoke to Broots briefly and flicked his phone shut.

"Our "escort" will be here in a few minutes." He told her.

"Okay." She murmured absently, caught up in circling the model and studying the line of sight from the rooftops of several different tall buildings.

She maintained her air of absentmindedness as the sweepers escorted her and Sydney to the Tower rooftop. She lost her concentration, though, when she tried to take the gun and the sweeper refused to release it. Glaring at the man through narrowed eyes she inquired if the rifle was actually loaded. When the sweeper admitted it wasn't she icily told him to give it to her then, so she could complete her work, or did he think she was going to shoot him with it?

Sydney nodded behind her, confirming her right to have the weapon, and allowed only the smallest of smiles to penetrate his professional façade. He didn't think even Miss Parker could have done a finer job of cutting the man down to size.

Theresa paced the roof edges, working herself back into the frame of mind the man had disrupted. Finally she went to one side, crouched down to the level of the three-foot high rampart running around the rooftop, and peered through the high-powered scope on the specialized rifle. She repeated the same actions at several other points along the wall, then handed the gun back to the sweeper, without so much as a glance in his direction, and headed back to the elevator they'd ridden up. She was still lost in thought when Sydney finally let them back into the Sim lab.

She headed directly for the model again, and spent another few minutes examining the view, as best as she could, from the tiny rooftop. Finally she straightened with a sigh and focused her attention on Sydney.

"If you place a man on this rooftop he could assassinate the target and be long gone before a security detail reached that far away from the victim. If you could land a helicopter on the roof that would be even better, but I suppose it would be easier to track than a lone man."

"Very good, Theresa!" Sydney approved warmly. "Now, what's the alternate plan?"

Theresa looked blank and then shrugged her shoulders. She had no backup plan.

"*Always* have a substitute plan for unforeseen events." Sydney scolded her gently, refraining from adding the words, "Jarod would have." Theresa heard them anyway and acknowledged the reproof with a chagrined nod.

"What if there's been construction on one of the other buildings, blocking the line of sight from your target." Sydney pounded home the lesson, wanting to ensure it wouldn't be forgotten.

"I understand, Sydney!" She flared suddenly. "I'm a little new at this Pretending stuff, remember?"

"I haven't forgotten, Theresa." Sydney responded firmly, "But this it the Centre---failure is not tolerated, do you understand?" He captured her gaze, trying to silently communicate that he didn't really mean to be so hard on her, that it was for Lyle's benefit. Theresa looked away, her shoulders slumping in defeat, but not before she'd acknowledged his message with the slighted lowering of one eyelid.

"Now," He continued the charade for Lyle's benefit---he had no doubt that the temporary head of the Centre would examine the security tapes later if he wasn't actually watching them at the moment. "Go back to the problem and come up with a contingency plan."

"Yes, Sydney." Theresa responded dejectedly, turning back to the model.

She still hadn't come up with another plan when Lyle showed up at ten minutes to five. He responded to Sydney's protest with an airy mention of changed plans. Sydney gave him the report he'd had prepared containing Theresa's original solution, feeling a little smug that he'd anticipated this move from Lyle. Lyle was so pleased with what he read that he agreed to allow Angelo into the lab and told Theresa to take the rest of the day off. Considering that she'd already put in a full day of work Theresa was less than impressed, but she managed to look grateful.

The minute Lyle was out of sight Theresa whirled on Sydney with anger sparking in her blue eyes.

"That wasn't the Kennedy assassination!" She accused hotly. "You just let me plan someone's death----how could you do that to me?"

"Would you rather be in the medical wing, being prepared for motherhood?" Sydney asked gently. "I'm walking along Occam's Razor, here."

Theresa sat at the table, tears shining on her cheeks before she covered her face with her hands.

"Tess not cry." Angelo's voice startled both Sydney and Theresa as the enigmatic man entered the lab. Theresa bolted from the table and flung herself into Angelo's arms, seeking solace from the brother she'd come to rescue.

"I'll go arrange for your evening meal." Sydney murmured quietly, reluctant to interrupt the twin's reunion. Angelo nodded gravely, patting his sister soothingly on the back.

The moment the door closed behind Sydney, Angelo gently pulled his sister back to the table and sat down in a chair he pulled up to face her. He took her hands in his and closed his eyes.

"Tess follow." He instructed cryptically. Tess looked confused, then her brow smoothed as comprehension dawned. She too closed her eyes and the two siblings sat silently, much to the confusion of the sweepers keeping an eye on them.

"Tess, do you hear me?" It wasn't like her dreams where they could see and touch each other, in this instance she could only hear her brother's voice.

"Yes, Tee." She assured him quickly. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes. What's the matter?"

"I killed a man today." Her mental "voice" was a mere whisper.

"I assume you mean that you completed the assassination Sim?"

"You know about it?"

"Of course." She could hear the amusement in her brother's voice. "Did you choose the tower building?"

"Yes! How did you know?"

"I was with you while you did the Sim." He answered simply. "Don't worry about the man. I'll find out who, where, and when and pass the information on to Jarod. He'll handle it."

"You're sure?"

"Positive." She could hear the indulgent smile in his voice. "Now, do you smell what I smell?"

Her stomach growled alarmingly as she registered the aromatic aroma of a roast beef dinner. She and Angelo opened their eyes at the same instant with the same anticipatory smile on their faces as Sydney himself wheeled in a dinner cart with three covered plates.

"Sydney, you're a saint!" She assured the man, savoring the first bite of real food she'd had in almost three days.

"Thank you." He smiled paternally at her. "Of course, I'm only protecting Center interests here. You can't work if you faint from hunger."

"Of course." Theresa agreed solemnly.

"Good food." Angelo, as usual, kept his contribution to the conversation short and succinct.

An hour later Theresa was once again locked in her room, Angelo had disappeared, as usual, and Sydney was on his way to his own small cottage on the Delaware Bay shoreline. His cell phone rang and he knew even as he answered it that it would be Jarod.

"So, has she seen the light yet?" Jarod demanded without preamble. Sydney chuckled softly.

"A pleasant evening to you too, Jarod." He responded with the mildest of rebuke in his voice. "Yes, I suspect that she has finally "seen the light". Lyle informed her of her status as Pretender brood mare this morning."

"How'd she take it?"

"Actually, she pulled herself together much more quickly than I'd anticipated. She is tougher than you might think."

Jarod glanced down at the bandage on his left arm before responding to his mentor.

"No, I'm aware that she has hidden strength. I will have to move quickly, Sydney, before Lyle can do something irrevocable. I'll do what I can to make sure you aren't blamed for her escape, but it's likely to be unpleasant for you, one way or the other." Jarod's voice was sad, but determined.

"You just get that young lady to safety, Jarod. I've survived the Center for a good many years now, don't worry about me."

"Mmm, I don't think things have ever been so dangerous, though. The Triumvirate is out of patience and people are suffering for it. Watch yourself, okay?" A quiet click signaled the end of the conversation and Sydney returned the phone to his pocket with a thoughtful frown. Things at the Centre were uncertain at the moment and Jarod's advice was quite valid.

Jarod's next call was to Miss Parker, interrupting her in the middle of a luxurious bubble bath with a glass of red wine.

"What?" Her normally sharp answer was more relaxed, prompting a chuckle from Jarod.

"Enjoying a bubble bath, Parker?" He asked with amusement.

"None of your business!" She snapped. "Now go away and bother someone else---like Lyle maybe!"

"Oh no. He isn't nearly as much fun as you are." Jarod teased her. "Besides, I like thinking of you in your bathroom all----"

"That's enough, Jarod!" She cut him off sharply. "Is there a point to this call or should I hang up on you?"

"Of course there's a point, Parker. I just thought we could share a little quality time first." Parker snorted in response, drawing another chuckle from the man on the other end of the line.

"I'm hanging up now." She warned, not moving a muscle.

"Okay, okay!" He capitulated hurriedly, bringing a satisfied, feline smile to her lips. "It's about Theresa, kind of."

"I'm listening." She assured him regally, taking a sip of wine and stirring the water slightly with her toes.

"I'm not going to give you any details, I just want to know if you'll keep Lyle from reaching the Centre before noon tomorrow for me?"

"And just how do you suggest I accomplish that?"

"Well, if you were to have a hot lead on my whereabouts in, say, Hawaii, that required you both to catch the next flight..."

"And then I could have a jolly little vacation in Africa when we get there, and there's no sign of your existence, and we return to the Centre to find the girl gone. No thanks, Jarod, I'd rather capture you and take the heat off Theresa that way. Care to give yourself up?" She suggested archly.

"Now Miss Parker, would I ever want to cause you harm?" Parker thought back over the past three years; being trapped on a sticky motel room floor, getting the flu, more recently, chipping a molar, all thanks to Jarod's pranks.

"Yes, Jarod, I believe you would." She returned dryly, reminding him of those instances.

"Well, this isn't one of those times." Jarod defended himself. "I was in Hawaii before I went to Washington, so you'll find plenty of evidence of my presence. And how can you be blamed for Theresa's disappearance when you're busy trying to catch me?"

"Keep talking, genius."

"I'll arrange for my trail to seem fresh." He promised. "And I'll have a folder with the most recent information I've turned up on your mother waiting on your kitchen table when you get back---no tricks."

"Okay." Parker smirked happily. Jarod's jaw dropped in amazement. He'd expected her to argue more---had been prepared to even offer her more.

"Ahhh, good." He managed, clicking off the phone in bemusement.

"Oh, Jarod, I wish I could have seen your face." She gloated. "I'd have done it for nothing, you poor naïve fool. The girl may be as simple as you, but she doesn't deserve what my so wonderful brother has planned for her."

Finally Jarod called Broots.

"H-hello?" Broots answered his phone timidly. He had no friends outside of work, so the only reason anyone would be calling him at home had to be an emergency at the Centre.

"I need a Centre-wide electronic systems failure tomorrow at 9:00 am. Can you do it?"

"Oh, Jarod!" Broots' forehead puckered anxiously. "I-I don't know. Mr. Lyle----"

"Mr. Lyle will be gone." Jarod assured the timid man. "And it won't be traced to you---you just start the program and I'll arrange for a massive power surge from the electric company to come through a few seconds later. It'll look like it's their fault."

"But we have safeguards---"

"Not this time." Jarod's voice was amused. "Come on, Broots!" He urged the man, "Live a little. Get some revenge on the Centre for all those trips away from Debbie. Strike a blow against Lyle."

"Okay." Broots agreed, straightening up firmly. "I'll do it. You just make sure she gets out okay."

"Why, Broots, I have no idea who you're talking about!" Jarod was laughing as he disconnected the phone.

"Sometimes you're worse than Lyle." Broots muttered, glaring at the phone. Then he went to check on his daughter and prepare for bed.

Jarod spent the rest of the night preparing for his most audacious Pretend ever. He rarely used any kind of disguises for his work, preferring to use his formidable mind instead, but since his plan required him to actually enter the Centre's premises he opted for camouflage. When he'd finished with the latex and other special effects materials he was confident that not even Parker would have recognized him. Then he laid out the items he needed for this undertaking, making sure authorizations were on the computer, paperwork for himself was in order, and going over the plan he'd developed in his mind.

While Jarod was busy, Theresa was sound asleep thanks to a gas that Raines ordered pumped into his project's rooms every night. She wouldn't have minded the gas, had she known about it, because it enabled to spend a few more precious minutes with her brother.

"Tess, how are you holding up?" Angelo's voice was worried as he stepped out of the shadows and joined his sister in the circle of light at the center of the darkness.

"I'm doing better now." Theresa assured him. "Sydney helped me to put things in perspective."

"Sydney is a good man." Angelo agreed, drawing his sister down to sit on the bench that had magically appeared for them. "He'll do whatever he can to help you."

Angelo looked at Theresa intently, examining the strain that had followed her into the dreamworld.

"You do realize that now it's imperative that you let us get you out of here, don't you?" He pressed gently, his expression revealing his unwillingness to hear anything but a "yes" in reply.

"Yes." Theresa sighed, looking down at the floor, but not before Angelo saw the glitter of unshed tears in her eyes. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard against the conflicting desires of safety and her brother.

"I underestimated the Centre." She finally went on, her voice a mere whisper. "I had no idea that a place could operate so openly and harbor such evil."

She paused, and looked at her brother, misery in her eyes as she accepted they'd have to part again.

"But won't you come with me?" She finally begged, unable to stop herself.

Angelo reached out, gently wiping away a tear that had escaped in spite of her best efforts to contain them.

"I can't, Tess." He told her again, his eyes sad at the pain he was causing her. "My work here is not finished, and I can't leave until it is."

More tears trickled down Theresa's cheeks as her eyes closed against the rejection, no matter how sadly delivered, wounded her again.

"I've only just found you and now I have to lose you again." She mourned quietly.

"I won't be lost." Angelo tried to console her. "I'll be right here."

"And I won't."

"It isn't safe for you here."

"Don't try to make me believe you are safe here either." Theresa said bitterly. "I've seen how Mr. Lyle looks at you."

"After you escape here Lyle's position will be shaky to say the least. First Jarod gets away and then you; the Triumvirate won't be happy with him at all."

"So how am I getting out? My door is still locked. I don't even have decent clothes to wear."

"I don't know, but Jarod has a plan."

"Jarod? Is he here? Isn't that terribly dangerous for him?"

"Of course it is." Angelo confirmed with a wry smile. "But Jarod would never leave you here at Lyle's mercy. I'm sure he blames himself for your presence here anyway, and there is no way he'll let the Centre revive the Pretender Project if he can stop it."

"What if they catch him?"

"He's escaped here before." Theresa heard the thread of uncertainty in his response.

"Then I guess I'd better be ready so I decrease the chances of his plan failing." She looked at her brother hopefully, an idea striking her.

"Will we still be able to meet in our dreams like this, Tee?"

"I think so. You've always been in the back of my mind, just as I'm sure I've been in yours. Now that we are reconnected I don't see why we should lose the bond. Not unless one of us willfully tries to sever it." Angelo reassured her optimistically.

"I suppose that's better than nothing." She smiled ruefully.

"You need to rest now, Tess." Angelo encouraged her at last. "This kind of meeting takes energy too. Tomorrow will be a full day, I'm sure."

Theresa clutched a Angelo's hands desperately in denial.

"No, this is the last time I'll get to see you for who knows how long? I--I can't-----"

"Yes you can." Angelo assured her stoutly. "You are stronger than you realize. And I will be with you, in here." He tapped her temple gently as an illustration.

Theresa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to fortify herself.

"Okay." She told him, sorrow etched on her face. "I’m ready now."

Once again they moved apart without actually moving. Once again they faded away into the darkness, each looking at the other until they could no longer see anything but blackness. In her room, Theresa started awake, fighting against the airborne drug that fogged her thoughts. Her instincts were screaming that she wasn’t alone, but her leaden eyelids refused to open.

She heard two voices speaking, then, but she couldn’t even tell if they were male or female. The voices sounded like they were coming to her from underwater. She felt the sharp sting of a needle in her arm, and sank into oblivion, fighting all the way.

When she finally awoke, hours later with a pounding headache, she wasn’t sure if she’d dreamed the people or if they had actually been in her room. She stumbled to the tiny bathroom that open off of the room, hoping a shower would ease the pain in her head. It helped, but as she toweled herself vigorously she took the time to examine her arm, locating the tiny red mark that confirmed the reality of the dreamlike memories.

What had they done to her? She worried grimly. Whatever it was, it was done now and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She pushed down her unease and donned a fresh set of navy blue hospital clothes. After she’d brushed her hair and her teeth she went into the main room to wait for Sydney, wondering how long it would be before he showed.

Apparently her internal clock was still running close to outside time, because Sydney showed up less than a half of an hour later. He found Theresa pacing the narrow corridor between her bed and the desk on the other wall, trying not to think about all the worries and fears trying to rise within her.

"Hello, Theresa. I see you’re up early today." He greeted her pleasantly. "Eager to get to work?"

"No." Theresa told him wryly. "I was drugged last night, Sydney. And someone was in my room---the injected me with something, look." She extended her arm and Sydney carefully examined the white skin of the inner elbow.

"Yes." He said thoughtfully, trying to mask his own unease as he

identified not one injection site, but two. "I assure you, dear, I

have no-----"

Behind him the door swung silently open and a swarthy, tall man stepped in behind Sydney, hypodermic in hand. Alerted by the alarm in Theresa’s eyes, Sydney started to turn just as the man slid the needle into his shoulder and pressed down the plunger. Sydney completed his turn and stared uncomprehendingly at his assailant before his eyes rolled back and he started to collapse.

The stranger caught him before he hit the floor and lowered him gently the rest of the way. Then he stood and retrieved a bundle of clothes from the pack slung over his back.

"Put these on." He whispered hoarsely. Theresa frowned at him in confusion. She looked again at the clothes and her frown cleared almost magically. She nodded, grabbed the clothes, and returned to her bathroom. When she returned the man had moved Sydney to her bed and was sitting patiently in her hard wooden chair. He wore navy blue, almost identical to her shapeless hospital wear, but it was cut into the classic lines of a chauffeur’s uniform. He even wore the hat, something Theresa was pretty sure most chauffeur’s didn’t do anymore, and he had dark glasses on, hiding his eyes.

"These too." He handed her another pair of glasses and examined her

carefully. She was wearing what was sometimes referred to as a "power

suit". A tan mini-skirt with a matching tan jacket that showed only a

few inches of the skirt. Her dark blond curls were covered by a black

"Lois Lane" wig and her makeup, carefully chosen to darken her

complexion, was bold and striking. She balanced uncertainly on three

inch heels, but her confidence in them grew as she walked around the

room experimentally.

"You’ll do." He rasped, handing her a briefcase. "You were here to meet with Mr. Lyle but he isn’t here. You are very important and very angry at being stood up. You don’t have time for questions and you aren’t about to explain yourself to these flunkies, got it?"

"Yes." She said tersely, taking the briefcase. "But I’m not sure how to navigate this labyrinth."

"I’ll give you instructions as we go, but if someone shows up just pretend you know where you’re going. Now, head to the elevators at the end of the corridor."

Following his whispered instructions she made it all the way to the lobby before an alarm was sounded.

"Damn! I’d hoped we’d make it as far as the garage before they found him!" She heard him mutter behind her.

"Excuse me, Ma’am." A security guard stepped in front of her as she headed for the ornate doors leading to the front of the building. "You can’t go anywhere while the alarm klaxon is sounding."

"No, I do *not* excuse you, you miserable excuse for a rent-a-cop!" Theresa answered frigidly. "I came here to meet with Mr. Lyle, not to cool my heels in the lobby while you nail down some electrical failure. Now get out of my way before you regret it!"

"Ah, I---"

"Very well." Theresa sighed loudly. "I see I’ll just have to have you give Lyle a message for me." She dropped her briefcase and with lightning speed had the guard’s gun hand painfully bent between hers, her fingers on one of the more painful nerve clusters of the hand. The guard groaned with pain and rolled his eyes anxiously about.

"Tell Mr. Lyle," Theresa gritted out between clenched teeth. "That when I give up my valuable time to meet with him that I expect his *undivided* attention, not his absence. *If* I choose to give this two bit operation a second chance *I* will call him. Got that?"

The poor man nodded frantically, almost on his knees in reaction to the agony of her pressing fingers.

"Good, now stand aside or my next move will cause *permanent* damage. Idiots like you shouldn’t be having children anyway, should they?" She finished sweetly, releasing his hand and accepting the briefcase that her rescuer had retrieved from the floor. "Thank you, James, shall we go now?"

"James" nodded and held the door deferentially for his "employer" and she sailed regally through them, not even glancing at the humiliated guard who was cradling his throbbing hand. "James" grabbed the first vehicle he saw, a silver Towncar, and ushered Theresa into the back seat. He then slid into the drivers side and hotwired the car in seconds. They made it through the gate mere moments before they too were closed off in response to the alarm.

"We need a new vehicle quickly." Jarod’s distinctive voice came from the swarthy stranger in the front of the car. Theresa was unsurprised at his identity, however. Jarod’s bearing and voice were quite distinctive, even with his efforts to disguise them. She was pretty sure that the people watching the recordings of her escape would recognize him too, in spite of his truly masterful disguise.

"My Sprint is stored at Al’s garage on Maple. Can we make it there?" She asked calmly.

"Won’t "Al" be a little surprised when you try to pick up Theresa’s car?"

"No. I told him to deliver it to the person who used the phrase, "moonlight in Africa", without any questions."

"So, you weren’t entirely convinced you’d make it out of the Centre without problems."

"I may have acted like one, but I’m not a fool, Jarod." Theresa answered dryly. "I knew that if you were worried about the place that I had reason to be concerned. I just didn’t realize how *much* reason I had. So, what are we going to do now?"

"We’ll pick up your car, drive to my motel, change back into ourselves, and head for West Virginia." Jarod had already made plans, as usual. "In West Virginia, I’ll catch a plane for the site of my next task, and you can go off to do whatever you want to do."

"What I’d like to do is stick around with you for a little while." Theresa told him serenely, studying the scenery outside her window as if she had no clue what an unrealistic request she’d just made.

"You what?" Jarod asked, sure he hadn’t heard correctly. Theresa turned her attention to him as they pulled into Al’s parking lot.

"Sydney told me I needed to learn how to harness this Pretending ability and I believe he’s right. Since he can’t teach me anymore I thought I could stay with you for a while and learn from you." Theresa saw a refusal rising to Jarod’s lips and pressed on relentlessly. "The Centre is looking for me now---looking harder than it has for years. I need someone to show me the ropes of eluding them and I need to know how to use my mind fully, not just the little bit I’ve been using until now. Besides, I *liked* doing the Sim." She added thoughtfully, looking blindly out the window.

"It’s like I’d been running around half asleep and then Sydney made me wake up and really *think*. I bet that’s why you do your "good deeds". You like the stimulation too."

Jarod got out of the car, his jaw set firmly.

"No." He told her bluntly, escorting her into the office.

"Hi." Theresa said to the grease smeared man behind the counter. "I’m here to pick up the blue Sprint. The moonlight in Africa is supposed to be beautiful."

"So you want to drive over and see it?" The man answered dryly, throwing her the keys. Theresa smiled blindingly at him.

"Now *there’s* an idea!" She agreed cheerfully. "Oh, when someone shows up for the silver Towncar we’re leaving, could you be an angel and tell ‘em we went off hitchhiking?"

"Sure thing, Tessa, but you’d better get that paint off of your face before your skin breaks out." He smiled paternalistically at her. "Don’t worry about being followed from here."

Theresa subjected him to another bright smile and leaned over the counter to kiss his cheek.

"Thanks, Al. You’re a real trouper!"

She and Jarod recovered her car and she subjected him to her arguments for taking her with him all of the way to the Starlight Motel on the very edge of the township of Blue Cove.

"No." That was all Jarod said as they left the car, her with her backpack of belongings rescued from the hatchback.

So Theresa continued to argue while they cleaned up and changed into nearly identical outfits of jeans, sneakers and t-shirts. The only differences in their clothes was that Jarod’s were all in shades of black and Theresa wore regular blue jeans, a brightly tie-dyed shirt, and brilliantly red tennis shoes. When she returned from the bathroom with her face scrubbed clean of makeup and her hair in a pony tail, she looked about thirteen years old.

"No." Jarod said again, exasperation starting to show. "I work alone. It’s easier to hide alone. Just go back to your reservation and leave things to me. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to try to see Angelo again. The Centre won’t stand for forever."

"Jarod." Theresa stopped his progress to the motel room door with a demanding hand around his wrist. He swung around to face her, irritation showing on his face. Theresa frowned ominously.

"Look," she began, trying to sound reasonable. "I can no more bury myself on that reservation now than you could settle down to a 9 to 5 job. That place kidnapped my brother, they kidnapped *me*, and God only knows what they’ve done to my father. I am *not* going to my room like a good little girl. If you don’t help me then I’ll go after them on my own---so you choose. Help me, or watch me take them on alone; which will it be?"

She knew she’d won when Jarod sighed and slowly turned to face her.

"Okay." He agreed reluctantly. "But only for a month or so, after that we have to split up for our own survival."

"Agreed!" She held out her hand triumphantly for him to shake. Her smile was contagious and he felt his lips twitch in return before he finally gave in and smiled back.

"God help the Centre once you get trained." He muttered as he headed, once again for the door. Theresa pretended not to hear him.

The End----for now at least

(No, folks, if you’re thinking this is going to turn into a romance you’re wrong!)

Rebeckah, the unromantic