Note: The characters of Jarod, Sydney, Miss Parker, etc. belong to TNT and whoever else owns them. This is nothing more than me paying tribute to what was a great show. I'm not trying to make money, etc. You know the drill.

This story is pre-pretender movies, since I didn't like where the movies took the story. It doesn't exactly pick up where season four left off either, so you could say this is just one of "those" stories.

Thanks to Maestra for all your help and for brainstorming with me the other night. *hugs* This one's for you kiddo!

Chapter Four

Miss Parker's unique gait could be heard several moments before she actually came into view. She stopped right behind Broots, her silence making a shudder of fear and respect run through the computer geek.

"Have you found anything yet, Broots?" she demanded.

Turning in his swiveling chair ever so slowly, Broots tilted his head back to look up at Miss Parker, giving her a hesitant grin before answering her question.

"Well, uhm, not exactly, Miss Parker. I'm still looking though," he reassured her quickly.

A frown marred her lovely face, "You mean to tell me that you haven't found anything? Not a damn thing?" she hissed, her eyes sparking with anger already.

Shivering, Broots nodded; his misery plain to see.

Parker gritted her teeth, "There has to be something, find it Broots. I don't care how you do it!" she snapped as she whirled on her heel and stalked away, leaving poor Broots quaking in fear and disappointment.

He had run every search he could think of, and came up with nothing. The only other thing he could think of to do would be to find out which office belonged to this mysterious man and access his files from his personal terminal.

Even the thought of playing cloak and dagger within the Centre's watching walls was as unnerving a thought as Broots could think of. Whoever this man was, he didn't want anyone to know who he was and trying to track down that information could be seriously hazardous to his peace of mind, not to mention his health.

What could he do? He had a direct order from Miss Parker and he didn't dare disobey her. Swallowing heavily, he silently cursed the day he'd ever come to work for this sinister place then sent a silent prayer to any god above that might hear him.

Death by mystery man or death by Miss Parker; neither was an appealing option. Knowing Miss Parker, she'd surely come up with some horribly painful way to die, something involving removing his body parts. He would have to find this mystery man's office and pray no one found out he was there.

What else was a computer geek to do?

After having found a drugstore and bought some essentials for Trista, Jarod had come back to the room on to find that he couldn't sleep. Again.

He felt his brain begin to short circuit as he sat in the motel room, Trista snoring ever so softly on her bed. He kept going over everything in his mind and nothing seemed to make any sense. He picked up the composite drawing he'd done of the mysterious Catherine Gardner and stared into the shaded eyes staring back at him. Why did he keep thinking he knew her? Who was she really? What did she have to do with Trista, Jeremy and their four month old daughter?

Something was eluding him. He could sense it, feel it, and almost taste it for God's sake. Why couldn't he remember it? Desperation made him grab for his laptop and flip it open, plug the cable into the phone jack and begin typing almost feverishly.

He pulled up the email from Sydney and looked it over, every word stuck in his mind. The memo was purposely short and abbreviated so as to remain as elusive as possible. What was so secretive? A growl tore from Jarod's throat as he sat there, his eyes burned from lack of sleep as he stared at his monitor; nothing was making any sense.

An idea born on sheer desperation came to him. Might as well break into the Centre's mainframe and see what he could find that Broots might have overlooked. His fingers flew over the keyboard as the program he'd written himself came up and he accessed the Centre. The logo came on screen and Jarod smiled in anticipation. It was always satisfying to thumb his nose at the Centre while uncovering more of her secrets.

At the same time…

Broots sat there sweating profusely as he typed in the codes to access the computer in the office. He darted glances over his shoulders and around the shadowed room constantly. He muttered a few more prayers under his breath as he brought up personal files that made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever.

They were all in code! Broots chuckled to himself. Given enough time, he'd crack it like an opera singer in a room full of crystal. He'd just copy and look it over later. Whatever it was, it was important enough to put into code and therefore something that might mean something to Miss Parker.

Suddenly the computer beeped loudly, and then a window popped up. Broots cursed quietly because an unknown source had breeched the Centre's security. Curious, Broots tracked the signal, and when that was unsuccessful, he figured it was Jarod.

Laughing again to himself, he wondered at the odds of both of them trying access forbidden information at the very same time. Ah well, he'd make certain no one else found out about Jarod until it was too late. It was the least he could do for the man since Jarod had made certain his ex-wife didn't get custody of Debbie. Besides, if they found out about Jarod just now, they might find Broots as well and he really didn't want that to happen.

Still, no sense in not trying to track Jarod's signal again; Miss Parker would skin him alive if he didn't try to find him. He pulled his cell phone out of his pants' pocket and speed dialed Miss Parker, even though it was after midnight.

"What!?" came the snapped response.

"Miss Parker, you're never going to believe this, but I am in that guy's office, you know that one you wanted me to find out his identity. Well, I've accessed his computer and almost as soon as I did, Jarod breeched the Centre's security," Broots explained in a rushed whisper.

He heard some rustling over the phone as Miss Parker sat up in bed, "Broots, it's almost one o'clock in the morning, what the hell are you talking about? Have you been sniffing white-out again?" Miss Parker growled sleepily.

If Broots didn't know she'd bite his head off, Broots might have giggled at Miss Parker's slur against him. Instead he merely explained himself more carefully. Miss Parker was instantly on alert.

"Have you traced the signal yet, Broots?" she wondered.

Broots looked about the office again, noting its strange lack of personal ornamentation. There were no pictures, no plaques, no certificates that lined the drab walls. Nothing that might tell Broots who this man with the strange eyes might be, what he did at the Centre, nothing.

Heck, he had several of Debbie's pictures pinned in his office. Even Miss Parker had a picture of her mother in her office. Sydney proudly displayed all his degrees and whatnot. But there was nothing in this office. Who was this man?

"Broots? Answer me, damn it!" Miss Parker snarled.

Shaking himself, Broots managed to stammer, "S-sorry, Miss Parker, yes I traced the signal but I couldn't find where it originated from. Jarod is too careful for that."

"Damn it," she paused, "Well, keep trying Broots, wonder-boy is bound to screw up eventually. Call me if you find something."

Click.

Broots really hated when she did that.

Getting back to the computer, he downloaded all the files on the computer to a disk and logged off. For now, Jarod would have to remain un-captured because there was no way he was going to risk life and limb to remain in this creepy office any longer.

At the same time…

Jarod clapped a hand over his mouth when he saw that Broots was logged on and trying to track his signal. When would the man ever learn? He glimpsed the files that Broots downloaded and copied them himself. Whatever was in them, it couldn't hurt if Jarod peeked as well.

He also saw that Broots had blocked his signal so that no one else could detect him while he ran his search. He silently thanked Broots, who was all in all a good man, just working for the wrong people.

He tracked down the memo Sydney had sent to him in Mr. Parker's files and wondered again what the Ghost Project was.

Something struck him as he looked over the memo again. He had always assumed the letter Z was an abbreviation for someone's name, but what if it was nothing more than the name itself? He ran a search and came up with one file simply named "Ghost".

A sense of foreboding filled him. In that file was something vitally important to the Centre. Hell, it could even involve him as well. He opened it.

Zuhuco has been placed in a controlled environment. Monitoring him. Stage 2 will be commencing in three days. [See DSA JEZ-139462-99] Eleanor will be heading that segment of the project. [Please refer to the NuGenesis files JLP-5621-1976/JPC-2187-1999] Please send a team of Cleaners to retrieve the subject as he has had Sweeper training. DO NOT TERMINATE.

When was it dated? Four days ago.

That was it. Who was Eleanor? What did Zuhuco mean? Jarod shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs from his brain. More files to hunt and track; more hacking, more reading. Deciding his head hurt too much, Jarod shut down his computer and was certain sleep might be just the thing. He kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed only to find that sleep was ever elusive as usual and stayed awake all night, staring up at the discolored ceiling.

When Trista awoke, she wasn't expecting to find herself in a dingy motel room. She jumped up, until her mind became fully alert and remembered where she was. And why.

"Oh god," she breathed, all the pain of the last two days catching up with her again.

Jarod was immediately by her side, comforting her and holding her in a sure embrace, "It'll be alright," he assured her, "We'll find her, I promise."

His voice calmed her somewhat and she pushed away to look up into his face. She smiled sheepishly, then wiped away her tears, "You always seem to be there when I need you, Jarod," she laughed, trying to lighten not only her mood, but the serious look in Jarod's eyes as well.

He gave her a crooked grin, "At your service, ma'am, a self-proclaimed knight in shining armor, complete with dragon slaying sword."

Again she smiled. Pulling completely away from him, she got up and stretched her stiff muscles, groaning as she did so.

"I got you a tooth brush, tooth paste, deodorant, shampoo and conditioner. It's all in the bathroom. Whatever else you need, we can stop somewhere and pick it up before we leave town."

A slight blush stained Trista's cheeks; she giggled nervously and ran into the bathroom without answering him. Sometimes he was just too practical about "those" things. Oh well, she shrugged, he didn't seem to mind all the embarrassing things she'd done since they'd met. Among all of them, this one might have been the least humiliating.

She peeled her borrowed clothing from her body and allowed it to pool at her feet before stepping from them. She turned on the hot and cold water for a nice shower, which would remove some of the grime she'd acquired since this whole ordeal began. It would feel good to be clean again.

Ten minutes later, she came out in the same clothing she'd been wearing to sleep in and a white towel wrapped around her head. She'd figured it was cleanest and that was all that mattered to her. Besides, Jarod had plenty of clothing to spare, and so far he hadn't seemed to mind sharing it with her at all. She smiled at him, thinking he must be her guardian angel, how else could she explain it?

Jarod looked up from his computer and wondered exactly how much he should tell her of the little he'd found last night. Well, what exactly had he found? Another memo that made little or no sense only because he needed more information, though he was certain it was about Jeremy, Caitlyn and whatever mystery surrounded the younger man. Jarod had figured as he lay in bed all night, that Zuhuco must be a code word for Jeremy. It was the exact same letters and had been in a file named Ghost. He had learned long ago that there were no coincidences in the Centre.

Should he? He decided against it. She already had so much to worry about. It would keep until he knew more about what was going on.

They gathered their belongings and got on the road again.

By about 9 that night, they had arrived at Blue Cove, but only because Jarod had drove almost non-stop, determined to get there as soon as possible. It had been over two days since Caitlyn had been taken, he didn't want Trista to have to suffer another day without her daughter.

On the outskirts of Blue Cove, about five miles away from the coastline, Jarod insisted Trista stay at the Motel 6 he'd rented a room at.

"I want to come with you, I want to be there when you find my daughter, Jarod," she'd cried.

"You don't understand what kind of people we're up against, Trista. You already pointed out that if they find you, they'll kill you. Now listen to me Trista," he put his forefinger under her chin, that was damp from her tears and lifted her head to meet his solemn gaze, "If I am not back by tomorrow night, or I don't contact you in some way, I want you to run as far and as fast as you can. Take that silver case with you and the black leather briefcase; it contains several credit cards and some cash. Don't look back, Trista, do you understand?"

She could only nod, her fear which had been manageable, increasing by the second as she realized, perhaps for the first time, that Jarod was risking everything to help her.

"Why are you doing this for me, Jarod? You don't owe me anything."

There was no answer for several moments, but when Jarod finally met her eyes, she saw such naked pain, it made her want to comfort this man before her as he had done for her so many times, "Because I wish someone had done it for my parents when I was taken from them. I won't let your daughter grow up like I did."

She nodded. What else was there to say, especially after that? There was no good response to that, nothing she could do to ease his pain. Instead she gave him her bravest smile and wished him luck. God knows he would need it.

As Jarod drove, ever closer to the Centre, his tension rose until he felt like a tightly wound coil, ready to spring forth at the slightest pressure. He slowed down, the darkness pressed around the car he was driving, making him feel caged already. He scanned the sides of the road, looking for the small trail that would lead him to his long ago exit from Purgatory.

Abandoning the car behind a clump of bushes, he pulled his dark coat closer to his body, shivering in spite of himself. There it was the gaping mouth of hell. There was no choice but to enter and pray he didn't damn his soul for all eternity.

He had e-mailed Angelo last night, explaining that he was arriving tonight, asking him to meet him in the air vents near Raines' office. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be that creepy bag of bones.

As he traversed the venting system, memories assaulted him from all sides. Some good, mostly they were downright frightening.

Before he arrived at Raines' office via the air vents, Angelo found him. Knowing that Angelo was an empath, Jarod had thought to bring Caitlyn's dress along with him. If Caitlyn was in any danger, Angelo would know.

"Jarod!" Angelo murmured happily, his usually empty eyes dancing with joy as he embraced his old childhood friend.

"Angelo," Jarod returned, pulling the man into an awkward embrace, he pulled away, "Do you know anything about the Ghost Project, Angelo?"

A flicker of emotion crossed Angelo's face, "Ghost?" he asked distastefully.

Nodding, Jarod pulled the pink and white sundress out of the backpack he carried. He handed it over to Angelo, who took it with another happy grin and fingered it delicately.

"Baby girl," he proclaimed proudly, then frowned, "Misses mommy. Scared, alone, crying!" he told Jarod in fear.

Jarod nodded, "Can you take me to the baby girl, Angelo? Can you take me to Caitlyn?"

Angelo seemed to be feeling something uncomfortable. He turned and began to crawl away, mumbling to himself.

"Ghost … baby … Ghost …"

Jarod followed behind Angelo, praying his friend was taking him to the infant. He hated being here, but he refused to leave without the child. Several twisty passages later, Angelo stopped and scooted over to make room so Jarod could view the room they'd arrived at.

As he looked down through the grating, Jarod saw a woman and two men, their voices whispered quietly, so it was hard for Jarod to understand them.

Anger and rage flew through Jarod as he saw that one of the men was Lyle, though he didn't recognize the other one and the woman was no other than Catherine Gardner.

Mr. Lyle left, seemingly satisfied by whatever discussion the group had had. The man sat down at his desk, his jet black hair gleaming in the light, with very few strands of white marring its pristine blackness.

Catherine Gardner gave the man a piercing look, "Are you ever going to tell Lyle that Jeremy is his son?" she asked.

The man sat forward slowly, deliberately, "Perhaps in time. What good would it do for him to know now? Jeremy is mine, not Lyle's. I will not allow him to take that control away from me."

Sighing in seemingly frustration, Catherine turned from the man, "He will find out eventually. You cannot keep that a secret from him forever. When he does find out, he will be furious with you for keeping such vital information from him. We are talking about Mr. Parker's son, for God's sake."

The man chuckled, "That remains to be seen, my dear Eleanor. Please calm down now, it is time for you to go and feed our little Caitlyn while I must see to Jeremy."

Eleanor nodded and walked out of the office, leaving the man alone.

The man stood, he was very tall, Jarod noted.

"Soon the Ghost Project will come to fruition," he murmured delightedly, and then he left.

Jarod turned to Angelo, "Follow that man, Angelo. Tell me where he goes. I must find the baby girl, all right?" he instructed carefully.

Angelo merely nodded and began crawling away.

Jarod had no choice but to leave the safety of the ventilation system. He carefully pushed on the grating and pulled it into the vent next to him, then carefully lowered himself down in the office. Taking a deep breath, he went in search of Catherine Gardner, a.k.a. Eleanor.

She was nowhere in sight. Not good. In fact, there was no one in sight, Jarod noted as he glanced up and down the hallways. But if he had to wager where they were keeping Caitlyn, he'd have to say in the nursery on SL-13.

Though avoiding the guards was no problem for Jarod, wondering if he was going in the right direction made him nervous. He arrived, however, on SL-13 with no mishap and made his way down to the nursery.

There he saw her, holding Trista's daughter, rocking to her and feeding her from a bottle. Again, a flash of recognition made him stop short and wonder just who she was. He waited, hiding in the shadows of a supply closet, knowing if he was patient enough, she would leave Caitlyn and then he could leave this godforsaken place and never look back.

Fifteen minutes later, Jarod heard footsteps walking towards the elevators and knew that Eleanor had left. He opened the door very quietly and looked about, seeing no one, he went to the door of the nursery and found it locked securely. No problem there, he short-circuited the keypad and opened the door.

Caitlyn lay there sleeping peacefully in the stainless-steel crib they'd provided, with hospital grade, starch white sheets and a plain baby gown covering her small body. She was as perfect in real life as she had been in the pictures Jarod had seen of her. Rosy cheeks and perfect bow-shaped lips, her eyes lids were delicate and her nose the perfect button shape. A cap of baby fine, blond hair covered her head and Jarod knew from pictures she had dark, intensely blue eyes.

He crossed the room and gently picked up the child, cradling her against his chest. She readjusted herself and fell asleep once more, her body laying so trustingly in his.

"Hello Jarod," a voice sounded from behind.

A tingling premonition shot through his body as he turned to see not only Eleanor standing before him, but the man she'd been talking to only a half an hour before. His vivid green eyes seemed to size him up. The strange calmness in his demeanor unnerved Jarod somewhat.

"It's good to see you again, Jarod," Eleanor smiled, stepping forward and holding out her hands for the baby. Jarod pulled away.

"Come now, Jarod. We do not want Caitlyn hurt in a struggle, so be sensible and give her to me," Eleanor coaxed, her voice stirring memories in Jarod's mind's eye.

"Come here, Jarod. I do not want to call the sweepers to make you do as I say," she'd threatened gently, her voice falsely soothing.

In a panic, Jarod tried to run away from her but she made good on her threat and called for a set of sweepers to subdue him while she injected something into his body.

"Now just relax, Jarod. Relax," she'd ordered him, as the darkness began to swallow him…

"You," Jarod murmured, "I remember."

An amused smile play across her lips, "I was beginning to wonder if you ever would, Jarod. For all of Sydney's touting of your genius, you certainly are slow on the uptake, my boy."

He shook his head, horrified by the small memory he'd seen. What other things couldn't he remember? What had they done to him?

"Now give me the baby, Jarod. I won't tell you again."

His determination must have shown, for a snap of the man's fingers brought a set of sweepers in the nursery, ready to be commanded.

"Seems we've caught the prey at last. Won't Lyle be thrilled?" the man commented almost idly.

"You've nowhere to run, Jarod; nowhere left to hide. Please hand me the baby," she insisted yet again.

As the sweepers descended upon him, he reluctantly placed the sleeping Caitlyn in Eleanor's waiting arms. They dragged him away as Eleanor placed Caitlyn in the crib once more, smoothing her hair away from the baby's forehead.