Author: NG
Title: Survival
Rating: PG-13
Category: Angst/Romance
Pairings: Jarod/Ms Parker
Summary:
Sometimes survival is all that you have in life
Disclaimer:
All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of the original company. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author
Author's Note:
This is my first attempt at Pretender fanfiction so feedback will be greatly appreciated.
SURVIVAL
"What!" she snapped, even before the cellphone reached the side of her ear completely.
"Sounds like somebody is having a bad day," the taunting voice sounded up from the other side of the line.
"Jarod," she stopped in her tracks and for a just a moment her face softened before it turned back to its normal coldness and she continued onwards in a hurry, her boots making a loud clicking noise on the bright tiles of The Centre's main hall.
She had barely walked a couple of feet when he replied to her simple statement of his name with, "Why do people always deny what their hearts are telling them?"
Sighing she moved the phone to her other ear and pushed against her office door before answering with a clear hint of irritation in her voice, "What do you want from me Jarod?"
A long silence followed and just when she thought that maybe the line was disconnected from his side soft words were spoken, "Just for your eyes to open to the truth." Before she could give him a response he hung up, leaving her behind to ponder the meaning of his words.
What neither of them knew at that stage was that they would not get to speak or see each other for a very long time to come.
Not far from her office a man was standing slightly hidden behind a pillar. He had observed her from a distance, the same way he had been doing for the past couple of weeks and as such he had been able to overhear the conversation with what was supposed to be her archenemy. Leaning with his shoulder against the pillar, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his eyes darkened dangerously before he whispered softly under his breath, "Not for long Sis, not for long."
She entered her house with the same carefulness that had became an integral part of her being ever since her so-called father had jumped from The Centre's plane with the remains of some mysterious scrolls clutched in his hands. After all there was nobody left to protect her anymore from the evil that was part of the place she had been calling her employer for so many years of her life.
Looking over the contents of the room in front of her, especially checking whether certain of her furniture pieces was still in the exact spot she had painstakingly moved them to earlier on that morning before leaving for work, she uttered a soft sigh of relief. Dropping her suitcase on the floor she made her way over to a table where an elegant-looking phone with an answering machine was awaiting her arrival in patience.
Glancing at her answering machine she noticed that there was a couple of messages for her, but instead of checking them she picked up the handset of the phone and dialed a familiar number she knew off-hand.
After barely a few seconds the person on the other side answered and she replied with, "Syd, it's me…yes I'm fine…no nothing was disturbed…yes I promise to be careful…I'm a grown woman Syd and more than capable of looking after myself so stop fussing…yes goodnight."
During her telephonic conversation with the man that had always been a kind of a paternal figure in her life she had taken off her jacket, laying it down neatly on the table, and poured herself a glass of brandy from the tray that always stood available close at hand. At the end of the dialogue she put down the handset and swallowed all of the dark liquid in her glass at the first attempt. She shuddered slightly before instantly pouring herself another glass that took the same route than before.
Closing her eyes for a second, clutching her stomach with one hand she took a couple of deep breaths in order to calm down her ever-raging ulcer. When it finally appeared as if she had a bit of control over the pain she put the glass upside down on the tray.
Registering the angry blinking light from the answering machine she pressed the activation button and listened to the messages as she made her way to the closest sofa and collapsed in it out of sheer exhaustion.
"You have seven messages," the machine voice started in its cold, neutral tone as she laid her head down on one of the armrests, curling her feet up underneath her.
"Message 1," the voice continued onwards.
"Ms Parker, it's me Broots. H-ello? Are you there? Hello? Hello? It's me Broots. If you are there please pick up the phone. If you are getting this message I tried to get hold of you on your cell but only got your voicemail. I think I may have a new lead on Jarod so please phone me when you get a chance."
"Not tonight El' Nerdo," she whispered and closed her eyes, as such not noticing the shadow forming in the doorway of her bathroom.
"Message 2," the machine stated again.
"Hello, Ms Parker? It's me again, Broots. Just checking whether you've received my first message yet. Okay…I'll speak to you later."
"Yeah right," she mumbled, feeling the first clutches of sleep tugging at the corners of her mind. The result was that her normal sharp senses did not register the sound of faint footsteps closing in on her.
"Message 3."
This time no words were forthcoming, only that of a person taking a few deep breaths before the line was disconnected.
"Message 4."
A few more deep breaths were heard without the sounds of any voice to identity the caller.
This time she frowned and opened her eyes but then discarded the two messages as that of a prank caller before putting her head back down on the soft, inviting fabric of her allocated headrest. The shadow had frozen in its tracks when she moved but continued on its trek when it appeared that she was about to go back to her state of semi-sleepiness.
"Message 5."
"Ms Parker…," a wheezy breath tore through every syllable, "the fact that your cellphone is off is unacceptable. You will do well to remember where your alliances are supposed to lay."
"Take a hike Mr Sneezy," she slurred over her speech, feeling the effects of the alcohol and deep sleep closing in on her. The shadow took another few steps closer from the darkness to enter the light surrounding her sofa. It slowly transformed into the visual image of a dark-clad man with a mask covering his face.
"Message 6."
Again it was the deep breathing. This time it was followed by something that sounded suspiciously like those of a woman pleading for help, but her words were muffled by something that covered her mouth.
But…
At this stage the woman on the sofa was far lost in dreamland, snoring only slightly as proof.
Message 7."
"Ms Parker, this is Sydney. Broots informed me that he was unable to get hold of you and I told him that you didn't feel well and have taken the night off. Raines were also looking for you, but I informed him that you wouldn't be back in the office until tomorrow morning. Please remember to phone me when you arrive home so that I can know you are alright."
"End of new messages," the machine concluded and went quiet at the same time as the masked man jumped forward to put an ominous looking cloth over Ms Parker's mouth and with his other arm he pushed down hard on her body to prevent her from trashing around.
Years of training enabled her to wake up almost instantaneously and without thinking twice she lashed out with her free hand to try and slap her attacker's hand away. When it did not appear as if he was relenting she scratched with her long nails across the only bare flesh, his wrist, resulting in deep dark gashes to appear on his skin and some minor blood flowing.
It caused the man to yelp softly in pain and when she felt his hold on her relinquishing slightly she rolled off the sofa and tried to jump to her feet but the world suddenly started spinning around her.
Unable to keep upright she collapsed on the floor. At the back of her mind she registered that whatever was on the cloth that her attacker had forced over her mouth was strong and was busy taking an effect on her. Also she realized that unless she did something immediately she was going to loose consciousness pretty soon and as such gave complete control over to the invader to do with her whatever pleased him.
Despite the fact that she was on the loosing end of a battle she refused to give up. Biting on her bottom lip hard, hoping that the pain would give her the edge to remain awake, she started crawling in the direction of the table where she last left her jacket and as far as she could remember her gun.
Her attacker, realizing her plan, chuckled softly and leaped forward. Just as he was about to wrap his hands around her ankles in an attempt to drag her towards him she suddenly strike out with her leg to kick him full force in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards a few steps.
Without waiting to see if he was going to recover she continued with her crawl toward the table, praying that she would have enough time to reach the safety of her weapon.
At that moment her phone started ringing and after a couple of tries, both parties in the house appeared nearly frozen at this sudden invasion in their survival dance, switched over to her answering machine.
"Ms Parker, it's me Jarod," at hearing his voice she mumbled, "Jarod," and with a great lot of effort tried to continue onwards, to reach the phone before he hung up on her. She was sure that if she could only answer that call he would be able to find a way to protect her against the evil that had invaded what used to be her only sanctuary, her house. The table was now only a few feet away from her but even that seemed like a huge distance to her drug-induced body and mind.
"Your cellphone was off and Sydney told me that you weren't feeling well and that you went home early. I…I just thought that I'll call to see how you were doing and –"
The rest of his sentence disappeared into the background noise as the attacker finally overpowered her. Sitting down on her legs he pushed her arms above her head with one hand, to prevent her from attempting another escape, and started fumbling in his jacket's pocket with his other hand.
Feeling an intense anger burning in her soul at her lack of strength and resulting helplessness she resorted to her only remaining option. "Who the hell are you! What do you want from me! I work for an powerful organization and they will hunt you down and feed your own balls to you if you hurt me in anyway," she spat at him, furor spread across her face but inwardly she could feel fear forming in her heart.
Her aggressor chuckled again and leaned forward to place his mouth against her ear, "You know you are really beautiful when you are angry."
Her eyes immediately widened in shock and with her last ouch of remaining strength she was able to free an arm. Reaching out a hand she snatched at the mask covering his face and removed it.
The last thing that she saw before the pin-prick of a needle against her arm caused her to loose her consciousness altogether, was the face of a mad man which would get to haunt her nightmares for many years to come.
He knew that she was out cold. After all he had designed the drug himself and had tested it on many innocent victims in the past to ensure its effectiveness.
To play it safe he waited another two minutes before relenting his hold on her. Lifting himself from her unconscious body he walked back to his former hiding place, her bathroom, and removed the canister of petrol that he had stored behind the door with the intent to use later on.
Without a second thought he started pouring the contents of the canister all over the contents of the house, whistling softly as he went along, and once finished he went back to the bathroom.
Pushing the shower curtain to one side he stared down at the dead body laying in front of him in silent satisfaction for a while. The poor woman's eyes was completely blank and she was staring in horror at whatever was the last sight she had seen before death came to claim her. Her only crime had been that she bore an almost frightening resemblance to the unconscious woman laying on the other side of the house and as such had to pay with her life to satisfy the cravings of an insane human being.
Smiling he picked up the body, throwing it over his shoulder, and started making his way back to his former place of action. Not caring about respecting the dead he threw the body unceremoniously down on the floor before picking up the unconscious woman in his arms and exiting the house immediately. Since he had carefully planned for this day for a long time he did not need to remain in the house any longer than was needed.
Not long after his exit from the house a bomb that he had planted underneath her bed exploded in a big show of light, color and fire but by that time a car carrying two passengers was already on its way to whatever destination fate had determined.