Disclaimer: I own none of the original Pretender characters or the basic storyline. They belong to others, so there is no infringement on my part and I'm not making any money from this.
Author's note: Please, I absolutely need some feedback. Thank you very much for all the feedback for the first part.
Memory Ronin
Part II
By Callisto
The Major was driving the truck with care for two reasons: one he didn't want to unnecessarily jar their unconscious passenger and two the road they were traveling along was rutted and heavily populated with undercarriage-damaging rocks. They continued the drive in silence as the main highway abruptly came into view. The Major made a quick right from the rutted road and onto the paved highway. He sped down the highway for a few miles then started to slow down dramatically, searching for the turnoff he needed to take in order to avoid any roadblocks their passenger may have set up to thwart their escape.
The lurching of the truck caused Miss Parker's head to bounce softly against his shoulder. Her full weight was leaning against him partially constricting the movement of his right arm. Jarod seeing his father's predicament, gently but firmly pulled Miss Parker upright by her arm and gently guided her battered head to his own shoulder. He held her up in a more comfortable position and transferred her dead weight against his body. He secured his grip on her to restrict the movement of her head by tucking his arm around her waist.
Major Charles, suddenly feeling her weight lift free from his arm was grateful for the relief. When they entered a relatively smooth patch of road, the Major darted a swift glance at Jarod. Intending on giving his son a quick smile of thanks, he instead saw Jarod looking down at Miss Parker with a tender, almost loving expression on his face. This caught the Major off-guard and he returned his eyes to the hazardous road ahead without breaking the silence to concentrate on his driving and to reflect on what he had just seen.
After another half-hour of driving on forest trails and back roads without engaging in much conversation, the Major pulled to a weary stop at a rustic turnout.
"She needs some treatment for that bad cut on her head. I would have stopped earlier but I didn't want to risk running into or being caught by anyone from the Centre," the Major replied looking at his son over Miss Parker's head.
Maneuvering her body so she was leaning upright against the seat, Jarod reached down at his feet and started digging through the heavy backpack his father had been carrying; it contained a well-stocked medical kit. He quickly began using a cloth and some bottled water to clean the blood from the wound and her face. In about 5 minutes, Jarod had carefully put in 2 stitches to close the wound and covered it with an antiseptic cream and cloth bandage. He repacked the medical supplies and pulled out two nutrition bars and a canteen of water. He brought these items over to his father who was dangling his feet over the sheer edge of the crevasse where they had stopped. Jarod sat next to his father and handed him one of the bars and the canteen of water.
"She should remain unconscious for at least another couple hours but probably the rest of the night. I suspect she's going to be in a particularly nasty mood the minute she wakes up," Jarod commented with a half laugh.
"From the little bit I know about her, that temper is quite formidable." The Major paused for a few seconds before continuing, "so tell me, what is the story with you two? I saw how you were looking at her earlier and it had nothing to do with being concerned about her medical condition."
Staring into the darkness, Jarod sighed lightly; his thoughts were in a jumble. Not knowing where to start, he shrugged slightly and gave his usual reply, "it's complicated."
"I gathered that. One minute you're talking about her like she has a tail, two horns and a pitchfork and the next minute you're looking at her like she's the only woman in the world who could make you happy. I realize it won't be easy or the explanation simple—I just want you to explain."
Closing his eyes briefly, Jarod concentrated on a way to encapsulate his bizarre relationship with Miss Parker. "We've known each other since we were kids. Our introduction was part of an experiment in sexual attraction when we were 9 or 10 years old. We were friends back then, we didn't have anyone else our age to talk to or play with. She used to sneak around and wait until I was finished with my sims to seek me out and go exploring. About the time we were both entering puberty, Mr. Parker decided it was time for her to go to boarding school. Looking back on it now it makes sense, back then I was angry and confused.
"The next time I saw her, she was the most stunning woman I had ever seen in my life. Unfortunately by then, the Centre had gotten its pernicious claws into her. She was cold, angry and hateful, desperate to do almost anything, no matter how despicable, to gain her father's affection. I was transformed in her eyes from a friend into a Centre drone, something to be despised, hated and dismissed.
"When I found out she was on the pursuit team, I did everything I could to remind her of what she used to be, what her mother wanted her to be, what I knew was inside of her. I can't let go of what used to be between us when we were kids."
The Major listened to his son with growing sadness. He suspected by the time Miss Parker had been shipped away to boarding school the children had formed a bond which the onset of puberty had added a new dimension. The bastards left Jarod with all his unresolved feelings, probably seeing that as a way to further their control of his emotions. For both, the Centre destroyed the first and most important connection either child had made outside of the immediate family. For the girl, they used the situation, no doubt to manipulate and exploit her emotions by pumping her full of lies about her first love; turning the relationship against her thereby molding her into the perfect operative. In that moment the Major resolved in addition to spending every moment with his family, he would find a way to exact his revenge on the Centre.
"I think I see the situation a bit more clearly now, though I doubt anyone could truly understand what you're feeling," the Major said quietly.
"What do you plan on doing with her? Like you said, she is still a Centre operative. Once she wakes up, she will probably be a handful," Jarod asked turning his inquisitive eyes on his father. "Why did you knock her out and bring her along?"
"I didn't mean for her to hit her head, I only wanted to stop her. She saved my life three times by killing the sweepers I kept running into. I'm curious about her motives but it doesn't take away from the fact that she could have stepped aside and let the sweepers do the dirty work and take the credit for it.
"After she killed the third sweeper, I tried to get her to follow me to the truck. When she insisted on returning, I tackled her and she hit her head on a rock," the Major shrugged with a half smile. "She owes me an answer and I owe her my life."
Easily rising to his feet, Jarod held his hand down to help his father up. Brushing the dust and dirt from their clothing, Jarod said, "it's my turn to drive. I think it would be best if we duct-tape her hands together, just in case she wakes up before we get home."
"Yeah, that nasty temper of hers. Okay, let me take care of that." Tossing Jarod the truck's keys he continued, "I'll keep a close eye on her and while I'm doing that I'll work on dreaming up a way to explain this to your mother."
Jarod's amused laughter was all the answer he gave his father.
The following morning
Biotech Research Facility—Pennsylvania
The Centre
"Sir, preliminary reports show all three of the inception labs as a total loss. Nothing could be salvaged. The holding unit used to store Jarod's genetic and seminal material has been obliterated," the Assistant Researcher told the extremely unhappy Chairman.
"What is the condition of the backup file room?" Raines asked impatiently. His heavy breathing was disconcerting the researcher.
"That too was a main target. As far as our demolitions expert can determine, a quarter brick of C4 was attached to an incendiary device. Anything that was stored in the room before is gone now. The good news is very few people were killed and only one was seriously hurt. A security guard thought he saw the perpetrator but he is suffering from a concussion." The researcher thought he should add this tidbit of information since the question of injury to any of the staff or test subjects had been overlooked.
"This breach is completely unacceptable! Where is Miss Parker, has she coordinated a recovery team to retrieve the bomber?" Raines asked as his face slowly turned scarlet in his anger.
"None of us have seen Miss Parker. Umm, sir, I regret to inform you that it is presumed she was one of the fatalities," the Assistant Researcher answered apprehensively.
The cold, dead eyes of the Chairman stared back at the timid researcher and he felt compelled to continue his report. "According to our demolitions expert, it appears Miss Parker was standing almost directly in front of one of the incendiary devices when she was killed. Death was instantaneous. All we have been able to recover are some charred, torn and bloody scraps of clothing and apparently we're lucky to have found that."
"Is there anything else for you to report?" Raines asked dispassionately.
"Except for the details about some charges placed in a couple rarely used labs, that just about covers everything."
"Which other labs were attacked?" Raines asked with sudden concern and worry.
"The labs on the west-end of the facility. As I've said, they are rarely used and nothing was supposed to be in them. We were told that they were abandoned so we didn't bother checking them," the researcher said with a feeling of dread. He decided to leave out the small detail that although those labs initially had been as badly damaged as the rest of the targets, there may have been a chance to salvage some of the materials still stored there. However since they were supposed to be in a state of disuse, the fires were allowed to burn unattended and the precious water pressure was used in areas of the facility which had the most use.
"Send a crew over there immediately. I only want cleaners with a security clearance of level 9 or higher to assist in the mop up operations on that side of the complex," Raines said forcefully.
"Yes sir, immediately." With that the researcher hurried off to comply with Raines directions. As he ran, he wondered idly if his passport was up to date.
Saito Academy—1973
Kyoto-fu prefecture, Japan
The crisp and clean air was temporarily filled with the abrupt shouts of the students as they engaged in mock combat. She was just one of three girls at this school and the only gaijin or foreigner there. Her understanding of Japanese was excellent but discouraging. Her exposure to this culture left her with an understanding and a deep sense of homesickness. She missed Sydney and Jarod. She and Jarod would occasionally harass Sydney by switching languages on him. Sydney understood almost all of the European languages but seemed ignorant of any Asian dialects.
Today, like most other days, her sparring partner, Chiyo happily beat her to a pulp. Daddy had dropped her off her saying that she needed to know how to properly take care of herself before he would consider handing her over to any European schoolmistress. Giving her an unusually fake smile, he patted her on the head like she was one of the pets he refused to let her have and turning on his heel, left her in this brutal place.
It was a living nightmare and today to cap things off, the students were ordered to battle valiantly so one of the best would be chosen to be Sensei Otsu's next apprentice. To be chosen was the highest honor both for the school as well as the student. The whole school was gathered in the main hall where the assessment tests were usually held. She hoped that the beloved Sensei wouldn't call on her to spar with Chiyo. Getting beaten up during practice was one thing but to be humiliated in front of the whole school as well as in front of a venerated teacher was going too far in her opinion. Raising her head briefly her eyes found Chiyo staring at her hungrily and arrogantly from across the room. The expression in her sparring partner's eyes said she was going to take special care to do as much damage to this foreigner as she possibly could during the usually short combat.
When their turn came, Parker stood bravely, her courage rising to the challenge. She knew Chiyo could easily beat her but instead of falling like a sack of potatoes without getting up, this time she would rise and do everything in her power to make the task more difficult and hopefully give Chiyo a taste of her own medicine—a healthy dose of humiliation. Their sparring lasted longer than anyone anticipated, Parker simply wouldn't go down and stay down. She had learned enough to protect herself from some of the more brutal strikes Chiyo delivered and the constant beatings made her inured to the pain. By the time the school's head Sensei ended the battle it was clear that Parker's stubbornness had earned her a draw.
Limping back to her place in line, Parker kept a wary eye on Chiyo. She knew by just surviving the past 5 minutes delivered a crushing blow to the proud 13 year-old. The second Parker's eyes wandered to find her place in the crowd of students, Chiyo moved swiftly sweeping Parker's feet from under her. She fell heavily on her already badly bruised shoulder. The cheap shot had amused a few of the students who laughed as Parker landed awkwardly. Seething inside a warm shot of adrenaline coursed through her body and quickly rising to her feet, Parker walked calmly up to Chiyo and hit her squarely in the face, knocking her briefly unconscious. The Sensei of the school was immediately on his feet, upbraiding Parker for her breach of manners—something he failed to do when Chiyo had attacked her. Parker calmly dropped to her battered knees and placing both hands in front of her, bowed and apologized in heavily American-accented Japanese.
Twenty minutes later the school was dismissed so Sensei Otsu could make a decision on which teenager would have the honor of becoming his apprentice.
Out of sight from the young students, the teachers gathered around to discuss the performance of each pupil. The Academy's headmaster thought a few of his older male students were perfect candidates. Each had displayed his superior skill and techniques to unique advantage. The female students were tolerated at best, the school being forced to accept them at the insistence of a very wealthy and influential benefactor. Sensei Otsu listened to their recommendations impassively. He had already chosen the student who most interested him. Quietly he informed them of his choice.
The uproar Sensei Otsu's decision made was deafening in its silence. Of the five teachers 3 were deeply shocked, and the other two nodded sagely, if not a bit gratefully. They exchanged glances knowing that if Sensei Otsu hadn't picked this particular student they would have battled each other for the chance to train such a raw, promising talent who obviously had so much heart.
When the Academy's headmaster retired to his office for a few minutes of solitude, his two staunchest supporters immediately interrupted him. They understood Sensei Otsu's decision but didn't agree with it in the slightest. Speaking quietly in their most persuasive tones, they convinced the headmaster that this was the best thing that could happen to the Academy. The student had been chosen by Sensei's judgment alone; no undue influence had been exerted. In this the school's never-ending giri or duty to the Centre had been temporarily satisfied.
Parker was called into the headmaster's office an hour later. Having messaged her sore muscles and bruised body, she straightened her back like her revered mother had taught her, discreetly knocked on the door and marched intrepidly into the office when beckoned. The headmaster wasted no time in informing Parker that she was the one chosen to be Sensei Otsu's next student. She was flummoxed into muteness, she stared then recalling the customs of the country, diligently bowed and thanked the headmaster.
Fortunately for Parker the headmaster thought too little of her to burden her bruised ego with what he thought of her. Instead he curled his lip derisively and dismissed her; telling her to gather her belongings and wait for Sensei Otsu at the outer gates where he would pick her up. Unbeknownst to her it was tradition for the chosen student to be given a gracious send off. The headmaster's two friends understood his disappointment but in an effort not to estrange Sensei Otsu, they gathered the rest of the student body and carried on with tradition without the headmaster's attendance.
After some stern encouragement, Parker's former classmates waved and wished her good luck. The head student, a generous boy of 17 gave her a small parcel, hastily wrapped in plain brown paper just as she was being helped into the Sensei's limousine. She clutched at the parcel and politely thanked him for the gift.
"Did they give you a proper send-off young American?" Sensei Otsu asked quietly.
"I am not sure what they would consider to be a proper send-off, Sensei," Parker answered truthfully in heavily accented Japanese.
"A wise answer for one so young. Let's hope that your wisdom is as extensive as your bravery," the Sensei answered in heavily accented English.
The Centre
Blue Cove, DE
The funeral for Miss Parker was a solemn affair. An extremely large contingent of the Centre's hierarchy was in attendance. Only three men truly mourned the passing of the lonely woman they all loved in their own way.
Lyle, ever true to his own nature placed a dozen yellow roses on her coffin before moving on when the grim ceremony was finished. The three men remained behind long after the hypocritical masses had left dry-eyed and cynically calculating how long it would take the Centre to choose her replacement.
Sydney stepped forward finally and with an angry swipe, cleared Lyle's flowers off the empty casket. He then tenderly placed his single red rose on top of the expensive casket. When he straightened, Broots stepped forward and placed his red rose next to Syd's, Sam's red rose completed the trio.
They stood over the grave looking at what they all knew was an empty casket. Sydney was the first to break the silence.
"Now the Parker family tradition is finished. A graveyard complete with the Parker family and none of them are in their graves."
"You forgot about Mr. Lyle, he's her twin. I only wish it was his grave we were standing over instead of hers. She deserved better than this," Broots said miserably.
"I wish I had been there to die by her side. This isn't right," Sam concluded with an angry scowl.
"Sam, would you drive us to Miss Parker's house? I would like to see it for the last time before Mr. Lyle has a chance to destroy the last remnants of her memory," Sydney said as he moved towards the Towncar they drove up in.
Parker Residence
Blue Cove, DE
The men entered the house of their friend with a heavy air of loss and sorrow. The home was stuffy from being closed up for so long. Each man wandered through the home looking for a small item or memento that would remind him of the woman who died just days ago.
It was Broots who made the discovery. He found the key and unlocked the door to the room Miss Parker had mentioned to Sydney when she was agonizing about continuing her relationship with Thomas Gates. Inside he found a treasure trove of hidden items that meant so much to Miss Parker. Broots called out, bringing the other two into the room.
Sydney gasped, surprised that Miss Parker had kept all these items. It seemed that every gift Jarod had sent her, which hadn't been turned over to the Centre was squirreled away in this room. The large picture of Parker when she was 9 or 10 in the grips of agonizing grief at the death of her mother was leaning in one corner with a sheet of clear plastic protecting it. Leaning against it was a smaller stained glass picture of Miss Parker with the heart missing. Sydney bent down and retrieved the stained glass picture he knew Jarod had made for her. It engendered the personalities of two people he cared so much about.
When Sydney looked up, he noticed that he was alone in the room. After carefully looking at every item, he left closing and locking the door behind him. Pocketing the key, he walked into the living room to see Broots coming out of the bathroom carrying out an article of clothing.
"Sydney, what does this logo say?" Broots held up a large gray sweatshirt with dark blue Greek lettering across the front.
Reading the words, Sydney began to laugh. Shaking his head he looked at Broots and still smiling fondly replied, "It says, 'it's all Greek to me'."
Broots shared the laugh with Sydney and gently wrapped a silver hairbrush with long dark hair still caught up in the bristles, within the folds of the fragrant shirt. Looking consciously at Sydney he said, "Debbie will love the hairbrush and she'll probably wear the sweatshirt till it's in tatters."
"Yeah, that is if you even allow her to touch it. I saw you fish that out of the dirty clothes hamper," Sam said with a small smile.
"It wasn't in the hamper, it was sitting on top. Like she was ready to wear it again before washing it."
"What about you Sam? Were you able to find something to remind you of Parker?" Sydney asked.
Reaching behind him, Sam retrieved a silver 9mm. It was Parker's back-up weapon, the one she always kept at home. Nodding his satisfaction, Sydney spotted the memento he wanted to keep; he picked up the silver framed picture of Catherine Parker holding the infant Miss Parker in her arms. Together the three men left the home for the last time.