Balancing The Scales - Part 7
by MMB
Sydney tossed the cab driver an assortment of bills from his wallet, then hurried up his walk and through his front door in search of Miss Parker. The sound of low voices led him into his living room, where Sam stood concerned and hovering behind the couch as Jarod sat next to her, holding her close in his arms and speaking with low tones into her ear as she lay against his shoulder.
"Talk to me," he said to Sam simply, turning.
The burly sweeper sighed. "We were walking down the hall, and we saw Lyle with a group of Japanese - including Tommy Tanaka - and he was escorting them into an elevator. Miss Parker got suspicious and curious, and ordered me to lay claim to the DSA of the area camera immediately and bring it to her. Lyle..." He frowned, knowing that Jarod and Miss Parker had both grown silent to listen to his narrative. "Lyle told Tanaka that he could 'get' what he called 'vital elements' of some project and give it to them, in exchange for new employment opportunities."
"Redux." Sydney turned to look at Miss Parker understandingly. She was still leaning heavily into Jarod's shoulder, while his arms encircled her comfortingly and protectively.
"Redux." Sam followed Sydney's glance as he heard her give a shaky whimper and huddle tighter against Jarod, whose arms tightened around her that much more.
"So what now?" The psychiatrist had no intentions of letting this situation continue without pushing for a way answer Lyle's intentions. His chestnut gaze landed on Jarod and seemed to demand the Pretender present a plan to address the event.
"We have no choice - we're going to have to move some of our plans forward," Jarod stated quietly, one hand moving up to cradle Miss Parker's head against his shoulder. "We need to beat Lyle to the punch and make sure that what he delivers to the Tanakas has very little to do with Redux."
"And how are we going to do that?" Sydney demanded quietly.
"We were just getting to that," Sam leaned toward the psychiatrist confidentially. "It's just taken Jarod a while to get Miss Parker calmed down."
"I hate to do this, but there is no other way. You need to go back to the Centre, Syd, and take care of things there yourself."
"Me?!" Sydney was shocked.
Jarod nodded. "I'll give you very specific instructions on where to go and what to take - but we're going to switch cryogenic vials so that what Lyle turns over to the Yakuza is mouse embryos, not human - NOT Redux." Jarod felt rather than heard Miss Parker sigh and her trembling lessened considerably. He bent his head so he was speaking softly into her ear again. "I told you, Parker, I wouldn't let anything happen. I promised - and I keep my promises."
Sydney frowned. "Where are we going to get the mouse embryos, Jarod? And how will you be able to tell?"
Jarod looked at Sydney and jerked his head in the direction of his laptop, which he had brought down and set up on the coffee table. "Check that out," he directed simply.
Sydney moved around the end of the couch and sat down behind Miss Parker and, after smoothing a comforting hand across her back to let her know he was there and was there for her, turned and stared at the computer screen. "What is this?"
"An inventory of freezer #6 in the cryo-lab in which Redux is stored," the Pretender answered, and even Miss Parker lifted her head and turned to look over her shoulder at the computer. Jarod's tight hold on her loosened to allow her to see better. "See? Each vial is numbered, and this inventory cross-references vial number and contents." A finger designated a specific line of data. "There's Redux - the HS in front of the number stands for homo sapiens. Human. There's only one vial in the entire lab with HS in front of it; and I double-checked with the data I retrieved from Raines, and that's the number in the reports that corresponds to Redux.
"Now THAT," the finger moved a couple of lines down, "is a vial of laboratory rat embryos - the RN in front of the number stands for rattus norvegicus. Lab rat. They keep a ready supply of these embryos for genetics and medical research. The vial numbers are imprinted on the seals of the vials, so they can be read from the top within the freezer carrel. They should be able to be switched easily. Then you just hold out the HS vial when you close the freezer and put it in a Styrofoam carrier instead, slip the carrier into your pocket, and get the hell outta there."
"Your plan sounds simple," Sydney commented with a nod. "But I take it that it may be more difficult than that sounds?"
"There are a lot of variables that I have no way of taking into account within the time frame we have." Jarod took an assessing look at Miss Parker's face again. "The biggest variable being just how soon Lyle is going to want to pick up that vial to deliver to the Tanakas. The optimal time frame for your little errand is NOW - before Lyle gets back from his 'power lunch' with the Yakuza. I'm thinking Sam here should be able to help you take care of anybody else popping in on you while you're busy."
Sydney stroked the side of Miss Parker's head with a gentle hand and then leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Then I'd better get to it," he said firmly, and stood. "The sooner I go, the sooner I can be out of there again. Sam, you're with me."
Jarod grabbed a slip of note paper and jotted the vial number of both the rat and human embryos, as well as the entry code to the lab, and handed it to his former mentor. "Be CAREFUL, Sydney. And keep your eyes open when you go into the cryo-lab. Remember to have gloves on already when you access freezer number 6 - and don't forget to take a Styrofoam single-vial carrier from the shelves near the desk before you open the freezer. They're about the size of a paperback book, and nobody will be the wiser that you have one on you. Just give me a call about ten minutes before you head for cryogenics, so I can set the surveillance camera to a film loop I prepared while waiting for Miss Parker to get here." His face flashed determination. "I taped a nice, quiet, 10 minute loop where nobody was in there at all. All I have to do is feed IT to the DSA recording system instead of the live feed."
Sydney nodded with a very tight expression on his face, then nodded to Sam and followed the man from the room. Jarod and Miss Parker could soon hear the sound of Sam's Centre-issue sedan motor starting up, and then growing faint as the car backed down the driveway.
"You gonna be OK?" Jarod asked solicitously, one hand landing gently on an upper arm.
Miss Parker shook her head slowly and as if still in shock. "I won't be OK until Syd's back here, safe and sound, with that vial." Her eyes cleared and glared at him with frightened concern. "He WILL be able to get the vial without getting caught, won't he?"
"Sydney's a resourceful old man who has survived at the Centre for a very long time, Parker," Jarod soothed and pulled her back into his arms for a loose hug. "Remember, he's raided the bodily fluids vault a couple of times already, so this is practically old hat for him. Besides, he has Sam with him to watch his back this time instead of Broots. That's gotta count for something..."
Miss Parker leaned her head on Jarod's shoulder again, grateful for the comfort and support. But her eyes were now focused on the street visible through the sheer curtains on Sydney's front picture window - and she didn't intend to shift her watch until Sam brought Sydney back safely.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Angelo frowned. Something was very, VERY wrong. Daughter was sad, scared. Scared for Sydney, and scared for... It didn't all make sense. And Friend was angry and scared. Scared for Sydney too! The emotions pummeled him powerfully, until he put his hands over his head and swatted them away like tormenting wasps.
Then he was on the move. Sam and Sydney would need his help; and here he was, five levels from where he would need to be when the time came. He could only hope that he could get down there in time to be of some use.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mr. Raines hit the intercom button. "Can you send Mr. Lyle into my office right away?"
"Yes, sir."
While he waited, he re-read the latest report from the de-tox operation on the vagrant women brought into the Centre a week or so ago. Doctors were now reporting that not only were the women finally starting to come out of their withdrawal symptoms. Moreover, the psychotropic drugs that had been administered instead of the narcotics that had bee promised them to lure them into coming with the sweepers had been apparently successful in stifling any independent will. All three of the females would be qualified to serve as a surrogate if needed. All that would remain was for a visual inspection to be made by Tower personnel to determine which seemed the likeliest candidate. The others could then be disposed of in the usual manner, lessening the cost of the operation.
"Mr. Raines, Mr. Lyle's secretary reports that Mr. Lyle informed her that he would be out of the office for the rest of the day." The secretary's voice didn't sound thrilled to have to impart unwelcome news to her boss.
Raines frowned. Lyle had been very quiet during the meeting with the Yakuza representatives, and had been particularly unhappy at the prospect of having to cut the Japanese from the project in the first place. Now, only an hour or so since the meeting at which the Yakuza were cut out of the project, he was coming up missing for not apparent reason. Something wasn't right. He punched the button again. "Have Willy report to me at once."
"Yes, Mr. Raines."
A few minutes later, a knock on his etched glass doors announced the arrival of his personal sweeper. Willy strode confidently into his boss' office and came to a halt at a relaxed form of attention directly ahead of Raines' carved desk. "You sent for me, sir?" the husky black man inquired deferentially, yet with an air of restrained confidence. He had benefited greatly from his position of privilege with Raines, he owed the man complete and unquestioned loyalty and knew he had the ability to carry off anything asked of him.
"I want you to locate Mr. Lyle. Find out what he's up to." Raines drew in an agonized wheeze and nodded at his favorite enforced. "I want to know why he decided to go missing today, and what business it is that he expects to keep him away all day."
"Yes, sir," Willy pushed his chin up proudly. "Anything else?"
The bald man's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yes. When you've finished on your report of Lyle's activities today, I want you to dig up the records of the previous dealings the Centre has had with the Tanaka branch of the Yakuza. I want to know who those men with Tanaka were, and what their position within the organization is."
"I'll get right on it," Willy affirmed and turned crisply on his heel and exited the office with minimal fuss.
Raines returned to his perusal of the medical report on the three women. Of all the times for Lyle to pull a disappearing act, today was probably the worst. There was nobody close to him that was better at judging human flesh - for a number of purposes. Raines shuddered. He had no doubt what would happen to the two rejects.
He just didn't want to know about it - not officially, at any rate...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney didn't normally make many trips to sublevel 13, and he had stopped in his Sim Lab to check first on his project and then grabbed up a clipboard to make his visit look more official and routine after calling Jarod to start the 10 minute clock. Sam kept pace a step or so behind him, as was standard procedure. The corridor outside the cryo-lab door was sparsely populated, mostly by completely immersed and preoccupied researchers of one flavor or another.
The psychiatrist punched in the entry code Jarod had given him almost ten minutes to the second from when he'd called home. Beyond the laboratory door, the room was only dimly lit. The moment he saw the security camera's little red light flick off, he pushed through the door with Sam following on his heel. The sweeper stationed himself out of sight to the side of the door to deal with any interlopers that might barge through while Sydney immediately headed to the supply shelves where the gloves and Styrofoam carriers were stored.
Gloves on, Sydney walked past the bulking freezer cases until he came to the one with #6 painted in dark paint on the shiny aluminum side. He spun the locking mechanism and pulled the lid up and pressed the button that lifted the carrel of vials out of the frosty depths. He consulted the paper Jarod had given him again, and removed the HS-247 vial and then the RN-8346 vial and carried them over to a work bench. Moving as quickly as he could with the bulky and clumsy gloves, he removed the seal on the HS 247 vial and set it aside in a stand, then removed the other seal and put it on the first vial. After replacing the seal on the second vial, he carried it immediately back to the freezer and put it in the carrel in the exact spot the original had been in and closed the freezer down. He returned to the bench, quickly resealed the first vial, and slipped it into carrier, which he then deposited in his inner breast pocket after shedding the gloves.
"Let's go," he murmured to Sam, who then looked both ways as he prepared to open the door, then allowed the psychiatrist to again lead him out the door and down the corridor toward the elevator.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lyle was angry, and he was humiliated, and he was ready to shoot Willy in the knee for disrupting his luncheon but knew better. The black sweeper had found him and his companions at a local steak house in the midst of a robust meal of a kind the Japanese seemed to particularly fancy. He had been obliged to cut his discussion of employment compensation short and leave his own meal only half-eaten to accompany the sweeper back to the Centre with very little explanation.
"Look, what the hell is this all about?" the younger Parker insisted as he rode nervously in the back seat of a Centre town car with Raines' personal goon sitting right next to him.
"Mr. Raines has a job for you that can't wait," Willy informed him briefly, deciding it wasn't his job to play nursemaid to a wandering Tower associate. He still had to figure out a way to discover WHAT it was that had had Lyle and the Yakuza talking together so intensely.
"What job?" Lyle insisted in a completely exasperated voice. "What the hell was so important that you had to come disrupt a business lunch where I'm trying to smooth over waters your boss just stirred up badly to drag me back to the Centre?"
Willy regarded Lyle with ebony eyes filled with a disdain and lack of anything approaching what the younger Parker would consider proper respect. "My job," he announced archly, "was to bring you back to the Centre. I do my job, I don't ask questions I've not been ordered to ask."
Lyle slumped back against the car seat, totally unsatisfied and fully aware that when Willy put his back up, there was little anybody could do to remedy the situation without a word from Raines himself. He leaned an elbow against the car door and planted his chin in his palm to stare out the window, running over the particulars of his conversation with Tanaka and his associates and making note of the point at which the discussion had been interrupted so he could continue with it later on that day, if he was lucky. He wasn't sure how long Tanaka and associates would be in the States, and needed to make as much of the available time as possible.
Willy kept Lyle very firmly tucked into custody, not letting him walk through Centre corridors or into the elevator without what was virtually an armed escort, only stopping shy of Raines' office.
"Where were you?" the balding old man wheezed angrily.
"Calming waters that you made damned dangerous for us both," Lyle snapped in return. "Doing my job. Now what the hell..."
"I want you to go down to de-tox and make the final selection of the surrogate candidate," Raines interrupted his younger associate with a choking gasp of air. "With our funding for this project now limited, we don't need to extend any unnecessary cost factors. Pick the surrogate and then see to getting rid of the excess baggage."
Lyle's eyes began to sparkle. At least if he had to be dragged back to the Centre, it was for the kind of action he loved - in more ways than one. "Any particular means of disposal you had in mind?"
"No." Raines couldn't meet the younger man's gaze. "I trust you to not screw this up if I let you just take care of the details. I hope my trust isn't poorly placed."
"You could have at least let me finish lunch," Lyle chanced, figuring that he would make at least one attempt to define some personal boundaries within his Centre-related duties.
That brought Raines' attention back up. "You work for the Centre, remember?" he gasped with narrowed gaze. "The Yakuza are not your concern."
"I brought them into the deal," Lyle reminded his superior with a flash of anger. "What you did this morning not only reflects badly on the Centre, but it reflects badly on ME."
Raines waved a dismissing hand. "Whatever. Concentrate on your Centre-related business now - and get down to that de-tox center."
Lyle snorted a disgusted sigh and turned on his heel to stalk through the glass doors, flinging them open in a visible fit of pique. He turned a withering eye on the tall, black sweeper who had learned that when Lyle was being disciplined, it was best to stand out of the way of doors that could shatter and slash if broken. "I suppose your job includes an escort down to SL-13, right?"
"No, sir," Willy blinked as if amazed at the presumption. "I have other duties for Mr. Raines that I will be starting now."
Lyle merely turned on a heel and walked off in the direction of the elevator. The only positive thing about this whole development was the idea that he was being given carte blanche when it came to means of disposal of the unnecessary women. That thought actually began to draw the corners of his mouth upwards. It had been a while since last he had gone hunting for himself. Disposal might deprive him of the thrill of the selection and stalking process, but then the terror and the exhilaration of the kill itself were still possible.
The day wouldn't be a total wash, at least. And he could still get in contact with Tanaka to finish his discussion.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Angelo allowed himself to slip quickly down the last steep incline of his five-story trek, then crouched and took stock of his bearings. Not far now. Not long now.
He had to be in place before the Bad Man could see Sydney and Sam. What he would do when he got there was another problem for another time. First and foremost was being where he needed to be in the little time left.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney had his clipboard up and was, to all appearances, as engrossed in what was written on the paper it held as he was in watching his step as he walked down the corridor with Sam a stern and protective pace behind him. There was a practiced movement, almost dance-like, that the Centre researchers on this level practiced when moving between labs and/or offices, one that Sydney himself was quite familiar with. The absent-minded slalom between center of hallway and toward the right wall was easy to parrot deliberately.
The corridor ended, and Sydney and Sam went to make the right-hand turn that would take them directly to the elevator. Then Sam looked beyond them to the sliding door of the vehicle, which was sliding open, and his hand landed heavily on Sydney's shoulder as through that door came Mr. Lyle.
Sydney looked up and back in surprise, then forward quickly, then turned on his heel and with Sam following him, headed off in the opposite direction, passing the entrance to the corridor they had just exited and toward the level offices. They would have continued on and hopefully ducked into the nearest unoccupied cubicle, but for the eruption of shouting behind them.
"Angelo," Sydney breathed in dread, identifying the voice yelling the loudest, and then turned and with a hand in Sam's chest shoved the sweeper to a stop and urged yet another reversal of direction. "We can't just leave him..."
Sam's dark eyes were conflicted briefly while he weighed the importance of getting the aging psychiatrist and his precious stolen vial out and away from the Centre safely against protecting the safety of another Centre inmate who had come to be a friend. The sweeper sighed and then turned to follow Sydney's instructions.
Angelo had burst through an air vent grill halfway between the lab corridor and the elevator and had clambered down the wall, and was now running towards the elevator screaming "Bad Man! Must protect her!"
Sydney gave Sam a shove. "Get him under control before he gets hurt!" he hissed urgently.
Sam nodded and immediately burst into a run. "Angelo!" he shouted loudly as he saw other sweepers assigned to maintain security on this sub-level beginning to move, and move their hands toward their shoulder holsters nervously.
Angelo turned at the sound of Sam's voice behind him, and he frowned. No! He was supposed to take Sydney to safety - not let Sydney talk him into... "Not hurt!" he yelled at the top of his voice and, without warning, sprang at Lyle with hands outstretched and definitely aimed at the man's neck.
That did it. The level sweepers had their guns out of their holsters immediately even as Lyle fell back a step or two in amazement and suspicion.
"NO!!!" Sydney howled ineffectively as two guns erupted simultaneously, then spun around as something white-hot and violent shoved agonizingly at his lower ribcage. He didn't see that Angelo had dropped in mid-stride until he himself had gained the wall of the hallway and could do something more than just focus on not collapsing.
Sam skidded to a halt next to Angelo, who lay crumpled on the floor. After glaring up at his fellow sweepers, who were standing with their guns still trained on the fallen empath, he squatted down and put a practiced hand to see whether a pulse still throbbed in the injured man's neck. Angelo's grey-blue eyes opened at the touch. "Sydney... hurt..." he managed to whisper in a voice only Sam could hear clearly, those grey-blue orbs struggling desperately to communicate his concerns. "Help... Daughter..."
"You two - get him to Renewal NOW," Lyle ordered imperiously, finally having gotten his own shock in control and not wanting his sister's sweeper to take charge of the situation while HE was around. The younger Parker looked around at the stunned and frightened faces of the researchers, many of whom where rubber-necking out of previously closed office and laboratory doors. "Show's over, folks - get back to work!"
He shot Sam a glare that dismissed the man where he crouched, then watched with an angry expression as the two nameless sweepers manhandled Angelo erect and dragged him between them off in the direction of the elevator. Lyle shook his head. He really should talk to Raines about getting rid of that psychotic excuse for a man - his disjointed ramblings had rarely proven to have any practical use for years. Oh yes... he had come here for a reason...
Lyle turned down the laboratory corridor without another word, leaving the rubber-necking workers still slowly withdrawing their heads back into their respective spaces.
Sam rose to his feet, not at all surprised to find himself shaking on the inside. He hadn't seen exactly where the bullets had ripped into the empath, but there was already plenty of blood pooled on the floor where he had lain for those few moments. He looked back at Sydney, then moved quickly to the older man'' side when he noted how pale he was.
"Get me out of here," Sydney whispered raggedly, pulling his hand away from his lower left ribcage and showing the sweeper that it was covered with blood.
"Damn!" Sam swore with an explosive breath and, with a deceptively escorting hand beneath the older man's elbow helped him begin to move slowly and surely toward the elevator. His heart was heavy, however; he knew the events of the last few minutes would be far-reaching and painful for all of them. And Miss Parker, seeing the state Sydney was in and then hearing about Angelo, was sure to be beside herself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod looked up from his typing into his laptop for what felt like the hundredth time to gaze with worry and understanding at the woman who hadn't moved from her post all afternoon. Miss Parker had, eventually, moved her sentry's post from the couch halfway across the room from the front picture window to the leather armchair to one side. She had curled her feet under her and pulled into a small, tight, silent ball and then remained in that position. She had glanced up in gratitude when he had brought her some hot chocolate an hour or so earlier, but had only sipped half-heartedly at it for a bit before putting it down on the round lamp table next to her to resume her watch.
"He'll be alright," he reassured her again.
This time, however, she didn't nod slowly, as she had the many other times he'd tried to comfort her. Her face had grown tight, pained. "Something's gone wrong," she announced softly in a voice filled with dread.
Jarod's brow wrinkled. He'd been around her half-brother Ethan long enough, and heard the young man make pronouncements like that from out of thin air that turned out to be true far too often to discount the voices so easily. "What?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know.
"They're here!" she stated, unfolded herself from her chair and was moving toward the connecting door to the garage without wasting a moment. Jarod blinked at her, not having seen the car coming, and then followed her.
Sydney was through the kitchen door first, and Sam was directly behind him, supporting him so that he could remain erect and moving still. The older man looked dreadful, his face was pasty-pale and the blood from his wound had finally soaked halfway down the trouser leg. Still, his tired chestnut eyes sought out Miss Parker immediately. He reached into his jacket breast pocket and drew out the slim white Styrofoam carrier and extended it past her to Jarod's nearly numb waiting palm.
"Catch him!" Miss Parker yelled as he finally came to the end of the nervous energy that had been moving him, and he began to crumple in place. "Sydney!"
Sam caught his boss' old friend quickly under the arms. "Jarod, I hope Sydney's trust in your remembering your medical training is well-founded," the sweeper informed them as he lifted the psychiatrist in his arms like a large child. "He's been shot," he told Miss Parker in a voice that shimmered with apology, then turned.
Then Jarod's other arm shot out to catch a sagging Miss Parker as she was staggered back by the implications. "Sydney..." she whispered, watching Sam carry her surrogate father towards the front of the house and the stairs.
"C'mon, Parker, we have to be strong for Sydney right now," the Pretender squeezed his arm around her waist, then reached around her front and grasped one of her hands. "Take this and put it in the freezer while I go upstairs and tend to Sydney." He deposited the little white Styrofoam carrier in her hand and then, after making sure she had recovered enough for him to leave her alone, headed for the stairs at a dead run.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney struggled against the fog in his mind, then finally pushed his way through so that his eyes could open again. He blinked twice and realized that the dimness wasn't his vision - it really was late enough that there was very little light coming through his bedroom window.
He heard stirring at his side, and then the edge of the bed dipped as someone sat down next to him. "Nice of you to join us again," Miss Parker said gently, running the backs of her fingers across his slightly bristled cheek in a gentle caress as some of the worried frown faded from her own face. He went to shift positions on the bed to get a bit more comfortable, then caught his breath at the stabbing pain in his side as he moved. Her hands landed gently on his shoulders and held him still against his pillows. "Don't move," she ordered briskly. "You don't want to pull out your stitches and start bleeding again. You were lucky - Jarod said the bullet went completely through without doing serious damage."
"Angelo?" he asked, his voice weak and rough-sounding.
She shook her head sadly. "We don't know anything there yet. Sam took off back to the Centre right after he got you up here, and we haven't heard back from him. He may wait until after the end of his shift, so as not to draw attention to himself." She sighed and smoothed her hand across his forehead. "You weren't supposed to try to play the hero, Syd..."
"I just... didn't think they'd..."
"You're slipping," she chided him fondly, leaning forward to drop a loving kiss on the same cheek she'd been stroking. "You knew damn well that they would - in a drop-dead heart-beat. Angelo knew too. He was banking on it."
Sydney opened pain-filled chestnut eyes to stare at her. "What?"
Miss Parker nodded. "Jarod simmed out the situation from the details of Sam's report. He figures that Angelo felt that he needed to provide a diversion to cover for your presence on SL-13. He drew attention to himself to keep that same attention away from YOU. Especially with Lyle walking down the hallway right at you."
"But Sam and I had already gotten out of Lyle's way..."
"I know," she soothed at him, taking hold of one hand and holding it tightly. "Angelo was just making sure your exit was covered completely."
"Damn!" Sydney's eyes slammed shut as he struggled with his emotions. "What now?" he managed finally, his voice gruff with stifled tears and frustration.
"We stick to our schedule," she answered quietly. "The only change is that YOU have supposedly come down with the 'flu and are stuck in bed for the rest of the week." Miss Parker nodded again as she saw his eyes fly open again in concern. "Debbie will be taking care of you for the most part during the day - in case sweepers decide to visit and see for themselves whether or not you're really laid up. She's out of school right now anyway, and considering the family ties we've developed over the years, her pitching in like that could be expected. And Jarod's moving to my place tonight, as soon as he's made sure you're stable enough to leave by yourself for the evening. He wants to make sure that anybody checking up on you won't find HIM in the process."
"But..."
"But nothing. My couch is comfortable, and Davy is thrilled to have his father in the house. He'd be as safe at my place as he would be here, and you know it - so end of discussion." She smiled down at him again in an attempt to allay concerns. "He'll start feeding the Triumverate clues about Raines' and Lyle's activities tomorrow morning through his anonymous Internet connects, as we planned. He figures that he'll have given them the worst of the smoking-gun evidence by Thursday, so the most likely scenario is for all hell to break loose sometime late Friday evening. We pick up Shadow as arranged on Thursday night. And then Friday after work ends, you, Sam, Shadow and the kids head off to White Cloud as planned."
Her grey eyes darkened with worry. "And if he can make it, Angelo will go with you - but otherwise, we're hoping that he'll be safe in Renewal until the job's finished. His escape route from the Centre had required him to be independently mobile - and that just may not be possible anymore."
Sydney looked up at her apprehensively. "What about you?"
"Broots, Jarod and I have to stay here. We'll coordinate the conclusion of our take-down from my house and from within the Centre itself. For what its worth, my part," she smiled grimly, "is to see to it that the Tanakas get what's coming to THEM, too." She shrugged at the startled look on Syd's face. "They knew what they were buying into, Sydney. They knew what Lyle was offering to steal for them. They're no better than Raines or Lyle. The world needs protection from THEM too."
"Just so you don't lose YOUR thumb," Sydney grumbled. "This is the Yakuza you're taking on, you know..."
Miss Parker leaned forward and kissed his forehead again before rising. "I know what I'm doing, Syd. Don't worry about me. Let me get Jarod, now. He can check you out and see how you're doing so we can get this show on the road."
"Parker..." Sydney's eyes communicated his worry and fondness.
"Shhhhh.... You rest now. No more heroics from you - understood?" She reached out and took a hand and squeezed it hard to show the emotions were returned in kind. "It's MY turn now."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Daddy, is Grandpa going to be OK?"
Jarod seated himself on the edge of his son's bed. "Your Grandpa will be fine, Davy. He just needs to stay home and stay quiet for a few days - and he needs me out of his hair so he can rest properly."
The little boy's dark eyes studied his father with barely concealed excitement. "Are you really going to stay with us for a while now?"
"Yes. Your mother and I agreed."
Davy lay back into his pillows in contentment. "Like a real family. At last."
Jarod knew all too well where his son's mind was taking him - at least on a child's level. "For the time being, at any rate. Until your Grandpa's better," he hedged cautiously.
"But..." The boy's voice sounded confused. "Don't you love Mommy?" Those dark eyes held no guile, but were suddenly hard for the Pretender to face fully.
"Of course I do, but it just isn't that simple, Davy," Jarod explained, feeling almost as awkward now as he had the night he and Miss Parker had informed the lad that they really WERE his parents. "Your mother and I..."
"And doesn't she love you too?" Davy's dark gaze bore holes in his father's soul. "Her face goes all mushy when she talks about you sometimes."
Jarod smiled suddenly, the idea of Parker getting soft toward him touching him more deeply than he'd imagined possible. "We've been best friends for a very long time, Davy. Sometimes best friends just stay best friends, you know... They love each other as friends, but..."
The little boy's face grew seriously disappointed as he lay looking up at his father. "So this is just a visit, and you'll leave us one of these days?"
"Well, your Grandpa has more room for me at his place, for one thing," Jarod thought fast. "Here I have to sleep on the couch in the living room - while there I have a whole bedroom to myself."
"Mommy has plenty of room in her room, doesn't she? Isn't that the way it's supposed to be with moms and dads?"
"I think we'll just stick to me staying on the couch for the time being," Jarod replied, then leaned forward and gave his son a goodnight kiss on the cheek and rose. Discretion being the better part of valor, he knew he'd best beat a hasty retreat before Davy could think of more difficult questions to ask that he really didn't know how to begin to answer. "Goodnight, son. I'll see you in the morning."
"G'nite, Daddy," Davy answered, "I'm still glad you're here with us at last." He then rolled to his side and pulled the blankets over his shoulder.
Jarod extinguished the overhead bedroom light and closed the door, then walked down the hallway and descended the stairs with a huge yawn.
"I'm making some herb tea, if you want some, Jarod," Parker's voice trailed out and up at him from the kitchen.
"Thanks, that sounds good," he responded and headed in the direction of her voice. He stood in the doorway for a moment watching her fussing over teabags while the teakettle was heating on the stove. "You OK?"
"I am, more or less - I'd be a helluva lot better if Syd weren't laid up with a gunshot wound and my brother... well..." Her words sputtered to a halt, and she glanced back over her shoulder apologetically at him as she worked. "I should just be glad Angelo wasn't killed outright. Things could have gone so much more badly for us..."
"He'll be OK too, you know," Jarod soothed, moving into the kitchen and up behind her as she worked at the stove. "We accomplished something very important today. We stopped them from being able to... to..."
"I know," she nodded, glad he couldn't see her face at the moment. "I just can't get over all that pain and grief for one little vial of tissue."
"Davy came out of that same vial once upon a time, Parker," Jarod reminded her gently. "And don't get me wrong - as much as he is one of the best things to come into my life, I'd like to have a whole lot more say about when I have another child and with whom."
"Don't you think I feel the same way?" she retorted without any heat. "It's just that I can't get over the cost of getting that little vial out of the Centre before any part of it could get used again. Sydney shot, Angelo shot..."
"What we're doing isn't exactly safe for any of us," Jarod turned and leaned against the counter next to her so that he could see her face as she worked. "I believe your words, at the time we first put together this plan of action, were something to the effect that we were 'playing with fire'. You should know as well as any of us that those who play with fire tend to get a little singed around the edges sometimes."
"But this is Sydney we're talking about... Angelo..."
"And Broots, Debbie, Davy, Sam, you, me, Kevin... We're playing for keeps, Parker." He sighed. "And playing for keeps against the Centre tends to do more than singe people." He fell silent and, when she had no response to what they both knew was the truth, watched her continue to putter about preparing their tea for a long moment. "There's something else you and I need to talk about, you know. We have an important decision to make, and not a lot of time to make it in," he told her slowly and softly.
Her hands stilled in their task, and her grey eyes turned slowly to his. "About Redux?" she asked in an equally soft voice.
He nodded. "If we are going to keep the embryos viable, we'll have to get them into better storage and soon. If we don't intend to keep them viable, then we need to be clear about it - within ourselves and with each other."
"If?"
Jarod's gaze was gentle and sad. "If. They are barely even to blastula stage at this point in their development - essentially they're each just little hollow wads of cells. People who use in vitro fertilization to have children often end up with this same problem: what to do with the embryos created that won't be used. Some of them just conveniently forget the extras they created, thinking they can avoid the responsibility for what happens that way. I don't think you and I dare attempt that luxury - not with our genetics." She looked away and back down to where she was putting tea bags into the teapot, but remained silent.
"I don't know how you feel about this," he told her carefully. "It's one thing to prevent the Centre from creating new people from our combined biology without our permission. But these..." He paused. This was harder to express than he had thought it would be. "We need to decide what to do with that vial together, to agree about it, now that WE control what happens to the lives involved."
The teakettle chose that moment to sound off, giving Jarod an opportunity to fall silent and Miss Parker to busy herself with making tea without responding yet. He grabbed up the mugs she had selected from the counter and carried them over to the kitchen table and sat down to wait for her to join him, and watched her expression closely after she'd finally gathered herself together sufficiently to be able to face him.
"What do you want to do?" she asked, carefully keeping her visual attention on pouring the tea into the mugs without spilling it.
"I don't know what I want," he admitted, covering his eyes and rubbing them hard, hoping the action would prevent his tangled emotions from generating tears of frustration that would only confuse matters if seen by Miss Parker. "I honestly don't know how I feel about THEM - the embryos. On the one hand, I'm insulted that they even exist at all; and on the other..."
"I know. They're our own flesh and blood, and they had no part or say in how they came into being," she finished for him, slipping into the chair across the table from him. "Each one of them is another potential Davy, Jarod. And having been a mother to Davy for all these years, it's very hard for me to think of them as anything BUT my - our - unborn children."
As if mirror images of each other, the two each took a sip of tea and then propped their elbows on the table and nestled their chins in an uplifted palm.
"Do you want another child eventually, Parker?" Jarod asked finally, voicing the question that sat at the front of his mind. "And would you want a child that came from that vial?"
Her grey eyes met and held his dark chocolate gaze. "Being a single parent is hard, Jarod, and I didn't even have Davy when he was an infant. I'm willing to raise HIM as a single mother because it's something I've already started and decided to see through - but a new baby would need and deserve both a mother AND a father..."
"...And I have a life elsewhere I intend to go back to one day," Jarod finished for her this time.
"It wouldn't be fair of me to ask you to stay with me JUST so that Davy could have his father close," she continued the thought in a detached tone. "And it would be no more fair of you to ask me to leave Sydney and Broots to go with you for the same reason. As it is, we can't..."
Jarod looked down and spun the mug on the table with a finger absently, then looked up at her. "Do you want another child eventually, Parker? You didn't answer the question..."
"I..." She couldn't meet his gaze any longer, and she too focused her attention on the surface of the tea in her mug. "I would like to know the feeling of a child growing inside me, yes. But not..."
"But not MY child?" he asked very softly. "Not one of THEM?"
Her eyes came up to meet his immediately. "That's not it," she stated in a firm voice. "It has nothing to do with... they're being yours." She took a deep breath and marshaled both her thoughts and her courage. "It wouldn't be fair to ask me to carry your child or any other's without ongoing help and emotional support - and that means I couldn't carry any of those embryos to term if you and I weren't..."
"Emotionally involved and committed?"
She nodded. "And we're not, right now; and you intend to leave again when everything else is settled, remember?"
"But, what if we WERE involved... that way..." he suggested hesitantly.
She looked at him guardedly. "Do you want to be?" she shot back.
He looked down nervously, then back up again. "I don't know. Maybe," he admitted in a small voice. "Do you?"
"I don't know either," she admitted, following his example of looking down nervously and then back up at him again. "I don't think we're at a point that we can even begin to explore... that... yet."
He nodded, not sure whether he felt better or not yet. "So... What do we do about... THEM... in the meanwhile?" His chocolate gaze bore deep into her soul. "Right now they're suspended between living and not living." He reached out a hand, palm up, across the table. "It isn't fair to them to be held in that state indefinitely, neither alive nor..."
"How long do we have to decide?"
"We can delay the matter for a little while with dry ice," he answered with a sigh, "but it's a very expensive and short-term thing, purchased essentially one day at a time - starting tomorrow morning, in fact. If we do nothing, however, then they will just... lose their viability... on their own without any interference from us in relatively short order."
Miss Parker slowly extended her hand out and took Jarod's in hers. "I think... we need to let them go, Jarod." A tear dropped from her lashes to her cheek. "They are little lives that were never meant to be in the first place. We kept them from being horribly exploited - and that is the most important thing. Now we need to see them safely put to rest where nobody can ever harm them again."
"Be sure, Parker," Jarod's hand closed around hers gently. "Just because we're not involved now doesn't necessarily mean we can't become involved eventually - when things calm down." He smiled across the table at her. "I can't say the thought hasn't crossed my mind that you and I..."
She blushed and looked away for a moment. "Jarod, if we're meant to have more children together, there are other more traditional ways of getting them. And," she added, looking at him again, "I can't say I haven't thought about it either. But for now, we need to think about their welfare and not whether you and I... someday... We need to let them go, Jarod - make them safe from any further exploitation by the Centre, the Yakuza, the Triumverate, or anybody else the only one sure way."
"You're right." Jarod looked across the kitchen at the darkness outside the window. "Come with me, then," he said, rising and pulling her to her feet as well. "This needs to be done properly, and I have an idea."
Miss Parker watched as Jarod opened the freezer compartment, searched for a bit and then pulled out the little Styrofoam carrier. He opened it, removed the vial, wrapped it in a tea towel, and then took a large metal spoon from the drawer before reaching out for her hand again. Hand in hand they walked out the back door of the house and into her rose garden. In the moonlight, the white rosebush and its many blooms in the far corner of the garden stood out from the rest; and it was at the base of that bush that Jarod paused and turned to Miss Parker. When she nodded in agreement, he began to dig after handing the towel-covered vial to her to hold while he worked.
He dug a small but deep hole that slanted toward the bush itself, until the base of the hole sat directly under the rosebush. Then he backed away, and Miss Parker moved forward. "Be at peace, little ones," she said softly as Jarod's hand joined hers over the vial, and then she crouched and carefully reached deep into the hole to place the vial at the bottom of it gently. Then she backed away again, and Jarod carefully filled in the hole and tamped the dislodged ground with his hands until, in the dark, it seemed as if nothing had been changed.
He reached for her as he straightened, and she moved quickly into his arms and stood with her arms looped loosely about his waist. Together they grieved for what could not be and for the need to have done what they'd done, leaning on each other as neither had ever been able to lean before. And when the tears were spent, together they walked back into the house and closed and locked the door behind them, exhausted and grief-stricken, but both of them oddly relieved.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lyle looked around the warehouse in the moonlight, listening carefully. The instructions he had found on his home answering machine had been a bit cryptic, but he'd managed to decipher them in time to make the appointment they set up. At least, he hoped so. He'd far rather the Yakuza themselves be late to an appointment they arranged than he show up at the wrong place entirely.
"Lyle-san," came a voice from out of the darkness, and three shadowy figures moved into the dim light.
"Here," Lyle approached the trio immediately, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a thin, Styrofoam carrier. "Here's the remainder of Redux, as promised. Two of the women you helped the Centre round up are sedated and in the back seat of my car, ready for you to take into your custody."
Tanaka snorted and then mumbled something in guttural Japanese. "Tanaka-sama asks what has happened to the third woman," Fujimori's voice came from one of the three shadows, Lyle wasn't sure which.
"She was moved to the Renewal Wing under heavy guard for the insemination procedure before I could make arrangements for her too," Lyle explained patiently. "I figured that getting possession of the remaining embryos yourself, and two relatively healthy and mind-wiped surrogates would make up for the Centre's managing to get its own project started."
There was a muted discussion in Japanese, and Lyle gazed about him with increasing nervousness. Perhaps the setting and the need to appear unaffected by the personally threatening circumstances were a test of his resolve to switch his loyalties to the Yakuza. Such subtle tests of courage and determination were well-known elements of Japanese and Yakuza culture, elements that Lyle was determined to handle with finesse and style. Certainly the arrangements to get both the frosty vial and the sedated women safely out of the Centre on short notice without causing comment had been no small task - one he trusted demonstrated his potential usefulness to Yakuza interests sufficiently to seal his escape clause immediately.
He'd sat in his office after finishing on SL-13 and then checking up on the condition of Mr. Raines' pet freak, Angelo, pondering the benefits of simply 'disposing' of the vagrant women in his usual, adventurous manner and just handing over the frozen vial. It had been a real sacrifice to give up the thrill of the stalking and killing - not to mention the culinary delights that had been in decided short supply lately. But if the sacrifice now meant a new life and hunting grounds in Japan, then it would be worth it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Willy moved ever so slightly so that he could keep a closer eye on Lyle as he approached the three men who had moved only barely out of the shadows. When the younger Parker reached into a pocket and brought out the thin white carrier, Willy knew that he had a fairly decent idea of what was going on.
Mr. Raines had warned him that Lyle had been unhappy with many of his work orders of late. With the evidence standing in front of him, it was obvious that the younger Tower executive was exercising his ability to attempt to switch his loyalties from the Centre, which had sustained and supported him. Even though the Centre had protected him when his outrageous personal habits and lifestyle threatened his own safety and effectiveness as an operative, here he was, pandering to another powerful organization altogether. And with something stolen from the Centre.
This would make for a very interesting report to Mr. Raines, the tall dark sweeper decided with a cold leer in Lyle's direction. Frankly, he hoped that this would be enough for Mr. Raines to issue a final sanction on the slime. He moved the strap to the eavesdropping recorder to a slightly more comfortable spot on his shoulder and checked his aim. It would be best to have as clear a soundtrack as possible, so that Lyle's full treachery could be heard clearly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Tanaka-sama asks if you're sure this is all there is of Redux, other than what has already been used?"
Lyle sighed in frustration. "I told you, that was it. There never was an over-abundant supply of Pretender DNA in storage to begin with, you know - and Mr. Parker only authorized that one collection of DNA from Miss Parker..."
"Just making sure, Lyle-san. You're asking us to take a very great deal on nothing but trust in your word. We want you to be sure that you're very clear on the consequences of passing on misinformation." Fujimori's voice had taken on a slightly sinister tone.
"There was only one vial of human embryos in storage, and that was Redux," Lyle ground out, trying very hard not to get genuinely angry. "You can check the seal on the vial - it indicates homo sapiens. Besides, you saw the printout of the inventory of the freezer I gave you this afternoon at lunch. The number on this vial matches the number assigned to Redux."
A tiny light suddenly blinked into being, aimed at the white carrier which was then opened and examined at length. Tanaka finally looked up and over at the Caucasian in front of them, his face downright devilish-looking in the odd angle of light. He nodded and grumbled something, then closed the carrier and handed it off to one of the other two men at his side. "Very well," Fujimori's voice announced with a tone of finality. "Your terms for this element we had already bought and paid for was security against further threat from the Centre. Unfortunately, we know of only one way to keep you completely safe from the long arm of the Centre."
"I'm ready," Lyle announced with a sigh of relief. They WERE going to accept his employment application after all - and soon he'd be far away from Delaware and Mr. Raines and anything that would remind him of his roots in this god-forsaken organization. He never thought he'd think this, but things had gone seriously downhill since Raines had taken control. He'd be far better off with the Yakuza - especially now that he'd proven his worth to them.
"I doubt it," Fujimori snarled as his arm flipped suddenly forwards and upwards, the nun-chuck that had been carefully hidden against his leg wielded with vicious accuracy and skill to shatter a kneecap with minimal effort or noise.
Lyle screamed in pain and dropped to the ground, his shattered knee clasped to his chest. "Why?!" he yowled in agonized confusion.
"You are a fool if you think that we dare trust anyone who has so little honor as to betray those he works for," Fujimori hissed. "Your Raines-san may be a gutless, lung-less hungry ghost, but you are a ronin - a masterless pig - without any honor at all. You would sell anything, even your honor - if you had ever had any - for your own selfish well-being and security. Yakuza has no place for men with no honor."
"What about our deal?" Lyle sobbed. "I brought you Redux, redeeming your honor and your investment."
"All you redeemed was a quick death for yourself, ronin, rather than the slow and painful one you deserve," Fujimori translated Tanaka-sama's words precisely, and then nodded at the third man shallowly.
With little fanfare, the third man moved quietly behind Lyle and with a quick, circular motion had the garrote around the younger Parker's neck and pulled it tight with a snap. Lyle's body jerked spastically for a time while the assassin pulled steadily upwards on the head until, suddenly, there was no more movement. The body sagged from the garrote limply while the stench of relaxing sphincters filled the area.
"Do we leave the piece of shit here?" Yoshikata asked deferentially as he unwrapped the garrote from the dead man's neck and wound it up properly again to stuff it in the breast pocket of his jacket.
Tanaka thought for a while. "I think not," he decided. "The Centre needs to receive the message that the Yakuza are not to be trifled with - and that those who do face a similar fate." He pointed down. "Take the bastard's other thumb off and stuff it in his mouth. We'll throw the body out at the front gate of the Centre's main facility on our way back to New York. Let that hungry ghost Raines sweat for a while, wondering when we'll come after HIM."
"What about the surveillance sweeper over there in the dark?" Fujimori asked with a note of worry, jerking his head in Willy's direction. "Shouldn't we take care of him too, to send a much louder message?"
"Don't worry about him," Tanaka shook his head confidently, looking out into the dark toward the Centre sweeper confidently and communicating to the hidden man that his presence was no longer a secret. "He'll be part of our message delivery system. Let him tell the story of who took out the ronin, and play back our words for a translator. Raines-san will know, then, that we only wait for a slightly more auspicious moment to make sure the Centre never crosses paths with the Yakuza again. And that his days are numbered as well."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Willy's jaw had dropped the moment he'd seen the one Japanese assassin cripple Lyle with a single blow, and the hand with which he'd continued to hold the eavesdropping recorder had shaken as he'd watched the subsequent quick execution by the second. But when the dimly lit Japanese faces had slowly turned in his direction, telling him in no uncertain terms that his presence and having witnessed everything was known - and that they evidently didn't care - his courage had failed him. As carefully as he could, he'd backed away from the scene and made his way as quietly as possible out of the warehouse and back toward the Centre sedan he'd used to come here.
He needed to get back to the Centre, where he was safe. If he never saw those Yakuza devils again, it would be all too soon!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod rose to a sitting position on the couch for the third time, frowning in frustration because, despite the couch's being quite comfortable, he couldn't seem to fall asleep. The look on Miss Parker's face as they had stood in the rose garden haunted him, as did the idea of what they'd done. He threw back the light blanket she'd given him, rose to his feet and then padded barefoot in his pajama bottoms to the kitchen. The used tea mugs from earlier in the evening sat next to the sink, rinsed but not washed, and he selected the one he'd used, drew some water from the tap and sipped at it while staring out the window.
Soon he felt rather than saw that she'd joined him at the sink. He glanced over at her in the moonlight. Her hair was slightly mussed, as if she'd tossed and turned in bed herself for a while, and her silken pajamas shone in the dim, cold moonlight as soft and graceful drapes against the curves of her body.
"You can't sleep either, huh?" he asked in a very quiet voice, trying to neither startle her nor shatter the peaceful mood.
She shook her head, glanced up at him as if embarrassed, then followed his example and drew a mug of tap water for herself. "It's like being in the eye of a hurricane." She cradled her mug against her chest with both hands. "Everything is all anticipation and dread, but nothing's happening at the moment. I just know, though, that once things get started, all Hell is going to bust loose."
"I know," he responded quietly, then sipped from his mug again.
"Jarod, I..." Miss Parker blushed and shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
"What?" he asked gently.
She looked up into his face and found him gazing at her with indulgent curiosity. "Look, this is going to sound pretty silly, but..."
He shook his head. "Don't worry. What?"
At last she found the courage to look at him directly. "I don't want to be alone. Not tonight." His eyes widened in surprise, and she hastened to add, "I don't mean I want us to... I mean... in case that's what you're thinking. I just..." She looked down, totally embarrassed.
Jarod's touch on her arm was gentle. "...want to feel safe for a little while?" he finished for her, his voice lifting at the end as if asking a question. "No passion, just a little bit of cuddling?"
"Yeah," she sighed in relief that he'd not misunderstood her intent. She looked up at him again. "I need my best friend to just hold me for a while and let me fall asleep feeling safe and warm. Do you mind?"
"No, I don't mind," he replied softly, and his hand on her arm moved up to surround her shoulders and pull her towards him. "I don't mind at all."
With a release of breath, she leaned into him gratefully. Jarod put his mug back on the counter, relieved her of hers and placed it next to his. Then, after she looped an arm around his waist loosely, they walked together slowly up the stairs and down the hall to her room. She left his side to claim her side of the bed and slip beneath the covers. He paused, then moved surely in the moonlight to the other side of the bed and did the same.
She rolled toward him as he settled back into the pillows and rested her head on his shoulder after he'd slipped his arm beneath her neck. She breathed out as she closed her eyes and, with one arm extended across his stomach, slowed her breathing as she fell deeply and contentedly asleep.
Jarod lay for a while, holding her close in his arms and yet again examining his intents and plans. It felt good to be beside her; it felt RIGHT. But did he...
The mental question was never finished, for his eyes closed slowly and his breathing evened out as he too, finally, surrendered to sleep.
Feedback, please: mbumpus_99@hotmail.com
by MMB
Sydney tossed the cab driver an assortment of bills from his wallet, then hurried up his walk and through his front door in search of Miss Parker. The sound of low voices led him into his living room, where Sam stood concerned and hovering behind the couch as Jarod sat next to her, holding her close in his arms and speaking with low tones into her ear as she lay against his shoulder.
"Talk to me," he said to Sam simply, turning.
The burly sweeper sighed. "We were walking down the hall, and we saw Lyle with a group of Japanese - including Tommy Tanaka - and he was escorting them into an elevator. Miss Parker got suspicious and curious, and ordered me to lay claim to the DSA of the area camera immediately and bring it to her. Lyle..." He frowned, knowing that Jarod and Miss Parker had both grown silent to listen to his narrative. "Lyle told Tanaka that he could 'get' what he called 'vital elements' of some project and give it to them, in exchange for new employment opportunities."
"Redux." Sydney turned to look at Miss Parker understandingly. She was still leaning heavily into Jarod's shoulder, while his arms encircled her comfortingly and protectively.
"Redux." Sam followed Sydney's glance as he heard her give a shaky whimper and huddle tighter against Jarod, whose arms tightened around her that much more.
"So what now?" The psychiatrist had no intentions of letting this situation continue without pushing for a way answer Lyle's intentions. His chestnut gaze landed on Jarod and seemed to demand the Pretender present a plan to address the event.
"We have no choice - we're going to have to move some of our plans forward," Jarod stated quietly, one hand moving up to cradle Miss Parker's head against his shoulder. "We need to beat Lyle to the punch and make sure that what he delivers to the Tanakas has very little to do with Redux."
"And how are we going to do that?" Sydney demanded quietly.
"We were just getting to that," Sam leaned toward the psychiatrist confidentially. "It's just taken Jarod a while to get Miss Parker calmed down."
"I hate to do this, but there is no other way. You need to go back to the Centre, Syd, and take care of things there yourself."
"Me?!" Sydney was shocked.
Jarod nodded. "I'll give you very specific instructions on where to go and what to take - but we're going to switch cryogenic vials so that what Lyle turns over to the Yakuza is mouse embryos, not human - NOT Redux." Jarod felt rather than heard Miss Parker sigh and her trembling lessened considerably. He bent his head so he was speaking softly into her ear again. "I told you, Parker, I wouldn't let anything happen. I promised - and I keep my promises."
Sydney frowned. "Where are we going to get the mouse embryos, Jarod? And how will you be able to tell?"
Jarod looked at Sydney and jerked his head in the direction of his laptop, which he had brought down and set up on the coffee table. "Check that out," he directed simply.
Sydney moved around the end of the couch and sat down behind Miss Parker and, after smoothing a comforting hand across her back to let her know he was there and was there for her, turned and stared at the computer screen. "What is this?"
"An inventory of freezer #6 in the cryo-lab in which Redux is stored," the Pretender answered, and even Miss Parker lifted her head and turned to look over her shoulder at the computer. Jarod's tight hold on her loosened to allow her to see better. "See? Each vial is numbered, and this inventory cross-references vial number and contents." A finger designated a specific line of data. "There's Redux - the HS in front of the number stands for homo sapiens. Human. There's only one vial in the entire lab with HS in front of it; and I double-checked with the data I retrieved from Raines, and that's the number in the reports that corresponds to Redux.
"Now THAT," the finger moved a couple of lines down, "is a vial of laboratory rat embryos - the RN in front of the number stands for rattus norvegicus. Lab rat. They keep a ready supply of these embryos for genetics and medical research. The vial numbers are imprinted on the seals of the vials, so they can be read from the top within the freezer carrel. They should be able to be switched easily. Then you just hold out the HS vial when you close the freezer and put it in a Styrofoam carrier instead, slip the carrier into your pocket, and get the hell outta there."
"Your plan sounds simple," Sydney commented with a nod. "But I take it that it may be more difficult than that sounds?"
"There are a lot of variables that I have no way of taking into account within the time frame we have." Jarod took an assessing look at Miss Parker's face again. "The biggest variable being just how soon Lyle is going to want to pick up that vial to deliver to the Tanakas. The optimal time frame for your little errand is NOW - before Lyle gets back from his 'power lunch' with the Yakuza. I'm thinking Sam here should be able to help you take care of anybody else popping in on you while you're busy."
Sydney stroked the side of Miss Parker's head with a gentle hand and then leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Then I'd better get to it," he said firmly, and stood. "The sooner I go, the sooner I can be out of there again. Sam, you're with me."
Jarod grabbed a slip of note paper and jotted the vial number of both the rat and human embryos, as well as the entry code to the lab, and handed it to his former mentor. "Be CAREFUL, Sydney. And keep your eyes open when you go into the cryo-lab. Remember to have gloves on already when you access freezer number 6 - and don't forget to take a Styrofoam single-vial carrier from the shelves near the desk before you open the freezer. They're about the size of a paperback book, and nobody will be the wiser that you have one on you. Just give me a call about ten minutes before you head for cryogenics, so I can set the surveillance camera to a film loop I prepared while waiting for Miss Parker to get here." His face flashed determination. "I taped a nice, quiet, 10 minute loop where nobody was in there at all. All I have to do is feed IT to the DSA recording system instead of the live feed."
Sydney nodded with a very tight expression on his face, then nodded to Sam and followed the man from the room. Jarod and Miss Parker could soon hear the sound of Sam's Centre-issue sedan motor starting up, and then growing faint as the car backed down the driveway.
"You gonna be OK?" Jarod asked solicitously, one hand landing gently on an upper arm.
Miss Parker shook her head slowly and as if still in shock. "I won't be OK until Syd's back here, safe and sound, with that vial." Her eyes cleared and glared at him with frightened concern. "He WILL be able to get the vial without getting caught, won't he?"
"Sydney's a resourceful old man who has survived at the Centre for a very long time, Parker," Jarod soothed and pulled her back into his arms for a loose hug. "Remember, he's raided the bodily fluids vault a couple of times already, so this is practically old hat for him. Besides, he has Sam with him to watch his back this time instead of Broots. That's gotta count for something..."
Miss Parker leaned her head on Jarod's shoulder again, grateful for the comfort and support. But her eyes were now focused on the street visible through the sheer curtains on Sydney's front picture window - and she didn't intend to shift her watch until Sam brought Sydney back safely.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Angelo frowned. Something was very, VERY wrong. Daughter was sad, scared. Scared for Sydney, and scared for... It didn't all make sense. And Friend was angry and scared. Scared for Sydney too! The emotions pummeled him powerfully, until he put his hands over his head and swatted them away like tormenting wasps.
Then he was on the move. Sam and Sydney would need his help; and here he was, five levels from where he would need to be when the time came. He could only hope that he could get down there in time to be of some use.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mr. Raines hit the intercom button. "Can you send Mr. Lyle into my office right away?"
"Yes, sir."
While he waited, he re-read the latest report from the de-tox operation on the vagrant women brought into the Centre a week or so ago. Doctors were now reporting that not only were the women finally starting to come out of their withdrawal symptoms. Moreover, the psychotropic drugs that had been administered instead of the narcotics that had bee promised them to lure them into coming with the sweepers had been apparently successful in stifling any independent will. All three of the females would be qualified to serve as a surrogate if needed. All that would remain was for a visual inspection to be made by Tower personnel to determine which seemed the likeliest candidate. The others could then be disposed of in the usual manner, lessening the cost of the operation.
"Mr. Raines, Mr. Lyle's secretary reports that Mr. Lyle informed her that he would be out of the office for the rest of the day." The secretary's voice didn't sound thrilled to have to impart unwelcome news to her boss.
Raines frowned. Lyle had been very quiet during the meeting with the Yakuza representatives, and had been particularly unhappy at the prospect of having to cut the Japanese from the project in the first place. Now, only an hour or so since the meeting at which the Yakuza were cut out of the project, he was coming up missing for not apparent reason. Something wasn't right. He punched the button again. "Have Willy report to me at once."
"Yes, Mr. Raines."
A few minutes later, a knock on his etched glass doors announced the arrival of his personal sweeper. Willy strode confidently into his boss' office and came to a halt at a relaxed form of attention directly ahead of Raines' carved desk. "You sent for me, sir?" the husky black man inquired deferentially, yet with an air of restrained confidence. He had benefited greatly from his position of privilege with Raines, he owed the man complete and unquestioned loyalty and knew he had the ability to carry off anything asked of him.
"I want you to locate Mr. Lyle. Find out what he's up to." Raines drew in an agonized wheeze and nodded at his favorite enforced. "I want to know why he decided to go missing today, and what business it is that he expects to keep him away all day."
"Yes, sir," Willy pushed his chin up proudly. "Anything else?"
The bald man's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Yes. When you've finished on your report of Lyle's activities today, I want you to dig up the records of the previous dealings the Centre has had with the Tanaka branch of the Yakuza. I want to know who those men with Tanaka were, and what their position within the organization is."
"I'll get right on it," Willy affirmed and turned crisply on his heel and exited the office with minimal fuss.
Raines returned to his perusal of the medical report on the three women. Of all the times for Lyle to pull a disappearing act, today was probably the worst. There was nobody close to him that was better at judging human flesh - for a number of purposes. Raines shuddered. He had no doubt what would happen to the two rejects.
He just didn't want to know about it - not officially, at any rate...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney didn't normally make many trips to sublevel 13, and he had stopped in his Sim Lab to check first on his project and then grabbed up a clipboard to make his visit look more official and routine after calling Jarod to start the 10 minute clock. Sam kept pace a step or so behind him, as was standard procedure. The corridor outside the cryo-lab door was sparsely populated, mostly by completely immersed and preoccupied researchers of one flavor or another.
The psychiatrist punched in the entry code Jarod had given him almost ten minutes to the second from when he'd called home. Beyond the laboratory door, the room was only dimly lit. The moment he saw the security camera's little red light flick off, he pushed through the door with Sam following on his heel. The sweeper stationed himself out of sight to the side of the door to deal with any interlopers that might barge through while Sydney immediately headed to the supply shelves where the gloves and Styrofoam carriers were stored.
Gloves on, Sydney walked past the bulking freezer cases until he came to the one with #6 painted in dark paint on the shiny aluminum side. He spun the locking mechanism and pulled the lid up and pressed the button that lifted the carrel of vials out of the frosty depths. He consulted the paper Jarod had given him again, and removed the HS-247 vial and then the RN-8346 vial and carried them over to a work bench. Moving as quickly as he could with the bulky and clumsy gloves, he removed the seal on the HS 247 vial and set it aside in a stand, then removed the other seal and put it on the first vial. After replacing the seal on the second vial, he carried it immediately back to the freezer and put it in the carrel in the exact spot the original had been in and closed the freezer down. He returned to the bench, quickly resealed the first vial, and slipped it into carrier, which he then deposited in his inner breast pocket after shedding the gloves.
"Let's go," he murmured to Sam, who then looked both ways as he prepared to open the door, then allowed the psychiatrist to again lead him out the door and down the corridor toward the elevator.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lyle was angry, and he was humiliated, and he was ready to shoot Willy in the knee for disrupting his luncheon but knew better. The black sweeper had found him and his companions at a local steak house in the midst of a robust meal of a kind the Japanese seemed to particularly fancy. He had been obliged to cut his discussion of employment compensation short and leave his own meal only half-eaten to accompany the sweeper back to the Centre with very little explanation.
"Look, what the hell is this all about?" the younger Parker insisted as he rode nervously in the back seat of a Centre town car with Raines' personal goon sitting right next to him.
"Mr. Raines has a job for you that can't wait," Willy informed him briefly, deciding it wasn't his job to play nursemaid to a wandering Tower associate. He still had to figure out a way to discover WHAT it was that had had Lyle and the Yakuza talking together so intensely.
"What job?" Lyle insisted in a completely exasperated voice. "What the hell was so important that you had to come disrupt a business lunch where I'm trying to smooth over waters your boss just stirred up badly to drag me back to the Centre?"
Willy regarded Lyle with ebony eyes filled with a disdain and lack of anything approaching what the younger Parker would consider proper respect. "My job," he announced archly, "was to bring you back to the Centre. I do my job, I don't ask questions I've not been ordered to ask."
Lyle slumped back against the car seat, totally unsatisfied and fully aware that when Willy put his back up, there was little anybody could do to remedy the situation without a word from Raines himself. He leaned an elbow against the car door and planted his chin in his palm to stare out the window, running over the particulars of his conversation with Tanaka and his associates and making note of the point at which the discussion had been interrupted so he could continue with it later on that day, if he was lucky. He wasn't sure how long Tanaka and associates would be in the States, and needed to make as much of the available time as possible.
Willy kept Lyle very firmly tucked into custody, not letting him walk through Centre corridors or into the elevator without what was virtually an armed escort, only stopping shy of Raines' office.
"Where were you?" the balding old man wheezed angrily.
"Calming waters that you made damned dangerous for us both," Lyle snapped in return. "Doing my job. Now what the hell..."
"I want you to go down to de-tox and make the final selection of the surrogate candidate," Raines interrupted his younger associate with a choking gasp of air. "With our funding for this project now limited, we don't need to extend any unnecessary cost factors. Pick the surrogate and then see to getting rid of the excess baggage."
Lyle's eyes began to sparkle. At least if he had to be dragged back to the Centre, it was for the kind of action he loved - in more ways than one. "Any particular means of disposal you had in mind?"
"No." Raines couldn't meet the younger man's gaze. "I trust you to not screw this up if I let you just take care of the details. I hope my trust isn't poorly placed."
"You could have at least let me finish lunch," Lyle chanced, figuring that he would make at least one attempt to define some personal boundaries within his Centre-related duties.
That brought Raines' attention back up. "You work for the Centre, remember?" he gasped with narrowed gaze. "The Yakuza are not your concern."
"I brought them into the deal," Lyle reminded his superior with a flash of anger. "What you did this morning not only reflects badly on the Centre, but it reflects badly on ME."
Raines waved a dismissing hand. "Whatever. Concentrate on your Centre-related business now - and get down to that de-tox center."
Lyle snorted a disgusted sigh and turned on his heel to stalk through the glass doors, flinging them open in a visible fit of pique. He turned a withering eye on the tall, black sweeper who had learned that when Lyle was being disciplined, it was best to stand out of the way of doors that could shatter and slash if broken. "I suppose your job includes an escort down to SL-13, right?"
"No, sir," Willy blinked as if amazed at the presumption. "I have other duties for Mr. Raines that I will be starting now."
Lyle merely turned on a heel and walked off in the direction of the elevator. The only positive thing about this whole development was the idea that he was being given carte blanche when it came to means of disposal of the unnecessary women. That thought actually began to draw the corners of his mouth upwards. It had been a while since last he had gone hunting for himself. Disposal might deprive him of the thrill of the selection and stalking process, but then the terror and the exhilaration of the kill itself were still possible.
The day wouldn't be a total wash, at least. And he could still get in contact with Tanaka to finish his discussion.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Angelo allowed himself to slip quickly down the last steep incline of his five-story trek, then crouched and took stock of his bearings. Not far now. Not long now.
He had to be in place before the Bad Man could see Sydney and Sam. What he would do when he got there was another problem for another time. First and foremost was being where he needed to be in the little time left.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney had his clipboard up and was, to all appearances, as engrossed in what was written on the paper it held as he was in watching his step as he walked down the corridor with Sam a stern and protective pace behind him. There was a practiced movement, almost dance-like, that the Centre researchers on this level practiced when moving between labs and/or offices, one that Sydney himself was quite familiar with. The absent-minded slalom between center of hallway and toward the right wall was easy to parrot deliberately.
The corridor ended, and Sydney and Sam went to make the right-hand turn that would take them directly to the elevator. Then Sam looked beyond them to the sliding door of the vehicle, which was sliding open, and his hand landed heavily on Sydney's shoulder as through that door came Mr. Lyle.
Sydney looked up and back in surprise, then forward quickly, then turned on his heel and with Sam following him, headed off in the opposite direction, passing the entrance to the corridor they had just exited and toward the level offices. They would have continued on and hopefully ducked into the nearest unoccupied cubicle, but for the eruption of shouting behind them.
"Angelo," Sydney breathed in dread, identifying the voice yelling the loudest, and then turned and with a hand in Sam's chest shoved the sweeper to a stop and urged yet another reversal of direction. "We can't just leave him..."
Sam's dark eyes were conflicted briefly while he weighed the importance of getting the aging psychiatrist and his precious stolen vial out and away from the Centre safely against protecting the safety of another Centre inmate who had come to be a friend. The sweeper sighed and then turned to follow Sydney's instructions.
Angelo had burst through an air vent grill halfway between the lab corridor and the elevator and had clambered down the wall, and was now running towards the elevator screaming "Bad Man! Must protect her!"
Sydney gave Sam a shove. "Get him under control before he gets hurt!" he hissed urgently.
Sam nodded and immediately burst into a run. "Angelo!" he shouted loudly as he saw other sweepers assigned to maintain security on this sub-level beginning to move, and move their hands toward their shoulder holsters nervously.
Angelo turned at the sound of Sam's voice behind him, and he frowned. No! He was supposed to take Sydney to safety - not let Sydney talk him into... "Not hurt!" he yelled at the top of his voice and, without warning, sprang at Lyle with hands outstretched and definitely aimed at the man's neck.
That did it. The level sweepers had their guns out of their holsters immediately even as Lyle fell back a step or two in amazement and suspicion.
"NO!!!" Sydney howled ineffectively as two guns erupted simultaneously, then spun around as something white-hot and violent shoved agonizingly at his lower ribcage. He didn't see that Angelo had dropped in mid-stride until he himself had gained the wall of the hallway and could do something more than just focus on not collapsing.
Sam skidded to a halt next to Angelo, who lay crumpled on the floor. After glaring up at his fellow sweepers, who were standing with their guns still trained on the fallen empath, he squatted down and put a practiced hand to see whether a pulse still throbbed in the injured man's neck. Angelo's grey-blue eyes opened at the touch. "Sydney... hurt..." he managed to whisper in a voice only Sam could hear clearly, those grey-blue orbs struggling desperately to communicate his concerns. "Help... Daughter..."
"You two - get him to Renewal NOW," Lyle ordered imperiously, finally having gotten his own shock in control and not wanting his sister's sweeper to take charge of the situation while HE was around. The younger Parker looked around at the stunned and frightened faces of the researchers, many of whom where rubber-necking out of previously closed office and laboratory doors. "Show's over, folks - get back to work!"
He shot Sam a glare that dismissed the man where he crouched, then watched with an angry expression as the two nameless sweepers manhandled Angelo erect and dragged him between them off in the direction of the elevator. Lyle shook his head. He really should talk to Raines about getting rid of that psychotic excuse for a man - his disjointed ramblings had rarely proven to have any practical use for years. Oh yes... he had come here for a reason...
Lyle turned down the laboratory corridor without another word, leaving the rubber-necking workers still slowly withdrawing their heads back into their respective spaces.
Sam rose to his feet, not at all surprised to find himself shaking on the inside. He hadn't seen exactly where the bullets had ripped into the empath, but there was already plenty of blood pooled on the floor where he had lain for those few moments. He looked back at Sydney, then moved quickly to the older man'' side when he noted how pale he was.
"Get me out of here," Sydney whispered raggedly, pulling his hand away from his lower left ribcage and showing the sweeper that it was covered with blood.
"Damn!" Sam swore with an explosive breath and, with a deceptively escorting hand beneath the older man's elbow helped him begin to move slowly and surely toward the elevator. His heart was heavy, however; he knew the events of the last few minutes would be far-reaching and painful for all of them. And Miss Parker, seeing the state Sydney was in and then hearing about Angelo, was sure to be beside herself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod looked up from his typing into his laptop for what felt like the hundredth time to gaze with worry and understanding at the woman who hadn't moved from her post all afternoon. Miss Parker had, eventually, moved her sentry's post from the couch halfway across the room from the front picture window to the leather armchair to one side. She had curled her feet under her and pulled into a small, tight, silent ball and then remained in that position. She had glanced up in gratitude when he had brought her some hot chocolate an hour or so earlier, but had only sipped half-heartedly at it for a bit before putting it down on the round lamp table next to her to resume her watch.
"He'll be alright," he reassured her again.
This time, however, she didn't nod slowly, as she had the many other times he'd tried to comfort her. Her face had grown tight, pained. "Something's gone wrong," she announced softly in a voice filled with dread.
Jarod's brow wrinkled. He'd been around her half-brother Ethan long enough, and heard the young man make pronouncements like that from out of thin air that turned out to be true far too often to discount the voices so easily. "What?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know.
"They're here!" she stated, unfolded herself from her chair and was moving toward the connecting door to the garage without wasting a moment. Jarod blinked at her, not having seen the car coming, and then followed her.
Sydney was through the kitchen door first, and Sam was directly behind him, supporting him so that he could remain erect and moving still. The older man looked dreadful, his face was pasty-pale and the blood from his wound had finally soaked halfway down the trouser leg. Still, his tired chestnut eyes sought out Miss Parker immediately. He reached into his jacket breast pocket and drew out the slim white Styrofoam carrier and extended it past her to Jarod's nearly numb waiting palm.
"Catch him!" Miss Parker yelled as he finally came to the end of the nervous energy that had been moving him, and he began to crumple in place. "Sydney!"
Sam caught his boss' old friend quickly under the arms. "Jarod, I hope Sydney's trust in your remembering your medical training is well-founded," the sweeper informed them as he lifted the psychiatrist in his arms like a large child. "He's been shot," he told Miss Parker in a voice that shimmered with apology, then turned.
Then Jarod's other arm shot out to catch a sagging Miss Parker as she was staggered back by the implications. "Sydney..." she whispered, watching Sam carry her surrogate father towards the front of the house and the stairs.
"C'mon, Parker, we have to be strong for Sydney right now," the Pretender squeezed his arm around her waist, then reached around her front and grasped one of her hands. "Take this and put it in the freezer while I go upstairs and tend to Sydney." He deposited the little white Styrofoam carrier in her hand and then, after making sure she had recovered enough for him to leave her alone, headed for the stairs at a dead run.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney struggled against the fog in his mind, then finally pushed his way through so that his eyes could open again. He blinked twice and realized that the dimness wasn't his vision - it really was late enough that there was very little light coming through his bedroom window.
He heard stirring at his side, and then the edge of the bed dipped as someone sat down next to him. "Nice of you to join us again," Miss Parker said gently, running the backs of her fingers across his slightly bristled cheek in a gentle caress as some of the worried frown faded from her own face. He went to shift positions on the bed to get a bit more comfortable, then caught his breath at the stabbing pain in his side as he moved. Her hands landed gently on his shoulders and held him still against his pillows. "Don't move," she ordered briskly. "You don't want to pull out your stitches and start bleeding again. You were lucky - Jarod said the bullet went completely through without doing serious damage."
"Angelo?" he asked, his voice weak and rough-sounding.
She shook her head sadly. "We don't know anything there yet. Sam took off back to the Centre right after he got you up here, and we haven't heard back from him. He may wait until after the end of his shift, so as not to draw attention to himself." She sighed and smoothed her hand across his forehead. "You weren't supposed to try to play the hero, Syd..."
"I just... didn't think they'd..."
"You're slipping," she chided him fondly, leaning forward to drop a loving kiss on the same cheek she'd been stroking. "You knew damn well that they would - in a drop-dead heart-beat. Angelo knew too. He was banking on it."
Sydney opened pain-filled chestnut eyes to stare at her. "What?"
Miss Parker nodded. "Jarod simmed out the situation from the details of Sam's report. He figures that Angelo felt that he needed to provide a diversion to cover for your presence on SL-13. He drew attention to himself to keep that same attention away from YOU. Especially with Lyle walking down the hallway right at you."
"But Sam and I had already gotten out of Lyle's way..."
"I know," she soothed at him, taking hold of one hand and holding it tightly. "Angelo was just making sure your exit was covered completely."
"Damn!" Sydney's eyes slammed shut as he struggled with his emotions. "What now?" he managed finally, his voice gruff with stifled tears and frustration.
"We stick to our schedule," she answered quietly. "The only change is that YOU have supposedly come down with the 'flu and are stuck in bed for the rest of the week." Miss Parker nodded again as she saw his eyes fly open again in concern. "Debbie will be taking care of you for the most part during the day - in case sweepers decide to visit and see for themselves whether or not you're really laid up. She's out of school right now anyway, and considering the family ties we've developed over the years, her pitching in like that could be expected. And Jarod's moving to my place tonight, as soon as he's made sure you're stable enough to leave by yourself for the evening. He wants to make sure that anybody checking up on you won't find HIM in the process."
"But..."
"But nothing. My couch is comfortable, and Davy is thrilled to have his father in the house. He'd be as safe at my place as he would be here, and you know it - so end of discussion." She smiled down at him again in an attempt to allay concerns. "He'll start feeding the Triumverate clues about Raines' and Lyle's activities tomorrow morning through his anonymous Internet connects, as we planned. He figures that he'll have given them the worst of the smoking-gun evidence by Thursday, so the most likely scenario is for all hell to break loose sometime late Friday evening. We pick up Shadow as arranged on Thursday night. And then Friday after work ends, you, Sam, Shadow and the kids head off to White Cloud as planned."
Her grey eyes darkened with worry. "And if he can make it, Angelo will go with you - but otherwise, we're hoping that he'll be safe in Renewal until the job's finished. His escape route from the Centre had required him to be independently mobile - and that just may not be possible anymore."
Sydney looked up at her apprehensively. "What about you?"
"Broots, Jarod and I have to stay here. We'll coordinate the conclusion of our take-down from my house and from within the Centre itself. For what its worth, my part," she smiled grimly, "is to see to it that the Tanakas get what's coming to THEM, too." She shrugged at the startled look on Syd's face. "They knew what they were buying into, Sydney. They knew what Lyle was offering to steal for them. They're no better than Raines or Lyle. The world needs protection from THEM too."
"Just so you don't lose YOUR thumb," Sydney grumbled. "This is the Yakuza you're taking on, you know..."
Miss Parker leaned forward and kissed his forehead again before rising. "I know what I'm doing, Syd. Don't worry about me. Let me get Jarod, now. He can check you out and see how you're doing so we can get this show on the road."
"Parker..." Sydney's eyes communicated his worry and fondness.
"Shhhhh.... You rest now. No more heroics from you - understood?" She reached out and took a hand and squeezed it hard to show the emotions were returned in kind. "It's MY turn now."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Daddy, is Grandpa going to be OK?"
Jarod seated himself on the edge of his son's bed. "Your Grandpa will be fine, Davy. He just needs to stay home and stay quiet for a few days - and he needs me out of his hair so he can rest properly."
The little boy's dark eyes studied his father with barely concealed excitement. "Are you really going to stay with us for a while now?"
"Yes. Your mother and I agreed."
Davy lay back into his pillows in contentment. "Like a real family. At last."
Jarod knew all too well where his son's mind was taking him - at least on a child's level. "For the time being, at any rate. Until your Grandpa's better," he hedged cautiously.
"But..." The boy's voice sounded confused. "Don't you love Mommy?" Those dark eyes held no guile, but were suddenly hard for the Pretender to face fully.
"Of course I do, but it just isn't that simple, Davy," Jarod explained, feeling almost as awkward now as he had the night he and Miss Parker had informed the lad that they really WERE his parents. "Your mother and I..."
"And doesn't she love you too?" Davy's dark gaze bore holes in his father's soul. "Her face goes all mushy when she talks about you sometimes."
Jarod smiled suddenly, the idea of Parker getting soft toward him touching him more deeply than he'd imagined possible. "We've been best friends for a very long time, Davy. Sometimes best friends just stay best friends, you know... They love each other as friends, but..."
The little boy's face grew seriously disappointed as he lay looking up at his father. "So this is just a visit, and you'll leave us one of these days?"
"Well, your Grandpa has more room for me at his place, for one thing," Jarod thought fast. "Here I have to sleep on the couch in the living room - while there I have a whole bedroom to myself."
"Mommy has plenty of room in her room, doesn't she? Isn't that the way it's supposed to be with moms and dads?"
"I think we'll just stick to me staying on the couch for the time being," Jarod replied, then leaned forward and gave his son a goodnight kiss on the cheek and rose. Discretion being the better part of valor, he knew he'd best beat a hasty retreat before Davy could think of more difficult questions to ask that he really didn't know how to begin to answer. "Goodnight, son. I'll see you in the morning."
"G'nite, Daddy," Davy answered, "I'm still glad you're here with us at last." He then rolled to his side and pulled the blankets over his shoulder.
Jarod extinguished the overhead bedroom light and closed the door, then walked down the hallway and descended the stairs with a huge yawn.
"I'm making some herb tea, if you want some, Jarod," Parker's voice trailed out and up at him from the kitchen.
"Thanks, that sounds good," he responded and headed in the direction of her voice. He stood in the doorway for a moment watching her fussing over teabags while the teakettle was heating on the stove. "You OK?"
"I am, more or less - I'd be a helluva lot better if Syd weren't laid up with a gunshot wound and my brother... well..." Her words sputtered to a halt, and she glanced back over her shoulder apologetically at him as she worked. "I should just be glad Angelo wasn't killed outright. Things could have gone so much more badly for us..."
"He'll be OK too, you know," Jarod soothed, moving into the kitchen and up behind her as she worked at the stove. "We accomplished something very important today. We stopped them from being able to... to..."
"I know," she nodded, glad he couldn't see her face at the moment. "I just can't get over all that pain and grief for one little vial of tissue."
"Davy came out of that same vial once upon a time, Parker," Jarod reminded her gently. "And don't get me wrong - as much as he is one of the best things to come into my life, I'd like to have a whole lot more say about when I have another child and with whom."
"Don't you think I feel the same way?" she retorted without any heat. "It's just that I can't get over the cost of getting that little vial out of the Centre before any part of it could get used again. Sydney shot, Angelo shot..."
"What we're doing isn't exactly safe for any of us," Jarod turned and leaned against the counter next to her so that he could see her face as she worked. "I believe your words, at the time we first put together this plan of action, were something to the effect that we were 'playing with fire'. You should know as well as any of us that those who play with fire tend to get a little singed around the edges sometimes."
"But this is Sydney we're talking about... Angelo..."
"And Broots, Debbie, Davy, Sam, you, me, Kevin... We're playing for keeps, Parker." He sighed. "And playing for keeps against the Centre tends to do more than singe people." He fell silent and, when she had no response to what they both knew was the truth, watched her continue to putter about preparing their tea for a long moment. "There's something else you and I need to talk about, you know. We have an important decision to make, and not a lot of time to make it in," he told her slowly and softly.
Her hands stilled in their task, and her grey eyes turned slowly to his. "About Redux?" she asked in an equally soft voice.
He nodded. "If we are going to keep the embryos viable, we'll have to get them into better storage and soon. If we don't intend to keep them viable, then we need to be clear about it - within ourselves and with each other."
"If?"
Jarod's gaze was gentle and sad. "If. They are barely even to blastula stage at this point in their development - essentially they're each just little hollow wads of cells. People who use in vitro fertilization to have children often end up with this same problem: what to do with the embryos created that won't be used. Some of them just conveniently forget the extras they created, thinking they can avoid the responsibility for what happens that way. I don't think you and I dare attempt that luxury - not with our genetics." She looked away and back down to where she was putting tea bags into the teapot, but remained silent.
"I don't know how you feel about this," he told her carefully. "It's one thing to prevent the Centre from creating new people from our combined biology without our permission. But these..." He paused. This was harder to express than he had thought it would be. "We need to decide what to do with that vial together, to agree about it, now that WE control what happens to the lives involved."
The teakettle chose that moment to sound off, giving Jarod an opportunity to fall silent and Miss Parker to busy herself with making tea without responding yet. He grabbed up the mugs she had selected from the counter and carried them over to the kitchen table and sat down to wait for her to join him, and watched her expression closely after she'd finally gathered herself together sufficiently to be able to face him.
"What do you want to do?" she asked, carefully keeping her visual attention on pouring the tea into the mugs without spilling it.
"I don't know what I want," he admitted, covering his eyes and rubbing them hard, hoping the action would prevent his tangled emotions from generating tears of frustration that would only confuse matters if seen by Miss Parker. "I honestly don't know how I feel about THEM - the embryos. On the one hand, I'm insulted that they even exist at all; and on the other..."
"I know. They're our own flesh and blood, and they had no part or say in how they came into being," she finished for him, slipping into the chair across the table from him. "Each one of them is another potential Davy, Jarod. And having been a mother to Davy for all these years, it's very hard for me to think of them as anything BUT my - our - unborn children."
As if mirror images of each other, the two each took a sip of tea and then propped their elbows on the table and nestled their chins in an uplifted palm.
"Do you want another child eventually, Parker?" Jarod asked finally, voicing the question that sat at the front of his mind. "And would you want a child that came from that vial?"
Her grey eyes met and held his dark chocolate gaze. "Being a single parent is hard, Jarod, and I didn't even have Davy when he was an infant. I'm willing to raise HIM as a single mother because it's something I've already started and decided to see through - but a new baby would need and deserve both a mother AND a father..."
"...And I have a life elsewhere I intend to go back to one day," Jarod finished for her this time.
"It wouldn't be fair of me to ask you to stay with me JUST so that Davy could have his father close," she continued the thought in a detached tone. "And it would be no more fair of you to ask me to leave Sydney and Broots to go with you for the same reason. As it is, we can't..."
Jarod looked down and spun the mug on the table with a finger absently, then looked up at her. "Do you want another child eventually, Parker? You didn't answer the question..."
"I..." She couldn't meet his gaze any longer, and she too focused her attention on the surface of the tea in her mug. "I would like to know the feeling of a child growing inside me, yes. But not..."
"But not MY child?" he asked very softly. "Not one of THEM?"
Her eyes came up to meet his immediately. "That's not it," she stated in a firm voice. "It has nothing to do with... they're being yours." She took a deep breath and marshaled both her thoughts and her courage. "It wouldn't be fair to ask me to carry your child or any other's without ongoing help and emotional support - and that means I couldn't carry any of those embryos to term if you and I weren't..."
"Emotionally involved and committed?"
She nodded. "And we're not, right now; and you intend to leave again when everything else is settled, remember?"
"But, what if we WERE involved... that way..." he suggested hesitantly.
She looked at him guardedly. "Do you want to be?" she shot back.
He looked down nervously, then back up again. "I don't know. Maybe," he admitted in a small voice. "Do you?"
"I don't know either," she admitted, following his example of looking down nervously and then back up at him again. "I don't think we're at a point that we can even begin to explore... that... yet."
He nodded, not sure whether he felt better or not yet. "So... What do we do about... THEM... in the meanwhile?" His chocolate gaze bore deep into her soul. "Right now they're suspended between living and not living." He reached out a hand, palm up, across the table. "It isn't fair to them to be held in that state indefinitely, neither alive nor..."
"How long do we have to decide?"
"We can delay the matter for a little while with dry ice," he answered with a sigh, "but it's a very expensive and short-term thing, purchased essentially one day at a time - starting tomorrow morning, in fact. If we do nothing, however, then they will just... lose their viability... on their own without any interference from us in relatively short order."
Miss Parker slowly extended her hand out and took Jarod's in hers. "I think... we need to let them go, Jarod." A tear dropped from her lashes to her cheek. "They are little lives that were never meant to be in the first place. We kept them from being horribly exploited - and that is the most important thing. Now we need to see them safely put to rest where nobody can ever harm them again."
"Be sure, Parker," Jarod's hand closed around hers gently. "Just because we're not involved now doesn't necessarily mean we can't become involved eventually - when things calm down." He smiled across the table at her. "I can't say the thought hasn't crossed my mind that you and I..."
She blushed and looked away for a moment. "Jarod, if we're meant to have more children together, there are other more traditional ways of getting them. And," she added, looking at him again, "I can't say I haven't thought about it either. But for now, we need to think about their welfare and not whether you and I... someday... We need to let them go, Jarod - make them safe from any further exploitation by the Centre, the Yakuza, the Triumverate, or anybody else the only one sure way."
"You're right." Jarod looked across the kitchen at the darkness outside the window. "Come with me, then," he said, rising and pulling her to her feet as well. "This needs to be done properly, and I have an idea."
Miss Parker watched as Jarod opened the freezer compartment, searched for a bit and then pulled out the little Styrofoam carrier. He opened it, removed the vial, wrapped it in a tea towel, and then took a large metal spoon from the drawer before reaching out for her hand again. Hand in hand they walked out the back door of the house and into her rose garden. In the moonlight, the white rosebush and its many blooms in the far corner of the garden stood out from the rest; and it was at the base of that bush that Jarod paused and turned to Miss Parker. When she nodded in agreement, he began to dig after handing the towel-covered vial to her to hold while he worked.
He dug a small but deep hole that slanted toward the bush itself, until the base of the hole sat directly under the rosebush. Then he backed away, and Miss Parker moved forward. "Be at peace, little ones," she said softly as Jarod's hand joined hers over the vial, and then she crouched and carefully reached deep into the hole to place the vial at the bottom of it gently. Then she backed away again, and Jarod carefully filled in the hole and tamped the dislodged ground with his hands until, in the dark, it seemed as if nothing had been changed.
He reached for her as he straightened, and she moved quickly into his arms and stood with her arms looped loosely about his waist. Together they grieved for what could not be and for the need to have done what they'd done, leaning on each other as neither had ever been able to lean before. And when the tears were spent, together they walked back into the house and closed and locked the door behind them, exhausted and grief-stricken, but both of them oddly relieved.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lyle looked around the warehouse in the moonlight, listening carefully. The instructions he had found on his home answering machine had been a bit cryptic, but he'd managed to decipher them in time to make the appointment they set up. At least, he hoped so. He'd far rather the Yakuza themselves be late to an appointment they arranged than he show up at the wrong place entirely.
"Lyle-san," came a voice from out of the darkness, and three shadowy figures moved into the dim light.
"Here," Lyle approached the trio immediately, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a thin, Styrofoam carrier. "Here's the remainder of Redux, as promised. Two of the women you helped the Centre round up are sedated and in the back seat of my car, ready for you to take into your custody."
Tanaka snorted and then mumbled something in guttural Japanese. "Tanaka-sama asks what has happened to the third woman," Fujimori's voice came from one of the three shadows, Lyle wasn't sure which.
"She was moved to the Renewal Wing under heavy guard for the insemination procedure before I could make arrangements for her too," Lyle explained patiently. "I figured that getting possession of the remaining embryos yourself, and two relatively healthy and mind-wiped surrogates would make up for the Centre's managing to get its own project started."
There was a muted discussion in Japanese, and Lyle gazed about him with increasing nervousness. Perhaps the setting and the need to appear unaffected by the personally threatening circumstances were a test of his resolve to switch his loyalties to the Yakuza. Such subtle tests of courage and determination were well-known elements of Japanese and Yakuza culture, elements that Lyle was determined to handle with finesse and style. Certainly the arrangements to get both the frosty vial and the sedated women safely out of the Centre on short notice without causing comment had been no small task - one he trusted demonstrated his potential usefulness to Yakuza interests sufficiently to seal his escape clause immediately.
He'd sat in his office after finishing on SL-13 and then checking up on the condition of Mr. Raines' pet freak, Angelo, pondering the benefits of simply 'disposing' of the vagrant women in his usual, adventurous manner and just handing over the frozen vial. It had been a real sacrifice to give up the thrill of the stalking and killing - not to mention the culinary delights that had been in decided short supply lately. But if the sacrifice now meant a new life and hunting grounds in Japan, then it would be worth it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Willy moved ever so slightly so that he could keep a closer eye on Lyle as he approached the three men who had moved only barely out of the shadows. When the younger Parker reached into a pocket and brought out the thin white carrier, Willy knew that he had a fairly decent idea of what was going on.
Mr. Raines had warned him that Lyle had been unhappy with many of his work orders of late. With the evidence standing in front of him, it was obvious that the younger Tower executive was exercising his ability to attempt to switch his loyalties from the Centre, which had sustained and supported him. Even though the Centre had protected him when his outrageous personal habits and lifestyle threatened his own safety and effectiveness as an operative, here he was, pandering to another powerful organization altogether. And with something stolen from the Centre.
This would make for a very interesting report to Mr. Raines, the tall dark sweeper decided with a cold leer in Lyle's direction. Frankly, he hoped that this would be enough for Mr. Raines to issue a final sanction on the slime. He moved the strap to the eavesdropping recorder to a slightly more comfortable spot on his shoulder and checked his aim. It would be best to have as clear a soundtrack as possible, so that Lyle's full treachery could be heard clearly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Tanaka-sama asks if you're sure this is all there is of Redux, other than what has already been used?"
Lyle sighed in frustration. "I told you, that was it. There never was an over-abundant supply of Pretender DNA in storage to begin with, you know - and Mr. Parker only authorized that one collection of DNA from Miss Parker..."
"Just making sure, Lyle-san. You're asking us to take a very great deal on nothing but trust in your word. We want you to be sure that you're very clear on the consequences of passing on misinformation." Fujimori's voice had taken on a slightly sinister tone.
"There was only one vial of human embryos in storage, and that was Redux," Lyle ground out, trying very hard not to get genuinely angry. "You can check the seal on the vial - it indicates homo sapiens. Besides, you saw the printout of the inventory of the freezer I gave you this afternoon at lunch. The number on this vial matches the number assigned to Redux."
A tiny light suddenly blinked into being, aimed at the white carrier which was then opened and examined at length. Tanaka finally looked up and over at the Caucasian in front of them, his face downright devilish-looking in the odd angle of light. He nodded and grumbled something, then closed the carrier and handed it off to one of the other two men at his side. "Very well," Fujimori's voice announced with a tone of finality. "Your terms for this element we had already bought and paid for was security against further threat from the Centre. Unfortunately, we know of only one way to keep you completely safe from the long arm of the Centre."
"I'm ready," Lyle announced with a sigh of relief. They WERE going to accept his employment application after all - and soon he'd be far away from Delaware and Mr. Raines and anything that would remind him of his roots in this god-forsaken organization. He never thought he'd think this, but things had gone seriously downhill since Raines had taken control. He'd be far better off with the Yakuza - especially now that he'd proven his worth to them.
"I doubt it," Fujimori snarled as his arm flipped suddenly forwards and upwards, the nun-chuck that had been carefully hidden against his leg wielded with vicious accuracy and skill to shatter a kneecap with minimal effort or noise.
Lyle screamed in pain and dropped to the ground, his shattered knee clasped to his chest. "Why?!" he yowled in agonized confusion.
"You are a fool if you think that we dare trust anyone who has so little honor as to betray those he works for," Fujimori hissed. "Your Raines-san may be a gutless, lung-less hungry ghost, but you are a ronin - a masterless pig - without any honor at all. You would sell anything, even your honor - if you had ever had any - for your own selfish well-being and security. Yakuza has no place for men with no honor."
"What about our deal?" Lyle sobbed. "I brought you Redux, redeeming your honor and your investment."
"All you redeemed was a quick death for yourself, ronin, rather than the slow and painful one you deserve," Fujimori translated Tanaka-sama's words precisely, and then nodded at the third man shallowly.
With little fanfare, the third man moved quietly behind Lyle and with a quick, circular motion had the garrote around the younger Parker's neck and pulled it tight with a snap. Lyle's body jerked spastically for a time while the assassin pulled steadily upwards on the head until, suddenly, there was no more movement. The body sagged from the garrote limply while the stench of relaxing sphincters filled the area.
"Do we leave the piece of shit here?" Yoshikata asked deferentially as he unwrapped the garrote from the dead man's neck and wound it up properly again to stuff it in the breast pocket of his jacket.
Tanaka thought for a while. "I think not," he decided. "The Centre needs to receive the message that the Yakuza are not to be trifled with - and that those who do face a similar fate." He pointed down. "Take the bastard's other thumb off and stuff it in his mouth. We'll throw the body out at the front gate of the Centre's main facility on our way back to New York. Let that hungry ghost Raines sweat for a while, wondering when we'll come after HIM."
"What about the surveillance sweeper over there in the dark?" Fujimori asked with a note of worry, jerking his head in Willy's direction. "Shouldn't we take care of him too, to send a much louder message?"
"Don't worry about him," Tanaka shook his head confidently, looking out into the dark toward the Centre sweeper confidently and communicating to the hidden man that his presence was no longer a secret. "He'll be part of our message delivery system. Let him tell the story of who took out the ronin, and play back our words for a translator. Raines-san will know, then, that we only wait for a slightly more auspicious moment to make sure the Centre never crosses paths with the Yakuza again. And that his days are numbered as well."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Willy's jaw had dropped the moment he'd seen the one Japanese assassin cripple Lyle with a single blow, and the hand with which he'd continued to hold the eavesdropping recorder had shaken as he'd watched the subsequent quick execution by the second. But when the dimly lit Japanese faces had slowly turned in his direction, telling him in no uncertain terms that his presence and having witnessed everything was known - and that they evidently didn't care - his courage had failed him. As carefully as he could, he'd backed away from the scene and made his way as quietly as possible out of the warehouse and back toward the Centre sedan he'd used to come here.
He needed to get back to the Centre, where he was safe. If he never saw those Yakuza devils again, it would be all too soon!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod rose to a sitting position on the couch for the third time, frowning in frustration because, despite the couch's being quite comfortable, he couldn't seem to fall asleep. The look on Miss Parker's face as they had stood in the rose garden haunted him, as did the idea of what they'd done. He threw back the light blanket she'd given him, rose to his feet and then padded barefoot in his pajama bottoms to the kitchen. The used tea mugs from earlier in the evening sat next to the sink, rinsed but not washed, and he selected the one he'd used, drew some water from the tap and sipped at it while staring out the window.
Soon he felt rather than saw that she'd joined him at the sink. He glanced over at her in the moonlight. Her hair was slightly mussed, as if she'd tossed and turned in bed herself for a while, and her silken pajamas shone in the dim, cold moonlight as soft and graceful drapes against the curves of her body.
"You can't sleep either, huh?" he asked in a very quiet voice, trying to neither startle her nor shatter the peaceful mood.
She shook her head, glanced up at him as if embarrassed, then followed his example and drew a mug of tap water for herself. "It's like being in the eye of a hurricane." She cradled her mug against her chest with both hands. "Everything is all anticipation and dread, but nothing's happening at the moment. I just know, though, that once things get started, all Hell is going to bust loose."
"I know," he responded quietly, then sipped from his mug again.
"Jarod, I..." Miss Parker blushed and shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
"What?" he asked gently.
She looked up into his face and found him gazing at her with indulgent curiosity. "Look, this is going to sound pretty silly, but..."
He shook his head. "Don't worry. What?"
At last she found the courage to look at him directly. "I don't want to be alone. Not tonight." His eyes widened in surprise, and she hastened to add, "I don't mean I want us to... I mean... in case that's what you're thinking. I just..." She looked down, totally embarrassed.
Jarod's touch on her arm was gentle. "...want to feel safe for a little while?" he finished for her, his voice lifting at the end as if asking a question. "No passion, just a little bit of cuddling?"
"Yeah," she sighed in relief that he'd not misunderstood her intent. She looked up at him again. "I need my best friend to just hold me for a while and let me fall asleep feeling safe and warm. Do you mind?"
"No, I don't mind," he replied softly, and his hand on her arm moved up to surround her shoulders and pull her towards him. "I don't mind at all."
With a release of breath, she leaned into him gratefully. Jarod put his mug back on the counter, relieved her of hers and placed it next to his. Then, after she looped an arm around his waist loosely, they walked together slowly up the stairs and down the hall to her room. She left his side to claim her side of the bed and slip beneath the covers. He paused, then moved surely in the moonlight to the other side of the bed and did the same.
She rolled toward him as he settled back into the pillows and rested her head on his shoulder after he'd slipped his arm beneath her neck. She breathed out as she closed her eyes and, with one arm extended across his stomach, slowed her breathing as she fell deeply and contentedly asleep.
Jarod lay for a while, holding her close in his arms and yet again examining his intents and plans. It felt good to be beside her; it felt RIGHT. But did he...
The mental question was never finished, for his eyes closed slowly and his breathing evened out as he too, finally, surrendered to sleep.
Feedback, please: mbumpus_99@hotmail.com