Spoilers for "Beauty and the Beast" ep "Though Lovers be Lost" and "Pretenders" ep "Meltdown"
The Past is Prologue - Fall 1989, New York City
A woman in her early 50's sat at her desk at 1600 6th Avenue, 14th floor. In the years since she'd left the Center, Catherine Parker had gone from job to job, finally ending up in New York City. She half expected the Center sweepers to come after her, or for Jarod and Hannah to come after her to complete her plan. But no one ever came.
Gabriel Gennisee's organization reminded her a lot of the Center. His over weaning ego and need for privacy combined with a terribly sadistic streak set the tone. He was working on a new project, something to do with a child. She'd been told to take care of the nursery personally. It had taken 5 tries to get it right - he wanted nothing but the best for the child.
Catherine had a feeling, honed by years at the Center and on the run, that Gabriel was not telling her everything involved. Okay, so maybe it wasn't a great leap, but it was what had kept her here when she normally would have fled in a terror of memory.
Finishing up, she gathered papers into a folder. She strode down the hallway to Gabriel's office. Knocking on the door and gaining no reply, she opened the door. Technically she shouldn't be going into the room uninvited, but Gabriel had said he wanted the file on his desk ASAP. Setting the file on the desk, a passing glance stopped her cold.
Sitting on the desk was a pile of black and white photos. Pictures of a lion faced man, apparently in a rage, were intermingled with those of a woman in various stages of pregnancy - always in the same stark room. My God, she thought, it can't be. Where was this woman? In the building, her mind raced back the answer. Gabriel, so in need of control, would want easy access to her - and to the child she carried.
She only had to find out where. No child, even what was apparently a genetically engineered one, could be left in Gabriel's hand. She hadn't been able to save Timothy, or Jarod, or Ethan, or even her daughter Hannah from a life in the Center. But maybe she could save this child.
* * *
The power went out, bathing the hallway in darkness. Stepping up her pace, she quickly made her way to the room at the end of the hallway. Glancing quickly around, she inserted a key into the lock and cautiously opened the door.
"I'm here to help you. Come with me, hurry," Parker whispered urgently, offering a coat and shoes.
The woman stared at her in disbelief.
"You can stay here and give your baby over to Gabriel Genissee, or you can take a chance and come with me."
That seemed to galvanize the young woman. She quickly put on the items offered.
"Lead the way."
The two women made their way down the fire escape and into a dark alley. Turn left, Jake Tyler had said, and then a right - into another alley. Move to the fire escape, and wait. Someone will meet you there, and take you to safety. A car whizzed by and a child, barely a teenager, barreled into the alley on a bike. And stopped cold. Cathy, she mouthed in disbelief.
"Ellian, what are you doing here?"
The girl dropped the bike in shock.
"F-father said they needed someone to show entrance to the tunnels, that knew this part of town. Here," the child said, suddenly remembering herself. She hid the bike behind a smelly dumpster, covering it with a cardboard box. Pulling up a drainage grate, she produced a flashlight from under her jacket. The child dropped down into the hole and many loud beats of the heart later the top of a ladder appeared. "Can you make it down?" a small voice echoed from below.
This was unbelievable, Catherine Parker thought as she helped the heavily pregnant woman down the ladder. Their descent complete, the ladder was quickly pulled down and the grate replaced. The child moved to a pipe and quickly tapped what only could be a message, but in a code Parker didn't know.
The child hugged Cathy Chandler, clearly glad to see her.
"Vincent, and Mr. Maxwell, and everyone have been searching for you. I'd almost given up hope, but Vincent never did. Is it Vincent's?" the child nodded toward Cathy's stomach as she led them through the maze of tunnels.
The woman smiled, and nodded. The two seemed to have forgotten Catherine Parker for the moment.
"Well, I'm glad I was finally found. Where is he? I can't quite understand the tapping after all this time."
"Just behind us. He didn't want to scare her," the child replied, indicating Parker.
Parker looked behind them, barely making out a cloaked figure. Her hair stood on end.
* * *
Father waited patiently in his chambers, fingering the chessboard. He was always nervous when someone new came below, but was all the more so in this instance. The two in need hadn't been seen by the helper who recommended them in almost two decades - a time period which could bring a lot of changes. All he knew about them was the debt the helper had alluded to during the council meeting.
Closing his eyes, he listened to the pipes. And sat bolt upright at the sentry's relay of a message. Could it be that, after all this time, Catherine was back and escorted by this newcomer? He paced the room, wanting to be able to hurry the small party's way to his chamber but knowing he couldn't.
After a few agonizing minutes, the three stood at the entrance to his chamber. Father couldn't help staring. There stood the Helper's child Ellian, an elderly woman about his age, and a very pregnant Catherine Chandler. Recovering quickly, he invited them in.
"I take it things went as planned."
The child nodded.
"Now comes the difficult part."
* * *
Joe Maxwell looked stared at the ceiling, and took another sip of beer. Grimacing, he swallowed. If someone had told him 3 years ago (hell, even 6 months ago) that he'd be on suspension with no end in site, he'd have laughed in their face. But he wasn't laughing now. He threw the empty beer can at the wall.
And got an answering knock in response. At first, he thought it was the beer, but the knock continued insistently.
"Who is it?" he yelled.
"Joe let me in," the impatient voice was familiar somehow.
He got up and looked through the peephole. Gee, now I'm hallucinating, he thought, but opened the door on the chance that he wasn't. There stood Catherine Chandler, an older woman with graying hair, and a burly redheaded man with a beard. Cathy turned and whispered something to the man and he left hesitantly.
"Hi, Joe," she greeted him like it hadn't been six months since she'd last seen him. "I heard you were suspended on my account, and came to say I was sorry."
Joe just stood there, gaping, before he recovered himself just apologize for the mess and offer her a drink. She declined, but handed him her coat. It was then that he got a good look at her. Somehow the oversized coat had hidden a baby cuddled in a snuggly against her chest.
"Cathy, what? Where? Huh?"
"I see that rapier wit of yours is still intact. Here, sit down and I'll start from the beginning."
Joe listened as Catherine Chandler, ex-New York debutante turned crusading district attorney, related slowly the events of the past half year. Everything - Moreno, the kidnapping, her pregnancy, the imprisonment and her escape (sans details about the tunnels) - was related in painful detail and horrified vagueness. He sat stunned through out it all, then looked incredulously from one woman to the other.
"You're both willing to testify?"
"We wouldn't be here otherwise, Joe."
* * *
Cathy had once heard someone say that the wheels of justice turned slowly but that injustice was fueled by the wind. She couldn't help but agree. She and Maybell Collins had been placed in the witness protection program and now waited, patiently, in an ultra high security level of a high security federal building. They got daily updates from Joe Maxwell, but Cathy sometimes got overwhelmed by the feeling that she was back in Gabriel's tower. It was at these times, and when she fed Jacob, that she wanted to go running back to the tunnels and to Vincent's waiting arm.
And it was then that Maybell held her and rocked her and sung her some nameless lullaby. Maybell had been closed off about her past before working in Gabriel's organization, but had alluded to children and a husband somewhere. Cathy could see the woman sometimes yearned for contact with them and it took all her strength not to ask. The only time answer she'd ever given was that they thought she was dead and that it was safer that way.
"Earth to Radcliffe. Come in."
"Sorry, Joe. What were you saying?"
"I can see we won't get any more work done today," he threw down the pen. He softened his voice. "I've been told I have a real good ear."
She shook her head and sighed. "I'm just wondering if life will ever seem normal again. There have been more changes in the past 3 years than the whole rest of my life. I can't see where I'm going any more."
Joe leaned forward and touched her arm.
"Your job's there if you want it, when the trials over. That is, if you keep insisting on not going into the witness protection program."
She shook her head to the latter. She didn't want to be relocated to away from the tunnels and didn't want to be a hiding from Gabriel Gennissee. It would feel too much like running away. She'd considered moving to the tunnels, the way Maybell had decided to do, but couldn't imagine living so close to Vincent when he still held her at arms length.
"Thanks for the job offer, Joe. I might just take you up on that." She smiled, wanly.
He smiled back, concerned.
* * *
"Ex-DA Moreno Takes Deal."
Joe sighed at the headline. The "DA Kidnapping Case", dubbed so by the media, had lead the 5:00 news for the past few weeks. The fall out of corruption in the higher echelons of the city had been enormous. Now acting District Attorney, he'd been right in the middle of it trying to keep some degree of sanity amid press conferences, Johnny Carson monologues, and a total reshuffling of the District Attorney's office. He would've killed to have the steady presence of Catherine Chandler, but understood that having an important witness running around as target practice wasn't a very bright idea.
They'd finally gotten a court date for Gabriel Genissee. Hopefully, all would go well.
"Mysterious Witness Testifies in DA Kidnapping Trial."
The trial was going almost too smoothly and Cathy kept expecting the other shoe to drop. She was set to testify tomorrow and felt a mixture of relief and dread. She looked down at her son, sleeping peacefully his bassinet, and stroked his soft cheek. For you, she thought, so you won't look over your shoulder. So you'll be safe.
"Gabriel Gennissee Declares Fatherhood of DA's Baby."
It had been surreal. Gennissee, previously paying little attention to the court proceedings, had lunged at Catherine Chandler as she testified. He'd called her a bitch and a whore. He had yelled that no matter what she did, Jacob Charles Chandler would always be his son. Blood typing had indicated that he couldn't possibly have fathered Cathy's son, but that hadn't deterred the rumor mill.
"Jury says Gennissee Guilty."
It was a relief that it was over. It was a relief that not only did she have a job, she'd been promoted. To Deputy District Attorney, no less. So why did she half to busy herself so much that she couldn't think straight? Why had she moved when the memories of Vincent on her balcony apartment got too much?
The answer was simple. He never came to see her; she had to initiate all of their contact. What little contact they had was gained mostly when she picked up and dropped off Jacob to stay Below for the day. And even that little was strained. Mary had told her Vincent blamed himself for what had happened. Father had told her to give Vincent time. Mouse told her Vincent moped about and sulked. Vincent barely said two words to her and never touched her.
She was reaching her breaking point.
* * *
Vincent mulled in his chamber. Catherine had already taken Jacob Above, to her brownstone with the new easy access Mouse and Cullen had worked out. He didn't even have to risk the streets Above to see her now.
Yet, he kept his distance.
He couldn't quite believe in himself, in them.
He couldn't quite believe that she would choose him over what lay "out there." Above, in the sunlight, offered her so much possibility.
"Mulling over something you can change just makes the rift deeper."
Vincent looked up to see Maybell.
"I can't change it."
"You mean you won't," the steely voice answered.
"These hands have..."
"Done no better or worse than any other mans, Vincent. Trust me when I say I've seen how cruel man can be."
"I brought this on Catherine. If it weren't for me, she'd still have a chance at a life Above. She wouldn't be tied to..."
"To what, Vincent? A monster? Shall I tell you what other men have done that make you look the saint?" Maybell's voice rang with untold grief, bottled up with survival and denial for 20 years. "Little children, broken and used, taken forcibly from their parents and locked away? Did I tell you my own husband, raised Above and the perfect man on paper, had me impregnated by another man because he was more concerned with my gifts than with keeping my trust?" Maybell was yelling hysterically now, tears streaming down her face. All Vincent could do was sit in shock.
"Shall I tell you how I faked my own death to be rid of him, only to put myself in the hands of someone worse?" Maybell's hands shook violently. "I had to leave my daughter in his hands. I had to leave 2 little boys in the hands of monsters. I had to hear my daughter screaming over my body while I played dead. Monsters make it into the world Above, Vincent. You can't guarantee her a happy life by pushing her away. The proverb doesn't say to push away your loved ones when they return. It only says to let them make the choice. She loves you, Vincent. Four months in that hell hole they called a witness protection program and all she talked about was wanting to be with you." Her voice had stopped trembling, and was now filled with an iron conviction. "She loves and respects you enough to wait until you're ready. Out of all the men she's met, she's choosen you. Jacob is living proof that the world won't come to an end if you're intimate with her. Tell me, Vincent, why don't you love and respect her enough to let her make that decision?" Maybell's jaw was clenched firmly; a stray tear rolled down her cheek.
Vincent stood in shock. In the months he'd known her, Maybell Collins had never raised her voice to anyone, let alone with the anger and vehemence she now displayed.
"I do love her, more that life itself," he bellowed. "I'm so scared, so frightened of what might happen. Lisa..."
"Lisa and you were children, still discovering yourselves. The first boy I kissed actually gave me a bloody lip. I doubt he swore off women. Yes, you are physically different, but it is a matter of degree not kind," her soft voice reassured. "She is willing to be with you even after you forgot your precious restraint and allowed this terrible thing to happen. Shouldn't you at least go to her and ask her why? Don't you owe it to her to explain why you're cutting yourself off from her?"
Vincent breathed heavily, in and out. Lip raised to bare his fangs, he looked into the woman's eyes. He shook his head in confusion. Was she right?
She cupped his cheek in her hand. "Degree, not kind. You are one of the best men I have ever known," she smiled at him, kissed his forehead and left.
Catherine felt a hand brush against her hair and startled awake.
"Do you always fall asleep in this rocker, nursing our child?"
"Vincent!" She rose from the chair and hugged him to her. "You came."
"We need to talk, Catherine, about a great many things."
"Yes, we do."
The Here is Now - Fall 2000, New York City
Jarod stared at the microfiche screen. He'd tracked Catherine Parker this far, where she'd helped bring down a crime lord named Gabriel Genissee. His trial had brought sensational headlines and newspaper sales - both for the romanticized version of events and for the fact that an assistant district attorney had been held by him for 6 months. But now, the trail dead ended. Catherine Parker, known to Genissee and New York City as Maybell Collins, had disappeared off the face of the earth.
That could only mean one of two things. One, that someone at the Center actually read the newspaper. Or two, that she'd gone deep underground to avoid the eventual arrival of Center officials. He hoped for the latter. And he quickly dialed a number against the latter.
"Parker," the familiar voice answered.
"It's about your mother. I've traced her to New York City in 1989, but can't get any farther."
"My mother was alive in 1989, Jarod? What else do you know?"
"Well, the picture in this newspaper story looks remarkably like her. I suggest you check in Centre files for where she may have gone next."
He returned the receiver to its cradle. He pressed a button on his laptop and faxed her the story.
* * *
Jarod watched as Catherine Chandler leaned over to wipe ketchup from the face of her daughter. The child said something and laughed, getting a similar reaction from her older brother. He watched as Catherine rolled her eyes and smiled at Joe Maxwell. Would his life have been something like this, without the interference of the Centre?
Jarod shook himself. He had to concentrate. If the Center hadn't gotten to Catherine Parker, then Chandler was the best chance to pick up the trail. There was no doubt that Miss Parker would make the same assumption. There was something more going on here, though, absent of Centre intrigue. He looked down at the open file folder on the table. "Certificate of Live Birth," one sheet read, belonging to one Jacob Charles Chandler. All of his mother's information was filled out, but it proclaimed "father unknown." Caroline Victoria Chandler's claimed the same thing, although Jarod saw enough resemblance in the children to be almost certain they had the same father. Who, or what, was their mother protecting?
He'd never find out sitting across a noisy McDonald's from them. Gathering up his papers and food, he crossed the restaurant.
"Mind if I join you at the trough?" he asked.
"Pigs eat at troughs, people don't, silly," a dutiful child informed him as her mother motioned for Jarod to join them.
"You know, I think you're absolutely right. Where was my mind?"
"Um," the child pondered. "Mars?"
Jarod laughed.
"So, Caroline," he whispered to the child, "do you think you can get your mother to give me less homework?"
* * *
Miss Parker hung up the phone. It was just like Jarod to give her some tantalizing bit of information and be sketchy about the details. Distractedly looking at the fax machine as it spit out some urgent piece of business, she nearly missed Broot's entrance.
"What's this?" he asked, picking up the fax. "Hey, this is Jarod's handwriting!"
Parker snatched it out of his hand. It was a bad copy of an 11 year old New York Times clipping made worse by electronic transmission. A picture of an older woman sitting in a witness stand was surrounded by a story entitled "Mysterious Witness Testifies in DA Kidnapping Trial." Jarod had circled the picture and written "Look familiar?" in the margin.
"Get me everything you've got on this - trial transcripts, full background on everyone involved, anything you can get your hands on. Meet me in an hour at the landing strip."
Broots nodded and left.
Miss Parker had always loathed the waiting involved in flying and this time was no exception. Broot's voice brought her back to reality.
"Catherine Chandler disappeared just after her boss gave her some book detailing corruption in the DA's office. There was an investigation, but it didn't lead anywhere. Joe Maxwell was even suspended for continuing the investigation."
"Someone didn't want her found."
"Exactly. Well, 6 months after she disappeared, Chandler shows up - with a newborn baby. She never did say who the father was, although the rumor was it belonged to the guy that kidnapped her."
"Broots, it takes 9 months to make a baby," she informed him icily.
"Yeah, I know. But the rumor was that's why he kept her alive instead of killing her. I mean, normally a guy like this would have just killed her to send a message, pregnant or not."
"Broots, just go on."
"Well, apparently the woman in the clipping Jarod sent us was a kind of secretary to Genissee. Her testimony, combined with Chandler's and Moreno's was pretty condemning. Genissee got two life sentences without possibility of parole. Moreno, who was District Attorney at the time and as corrupt as they get, took a deal and served 8 years. He's still on probation. I've already got an expediter interviewing them, and another one keeping tabs on Chandler and Maxwell."
"Good."
Jarod quickly glanced outside, and his brow furrowed. Across the street, a nondescript dark car had pulled into a conveniently empty space. If he'd been closer, he was sure he'd see Delaware plates. Quickly excusing himself from the fun, he left the restaurant via the back door. He'd have to be more subtle if he wanted to stay in New York. And he did - if only for the slight chance that Catherine Parker knew where his mother was.
Slowly he made his way through the alley and onto Fifth Avenue. Casually making his way down the block, he suddenly felt a gun at his back.
"Don't move. I'm going to get a big promotion for capturing you when even the great Miss Parker couldn't."
"Fat chance," Jarod elbowed the man before breaking into a run. He swerved into an alley, climbing swiftly over a chain link fence. He heard a gun shot ricochet off the wall and looked quickly around for cover. A drainage grate caught his eye and he quickly yanked it up. Dropping down, he covered the grate and randomly picked a direction.
He must have gone no more than 100 meters when he ran into a scruffy looking man. His disheveled blond hair and patched clothing pegged him as one of the cities homeless, if one of the cleaner ones.
"Not supposed to be here. No one supposed to be here. Too close. Must go," the man pleaded.
"Then show me the nearest way out."
"Back the way you came," the man started.
"No, I can't go back there. I'm being chased. Please, is there another way?"
The man looked at him.
"Bad men? Can't have bad men in the tunnels - not safe. Must tell Vincent. Or Father. Hurry, this way."
Jarod became aware of a steady tapping as he followed the shorter man through the tunnels. They stopped at a bend, no different than the others had passed, with no obvious exit out of the tunnels.
"Do not turn around," a silky voice commanded him from behind. "Who are you?"
"My name is Jarod Crichton."
"The new assistant district attorney. What brings you below the city?"
Jarod wondered how he knew that.
"Was chased, Vincent," the blond man offered.
Jarod heard an indrawn breath as the tapping pipes increased in urgency.
"You've brought an armed man into the tunnels. Who is he?" the figure behind him asked.
"The organization he works for took me from my parents when I was a child. I escaped but they want me back," Jarod surprised himself by telling the truth.
"Mouse, take him to Father. Then, have someone send for Catherine."
Jarod heard retreating footsteps. When he turned, he saw a cloaked figure running they way he and Mouse had just come.
"Follow Mouse," the man gestured and Jarod did.
* * *
Catherine entered Father's chamber. She looked up to the raised half-level and saw Vincent standing there in the shadows. Smiling a greeting at him, she moved toward the table where Jarod and Father sat.
"If you were in trouble, you should have come to me."
Jarod whipped around, startled.
"Cathy? You're the Catherine they sent for?"
She nodded and sat down.
"Maybe you should explain things a bit. Everything you tell us doesn't have to leave this room."
Jarod sat back down at moved his gaze between Cathy and the man called Father. Both sat patiently, awaiting his words. He looked up at raised half-level. He knew someone was there - everyone coming or going from this room had seruptiously looked up there. He wondered if it was this mysterious man he'd met in the tunnel earlier. He looked back at the other two at the table. Jarod related a truncated version of his childhood in the tower and the events that had led him to New York, leaving out the nastier sidelines and twists. The two, to their credit, held back their questions until he'd finished relating the story. The questions, when they came, were intelligent and well thought out. Soon, the woman named Mary came and led him to a guest chamber where he could "rest".
Vincent came down the spiral staircase and joined them at the table.
"Work on sealing the entrances in the area Jarod entered is well underway. Perhaps you should stay below while this is going on. This could be dangerous."
"We need someone Above now as eyes and ears, Vincent. I'm in the best position as deputy DA to get the information we need. I agree, you and the children should stay below, though."
Vincent felt the protest on her lips, wishing they could call on Joe Maxwell to help out more fully. But he knew she was right - Catherine was the best placed person to act as an intermediary between her two worlds.
"Father?"
The three looked up at Maybell Collins, standing at the threshold to Father's chamber.
"I ran into Mouse, and I think I can help."
* * *
"What do you mean, you can't find the expediter that was following Chandler? What, did he fall into a black hole? He couldn't have just disappeared!"
"I know, Miss Parker. He wouldn't answer his phone or his pager. When we had the satellite track them, we found them in a dumpster in the Bronx."
"What was he in the Bronx for? Have you found Chandler yet?"
"No to both. It seems they've both disappeared. The last time anyone saw Chandler was 6:30 last night, at a McDonald's. I'm not sure how honest Maxwell was being - he seemed protective of Chandler."
"Willie," Parker turned, "stake out her brownstone. I want to know the minute she gets home. Get Ellian to follow Maxwell. Chandler's got to be somewhere."
* * *
"Cathy, where have you been?" Joe stormed into her office, slamming the door behind him. "I tried to get a hold of you all night. There were some pretty scary people looking for you last night. They said you were in danger - something about Genissee's men finally coming after you."
So that was the story, Catherine thought.
"I know, Joe. That's why I wasn't answering the phone last night," she related the cover story worked out the previous night. "An old contact tipped me off. I wanted to get the kids to safely to a friend's house."
"Cathy, if these guys have you this scared, maybe you should go into the witness protection..."
"Joe," she cut him off. "These people may not be who they appear to be. Or even if they are, there might be a leak. Genisee's people have paid others off before, or haven't you forgotten?"
Joe looked as if she'd slapped him in the face.
"You don't think I..."
"No, Joe, no. I'm just not willing to trust their safety to a program that might be compromised."
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Escobar stook her head in.
"There are some people here to see you, Cathy. They say it's important."
"Show them in."
A tall, all-business brunette and a balding man brushed past Escobar.
"Ms. Chandler? I'm Miss Parker. I'd like to talk to you alone for a moment." It wasn't a request.
"You're guy stays, my guys stays," Cathy countered.
* * *
Ellian sipped the lukewarm coffee. Looking across the street toward the Criminal Justice building, she could still feel the sense of surreal deja vu that had gripped her when she'd gotten the orders to come to New York after Jarod. She wondered how the events of 11 years ago, and the part of her life she'd kept hidden for so long, had to do with Jarod. The sense of anger and confusion held by a 13 year old kid all those years ago had surfaced yet again when she'd interviewed Moreno and Genissee.
She had to find a way to get Below - or at least to Cathy - to warn them about the danger the Centre posed. It was too great a possibility that Miss Parker could find out about the tunnels. She was already past the line, though. She'd covered up Carl's body, recognizing all to well who's handiwork the claw marks had been. He'd be buried in Potter's field today.
Looking at her watch, she decided she had just enough time. Cathy would keep Parker and Broots as long as possible to get all the information she could. Hopefully, they wouldn't miss her. Leaving payment on the table, she left the coffee shop and hurried down the block, setting a hurried pace only learned in New York. Entering a small deli, she smiled at the owner. She sighed in relief to see it still operated by a helper.
"Ellian, I haven't seen you in how long? Five years? You must visit Below - Father and the others will be happy that one of our own has returned. Are you back for good?"
"No, John, I'm just in town on business and thought I'd stop by to say hello. And get some of that great sausage of yours."
"Of course, of course," the man started to pack up the smoked sausage that had been a special treat growing up. "I'll get you a few pounds, on the house. You look like a few more pounds wouldn't hurt. On the house." He handed the package over the butchers counter.
"No, John, let me pay," Ellian reached into her blazer and took out a five. Handing it over the counter, she looked at him with an unmistakable meaning in her eye.
"Oh, okay," he gave up more easily than he would have under normal circumstances. "Winterfest is this week, if you can come."
"I'd like that. I'll probably be down here tomorrow and you can give me all the details."
* * *
DANGER. Miss Parker and Broots connected with very dangerous agency called the Centre, after a man named "Jarod". May ferret out your secret to regain their own. Will run interference, but felt you needed warning. Will come Below if and when I'm able to explain further.
"This was given to you by Ellian Tyler? And she didn't tell you where she was staying, or for how long?"
"No, only that she'd be back tomorrow. I was going to spend tomorrow Below to help prepare for Winterfest, but..."
"You might want to stay Above. For whatever reason, she hasn't contacted any of the helpers she was close to. There might be a reason we're not aware of that's keeping her from contacting them."
Father nodded and looked at the note, trying to ferret out some other clue from the short note.
"Take a Winterfest candle and tell her it's tomorrow night. Hopefully she can get away."
John nodded and returned Above.
* * *
"Damn it, Tyler. You're one of our best agents, you used to live here, and you're telling me you can't find out any more? I could finally find my mother, and you're holding out on me!"
Ellian saw on her face that Parker hadn't meant to reveal that last. It could be a deadly admission in the right hands and Ellian could use it to get Parker in front of the Triumvirate. Her mother? Was that the reason Parker hadn't brought Jarod in - she thought he'd lead her to her mother? It suddenly occurred to the expediter that Jarod may have never been in New York City - and that she suddenly had an advantage. She just had to play it right.
"I wasn't going to say anything in case it didn't work out, but I managed to get a meeting with an old buddy of mine. He's well connected, but skittish. He'll run if anyone but me shows up." If you follow I'll report you. Give me room. Ellian didn't have to say it. Parker understood.
Ellian caught a cab to Catherine Chandler's old apartment. Making sure she wasn't followed, she entered the basement and closed the panel. Her feet carried her down the long familiar path to the home tunnels. She heard the sentry tap out her approach to Father, and was soon at his chamber. Cathy, Vincent, Father, a man that could be Jarod, and a woman she thought was Maybell Collins were already there.
"You know my daughter? Did she send you?"
Ellian stopped in her tracks. "Your daughter?"
"Hannah. Parker. Is she ok? Did she get my plan?" Maybell stopped when she realized the expediter was totally confused. "You don't have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
"Miss Parker only knows that I've gone to "meet an informant". Her first name is Hannah, huh? Guess I lost that pool. The story is that we're here looking for Jarod."
The meeting went into the night, it's subject an antithesis to the happenings in the Great Hall. Its conclusion satisfied no one fully, but at least it could be lived with.
* * *
In the hours since Tyler had gone to her meeting, Miss Parker had made several phone calls. Some were to wrack up insurance against an ambitious underling; some were to make sure she wouldn't face a tribunal when she got back to the Centre. And now, she concentrated on going over and over the information gathered, as if by just staring at it she'd make Jarod, her mother, and all the dirty secrets pop out.
A knock at the hotel door startled her.
"Who is it?"
"Tyler."
Parker jumped up and opened the door.
"You won't believe who I found," Tyler said, walking past Parker and into the room. An elderly woman followed her. Parker moved to protest, but the woman spoke first."
"You won't believe how small this world has become, Hannah. Maybe we can work on that plan now, daughter."