Undisclosed vicinity – 5:00

Miss Parker became gradually aware of a change. Her head wasn’t pressed into the dusty sheet that covered her bed. It was pressed into something soft that smelled of roses.

“I must be dreaming.”

Keeping her eyes closed, she hoped that she was back in her own bed in her own home. Another thought fleeted across her mind when she turned on her back, her hand pressed to her face.

“I smell like soap?”

Frowning, she opened he eyes. Anger flared in them. She had once again been drugged and this time instead of just changing clothes, she had been …

“What the hell” she exclaimed, sitting up and looking herself over.

A new grey uniform adorned her body. Her feet were sheaved in slippers of the same colour. Her tangled hair had been blow dried. Her hands were bandaged, the gashes treated and cleaned.

"You son of a bitch!"

Rising, she stumbled slightly. Stretching out her arm her hand connected with the wall, giving some stability as the room spun around her. Her emotions flirted across her face as first anger, then disgust, then once again anger made turns.

Feeling a bit steadier, she eyed the closed cupboard. The ankle chain clanked loudly as she stalked over to the hidden hole. Her hand rose and yanked violently, slamming the door against the unresisting wall. Her eyes were drawn to the solitary inmate that lay serenely in the middle of the hide-away. Her features changed to worry as her hand extracted the object.

Almost afraid, she opened the book. Turning to the first page she noticed the newspaper clippings stuck in normal Jarod fashion to the pages of the red notebook. Her gaze met the heading of the first clipping. Her eyes widened; her grip tightening till her knuckles bled white. Her eyes roved over to the second heading.

"No, no, nonononono," vibrated in her head. Her hands lost there grip, the book fluttering towards the floor. She was staring straight ahead, past the wall, past the soil towards something that only her mind's eye could conceive.

Her eyes filmed with unshed tears as she sank down to sit next to the open note book. Curling tightly, one hand strayed to the book. Gently she closed it and pressed it tightly to her chest. Still blind to all around her, she slowly started to rock backwards and forwards.

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

Somewhere in the Midwest

A dark rumbling invaded his dreams. The staccato sound was rough enough to stop J from drifting back to no man's land where no one died and he and his dad were on a rowboat, fishing. The rumbling continued to invade his thoughts till he decided to putt an end to it.

He tried to shift his body into a more comfortable position. The rumbling seemed to rise slightly and J felt himself shake.

"Mm mmm" he mumbled, shaking his head. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to go back to sleep. Another violent shake forced him to try and open his eyes. The lids seemed stuck to each other and he had to almost force them open.

He wished he hadn't.

His unfocused gaze met the light blue ones of Mr. White's. His muscles tensed, he felt his jaw clench as the memory of the last time they had met came crashing down on his mind; the broken form of Michael's body filling his vision with red. Screaming threats, he lashed out at the albino with a right hook that connected solidly. He tried to bring his left in for an uppercut but was interrupted when rough hands brought his futile crusade to an end.

Mr White was holding his bleeding nose, glaring ominously back at him.

"Secure the boy."

J almost laughed, the albino's voice had the blocked nose syndrome and it made his gravely voice sound ridiculous. It ended in a wince when the cuffs closed uncomfortably tight on his wrists.

He was forced into a white leather seat. For the first time J really got a good look at his surroundings. He was travelling in a van, the windows in the back darkened so that no unwanted visitor would be able to see what when on inside. A partition separated the front from the back. Three seats were bolted to the floor next to the panelling, facing the same amount on the other side where the furious albino sat. On either side of him sat a stony faced sweeper, making sure that he stayed in his seat. On the floor between them and the other seats was a green fold-up mattress of the sort you would take on a camping trip. That was what he must have slept on before he was woken by Mr White.

"Where's my dad?"

His question seemed to linger in the air, slowly dissolving into no answer. He felt his heartbeat increase as he almost frantically asked the same question again, his voice higher as possible answers flashed before his eyes.

'They don't need him anymore.' the one expression he wanted to hear the least.

J was solely focused on the light eyes of the albino, praying that his actions earlier would not influence the man to silence. He nearly broke down in relief when the older man answered his question, his voice still nasal despite the fact that the nose-bleed had stopped earlier.

"He is following us in another van to ensure your and his good behaviour. Anymore escape or retribution attempts will be met with equal or worse punishment for your father. Am I clear, Gemini?"

Nodding, J allowed his tense muscles to relax slightly. Leaning back into the leather seat he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible, the only sound in the back the soft rush of the wheels on tarmac and the turn of a well oiled engine. Fairly comfortable, he allowed his head to drift to the side as the remaining dregs of the sedative he had been given the previous evening brought him back to sleep.

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

The Centre – 5:30

Broots knocked tentatively on Sydney's door before entering the office. Looking around the dimly lit room he finally found the psychiatrist asleep on his brown leather couch. Walking over, he gently shook the older man awake.

Waiting for Sydney to fully awake, he nervously tapped on the folder he was carrying. When Sydney turned to him with a cup of coffee in his hand, he handed him the file.

“Mr Lyle has two entries in his diary that is unaccounted for. I spoke to Jason, the guy with the leap eye in transport division and he said that the first time Mr Lyle had taken two saloons with at least six sweepers. When he cleaned out the cars he found a bloodied baseball bat in the back seat of one of them.”

Sydney glanced up from the report, “Does he still have that bat?”

Looking at the closed door, Broots answered. “N…no, Jason said that about an hour later a very angry sweeper had come back demanding to know where the bat was. He had no choice but to give it to him.”

“What was the date when Lyle took the saloon for the first time?”

“About six weeks ago. The other time, was three days ago. Hewie, the one with the limp that works down in incineration, saw Mr Lyle bring Jarod back.”

Leaning against his desk, Sydney took in the information that Broots provided. Calculating the time factor against what he knew of Jarod’s injuries he knew his suspicions had been correct when he had assumed the psychopath to be the main instigator.

A base ball bat, he thought incredulously. Lyle must have been insane and he couldn’t for the life of him think why Lyle wanted to do that to Jarod and not bring him back immediately. Why wait till now?

His thoughts broken by Broots’ question, he focused again on the timid tech.

“Sydney, do you want to know about the phone calls?”

Nodding his head, Sydney turned the page of the report.

“Well, Mr Lyle made a phone call about a month back to a Dr Harold Kearney. I managed to retrieve the logs from telecommunications although it had a rating for eyes only – Mr Lyle.”

Moving slightly closer to Sydney, he once again made sure that the door stayed closed. Lowering his voice he continued,

“H…he told the doctor t…that he had s…someone he wanted. He meant Jarod a…and he told the d…doctor that if he did not d…do as he was told that he would k…kill his wife. The other phone calls were always along the same line. Sydney, Lyle had been keeping tabs on Jarod for a month. Why do you think he did that?”

Sydney frowned at the information that Broots just gave him. That and the coincidence of Parker’s disappearance were becoming more and more worrying. Thanking Broots, he closed the folder. Opening his safe he placed it inside, hoping that the connections that he was making in his mind might be wrong.

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

The Centre – Sim lab down in SL 27 – 6:30

Jarod looked up from his breakfast, his spoon making small circles in the green slob. He felt his stomach unclench when he saw Sydney enter the sim lab. Relaxing slowly, he glanced at Willie who stood guard to his left. His body hurt, he had two evenly spaced holes burned randomly across his chest, stomach and back. The convulsions that had shaken his body in the chains had left his muscles weak and trembling. He tried to bring the cuffs of his new tunic down past his wrists. He did not want Sydney to see the grooves edged into them from where the manacles had cut into the flesh. Frustrated, he dropped the spoon. Hiding his hands under the table he waited while Sydney dragged a chair to sit next to him.

Jarod watched in amazement to see Sydney’s right hand clench when the familiar footsteps brought a slight increase in his breathing as Lyle entered the room. Eyeing the blond man from under his eyelashes, he saw the warning look that he knew was meant for him. Keeping his gaze lowered, he felt Lyle’s gloved hand possessively on his neck. He watched Sydney rise and meet the unspoken challenge that the chairman’s son seemed to initiate.

“Sydney, I did not expect you to be down until it was time for Jarod’s session to start.”

“Lyle, he is still my project. I am not aware of any restrictions regarding the time I can spend with Jarod.”

Lyle’s blue gaze met Sydney’s as they stared at each other, each laying claim, each trying to find out how determined the other was. Smiling slightly, the younger man increased his grip on the pretender’s neck. Bending down, his lips brushed the pretender’s right ear. Whispering - inaudible to any one else - he promised Jarod more memories to remember him by, keeping his blue gaze on Sydney. Grinning at the psychiatrist’s angry glare, he rose slowly. Releasing his hold he tapped Jarod on the head while he winked at a fuming Sydney before making his way from the room.

“Jarod, are you all right?”

Jarod heard the concern while he concentrated on getting his resentment under control. Swallowing, he nodded.

Sydney saw Jarod’s jaw unclench, his facial muscles becoming less defined as the pretender allowed the anger to flow from his body.

Sydney pulled the chair closer and for the first time noticed the fists that were pressed into his lap. His hand darted out, grabbing one before the younger man could protest. Pushing the sleeve up his finger traced the bloody imprint around the wrist. Checking the other arm, he traced the same almost identical line. Moving towards the buttons of Jarod’s top he was stopped by Jarod’s hand encircling his wrist.

“Sydney, I’m fine.”

Seeing the unbelieving look on his mentor, Jarod projected confidence into his voice.

“Really... Please. It will only make it worse.” His eyes travelled towards where Willie stood before pleading silently with the older man.

“All right, Jarod.” Shaking his hand from Jarod’s feeble grip he tried not to let the worry show on his face. Sitting forward, he pushed the pretender’s uneaten food to the side.

Softly, keeping an eye on Willie he whispered,

“I know that Lyle was responsible for your injuries. I know that he used a baseball bat and your leg as his point of impact. When did you plan on telling me this?”

Jarod went white, the blood draining from his face as Sydney finished his question.

If you ever tell Sydney…our little game…old man…fatal

He watched Willie nervously before turning slightly towards his mentor. Shaking his head, he tried to ignore Lyle’s taunts in his head.

“Jarod, why did he do this?”

Shrugging, he turned his face away.

“It is not important now. Please, Sydney. Just leave it. It’s over and nothing can be done about it.”

Sydney stared at Jarod and really for the first time started to get a glimpse of Jarod’s tormented psyche. Putting his hand on Jarod’s shoulder, he gripped and pulled till his prodigy entered his embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Jarod. I’m so sorry.”

Rocking slightly, he comforted his ward the way he had always wanted to in the past. He made a vow as Jarod left his grief on his shoulder. Come what may, he was going to try and help Jarod escape the clutches of the Centre once and for all.

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

Lyle watched the interaction between Sydney and his pretender. He couldn't hear what they were saying and it frustrated him. The look on Sydney's face was classic when he found the marks on Jarod's wrists. He knew it would happen and he looked forward to the debate he and Sydney would have about the state of his sanity. Sneering at the display of affection that Sydney showed to the pretender, he made a silent promise to make sure that Jarod would remember his place in the Centre hierarchy.

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

Somewhere on the road – 8:00

The vans stopped next to a byway; the surrounding area fairly flat but to the east and south the Rocky Mountains shined a blue haze in the distance. Opening the doors, the sweepers got out and stretched before grabbing their captives and pulling them from the vans. One of the sweepers took out a small camp table and started to unpack food packages on it.

The major faced the way that they had been travelling. It was quiet and the morning sun brought a welcome relief to the dimness that seemed to envelope the inside of the vans. With hands still cuffed together he clutched a water bottle that one of the sweepers had provided. He took another long swallow, waiting for the moment to see his son. He had been told that if he behaved and did as he was told he would get to spend a little time with him when they made a stop for breakfast.

One of the sweepers motioned and he stepped from behind the van. His eyes roamed to the other side till they made contact with his son. He inhaled sharply when he saw the state that his son was in. J had a rumbled light blue shirt on that seemed to be splattered with dry patches of blood. His face and what he could see of any other skin testified that he had seen too much sun. When J started towards him he noticed how badly the boy limped. Looking back at the face he saw that one of his ears had been nicked by a bullet; an injury that would leave a scar for the rest of his life. The dried blood still clung down his left side where it had bled freely from the bullet gouge. He felt his anger rise at the Centre and the unnecessary cruelty that they allowed as he completed the distance. He awkwardly embraced the boy, holding him tight to his chest. Finally breaking the hug, he used the water and an old bandanna he had to wipe his son's face and to clean the blood from the side of his head.

"Major, it is time for you and the boy to come eat."

Charles looked up from what he had been doing, he eyes angrily focused on the undisturbed albino. Remembering the threats he allowed a sweeper to lead him and his son towards where the others stood around the table.

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

The Centre – Sim lab down in SL 27 – 10:00

"No! I don't want to do it, Sydney. I'm still a human being. You can't force me."

Lowering his head in his hands, Sydney wondered how he would encourage Jarod to look at all the possibilities. The pretender had rolled his wheelchair to the space where Miss Parker's rooms had been set up. His left hand seemed to glide over the silk sheets of her bed before drifting back to the wheel. Turning the chair expertly, he faced the psychiatrist.

"Sydney, the person who took her wants to play a power game. Why else write what he did on that mirror?"

Leaning back in the chair, Sydney retorted.

"If you simulated the kidnapper you would have your answer."

"No, I can figure this out without becoming him. Please, Sydney. I do not want to have his thoughts in my mind."

"Fine, let's try this from another angle. Angelo might have something for us."

Jarod's face lit up in surprise. Wheeling closer to his mentor, his raised eyebrows asked the question.

"Right after her disappearance Raines tried to use Angelo to try and find her. He reacted violently to the stimuli and refuses to have anything more to do with any of her belongings. I found him sitting in the middle of the lab, her bedding around him while he chanted a dictum. The words he used were cogita mori which is …. "

"Latin for Remember death." Jarod completed.

Moving back to the mirror he stared up at the words, his mind making and disregarding connections.

"I need a Latin phrase book. I might have something that could help us in our search. I also need access to the internet but I guess I won't get that."

Turning back to the table he started scribbling in his notebook while Sydney left to convey his needs.

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

Undisclosed vicinity

The monitors lining the room gave it an unnatural glow. Smiling, the man watched from three different angles as the silent woman drifted off towards sleep. Her reaction had even been better than he had anticipated. It shouldn't be long now before he can start his re-education. Laughing silently at his own wit he rose and moved towards his work table where all his tools were spread.

Inserting one of the items in a brown envelope he stopped before closing the flap. For a moment he imagined the face of the man to whom he was sending this little gift. Eyes glinted malevolently when he brought the flap to his lips before licking the gum. Closing it with a smirk he grabbed his jacket. With one last look at his sleeping captive he left to deliver the good news.

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

The Centre – Late afternoon

Jarod rested his head on the notes he had created. They had given him all the reading material that he had asked for. Just as he had predicted, they would not allow him access to an open line. Instead they had allowed Broots to do the research while he directed the tech on how to proceed. He had found the phrase to be part of an inscription that used to be engraved on ancient Roman sundials.

Vivere disce, cogita mori - Learn to live; Remember death.

That and the tie-in with the mirror had to mean something but he just couldn't see the connection yet. Lyle’s demented games weren’t helping either. His head was pounding, his body exhausted and sore. He was still thinking about ways to bring the words to connect when his eyes closed.

The hallway was dim and shadowy, empty except for Jarod. Lined along the wall were steel doors with little squint holes set at eye level. He couldn’t see any source for the eerie glow that created patches of light on the floor. The air smelled stale and fallow. Everything was quiet and for a moment he wondered whether he was deaf. Turning in a slow circle he ended up facing the hallway again and again.

Deciding, he stepped forward. The hallway seemed to be moving past him much faster than what he felt like walking. The doorways arrived at regular intervals, never changing. After a long time he decided to open one of the doors. Turning the handle, it swung open cleanly. The oil squeak he had expected was missing. Inside was a large chamber. Small circles of light seemed to highlight certain spots, the rest dark and formless.

Stepping into the room, he turned in surprise when the door slammed closed behind him. Besides the fact that it was the first sound he heard, he felt worried when he failed to open the door. Laughter sounded hollow around him, surrounding his body. Slapping his hands to his ears he tried to stop the evil sounding echo. Somehow it seemed to work.

His eyes set on one of the spotlights. The light around him changed and he had to close his eyes for the brightness. It felt almost like it burned his skin, his eyelids creating red spots in front of his sight. Blinded, he felt around him; his wandering fingers greeting a rough surface. Feeling the object, it created an image in front of his closed eyes. It was a small modal of an airplane. He felt darkness surround him before light blinded him again. Somehow he must have moved to another spot that he had noticed earlier.

Not questioning, his fingers found another object. His feet felt the rough surface grind slowly beneath him. The light dimmed allowing him to open his eyes. He was standing in the centre of a huge sundial that stretched out before him. A small sliver of light indicating a door that sliced through the dark where the ten should be. His shadow was moving towards the light as if a sun was setting behind him. He could feel the words flow behind him, red and angry. He tried to run for the door but his feet were stuck to the centre. He could feel the snarling malice getting closer. His heartbeat seemed to fill the room, drowning out all noise while Lyle’s face floated around his body; taunting and laughing wickedly.

“Noooo!”

Jerking awake, Jarod panted. His eyes were glazed, his heartbeat still sounding loud in his ears. With a shaky hand he wiped the sweat from his head.

It was a dream. Only a dream.

Looking around the empty sim lab he breathed slowly in an attempt to bring some normality back to his senses. His notes were scattered around the table, most lay on the floor. Bending, he picked them up. Arranging them in order on the table he turned to the sound of a door opening. His hand closed around his pen, hoping it could be some semblance of protection. His hand opened slowly, dropping the instrument when his eyes met those of Lyle. His captor had that smug look that meant something not good was waiting for him.

Stepping into the room, Lyle kept eye contact with Jarod till he stepped behind the pretender. Grabbing him by his hair, he pushed the head back at what must have been an uncomfortable position.

“I want to show you something.”

Jarod’s defiant gaze met his and he didn’t like it. He wanted the pretender fearful and to obey without question. Sydney’s coddling wasn’t helping and he decided to continue with his plan.

He was about to push his captive from the room when Sydney entered.

“Lyle, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing that concerns you. Jarod and I have a meeting to attend.”

“Everything to do with Jarod concerns me.” Crossing his arms, Sydney waited for Lyle to disprove his statement.

Making silent promises, Lyle reluctantly decided to let Jarod go. What he had in mind did not include Sydney and for the moment the search for Parker was taking priority in Raines’s objectives. Besides, by tomorrow Jarod would do anything he asks.

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

Ten miles outside Blue Cove

For the second time in his life Major Charles felt completely helpless. Not only had the Centre managed to recapture Jarod, they also had managed to capture him and his son. With hindsight he wished that he had investigated the gut feeling he had about the mail message in more detail. He knew that the closer they got to the Centre the less likely escape would be. Now they were almost there and he could see no way out of their predicament. They had kept his son and him apart for most of the trip. The only other time he had seen his son had been on the plane and then only because J sat four rows ahead. Two burly sweepers sandwiched both of them, never leaving their sides. The same two were sitting next to him in the town car as they travelled towards their Alcatraz.

Major Charles caught a glimpse of something brown flashing across the front screen before he slammed violently into his seatbelt. He heard the driver yell something inaudible as the crunch and shriek of folding metal vibrated around the interior. He had a vague collection of ground and air intertwining till it all becomes one dark collection of thought. That too ended.

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

The Centre

Jarod felt relief when Lyle left the room to answer his ringing phone. Turning his eyes to Sydney, he was thankful that his mentor arrived when he did. Whatever Lyle had planned had to be something big.

"This arrived for you about an hour ago."

Jarod was perplexed when he took the brown envelope from Sydney. Who knew he was here?

Opening it, he looked inside before chucking the small glass angel onto his palm. It was intricately formed with one flaw. It had no facial features which changed the object into something that seemed sad. As his hand caressed the imitation his mind wandered back to the dream he had.

He once again felt the light blind him, but this time instead of the airplane he held the angel in his hands. It was so delicate, so tiny he thought that his breath would break it into pieces. He held it close to his chest, protecting it from the burning light, keeping it safe from the words behind him. His shadow still stretched towards the sliver of the door, towards the ten. Something seemed to be waiting behind the door, when suddenly a voice boomed in the chamber startling him enough to drop the angel. He watched it float towards the eagerly awaiting maw that had opened beneath him. Stretching towards it, he tried to save her. His fingertips brushed the figurine, closing on air and he watched helplessly as she continued her fall before shattering.

"Jarod!"

Looking up in surprise Jarod found that he was back in the simlab, his hand still clutching the angel.

"You had me worried. You seemed to be catatonic for about two minutes."

Rubbing his other hand across his face something seemed to click in his head. Looking at the angel in his hand, his eyes drifted towards the words on the mirror. Turning to Sydney he felt dread fold around him.

"I know who has Miss Parker."

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

Ten miles outside Blue Cove

The first car stopped, then another. Wreckage was strewn across the road, leading the way towards the town car that lay flipped onto its roof. One wheel was still spinning, liquid dripping from the torn radiator.

Swearing, Mr White sat sideways in his seat looking back at the chaos. Their car was parked next to the road about six hundred meters from the accident site. He could see at least three people clambering around the wreckage trying to determine if anyone in the car survived the crash. One man stood to the side talking earnestly on his cell phone.

The two sweepers were trying to keep the boy in his seat. He was screaming for his father, using all means to try and get out of the car. With a terse command to one of them he sighed in relief when a well placed punch left the boy unconscious. Opening his phone, he sat back in his seat keeping an eye on the rear-view mirror for anyone approaching their car.

"We have a problem."

"The other car ran into a deer and rolled…No, I can't see how anyone can survive…too many spectators already….yes."

Flipping it closed he indicated to the driver to leave, just as the flashing lights of the first ambulance arrived.

TBC

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