Anything having to do with the Pretender isn't mine. It belongs to TNT and whoever else. This is merely a fanfic, don't sue me!

Again, thanks to Maestra for all your help with this story. I rushed it just for you. Hope you like!!

Chapter Five

"Ghost … baby …" he muttered as he saw the sweepers take Jarod away, "Jarod."

He knew where they would take him. He would follow in the air vents. He would set Jarod free so that they couldn't hurt baby girl. He would help Jarod.

Scrambling into the darkness, Angelo made his way down to SL-22. He arrived outside of the room just as they brought Jarod in it. Though he remained perfectly calm, there was panic in his eyes. The sweepers secured him to a bed, handcuffed his hands and feet to the railings.

"Escape from that, Houdini," one of them sneered.

As soon as Jarod was left alone, Angelo wasted no more time in lowering himself to the floor and trying to release Jarod.

"Angelo," Jarod said quietly, "Can you find me something to pick the lock with? A paper clip will work. Can you find me one?"

Angelo's head bobbed, "Paper clip," he murmured.

"Good. Now hurry, Angelo. Before they come back," Jarod urged.

He crawled into the air vents once more and shuffled through the passageways, coming to Miss Parker's office first. He undid the screen and dropped to the floor with the agility of a child and went searching through her desk for the needed paper clip.

"Thank you, Daughter," he mumbled once he'd found what he sought. However, once he had returned to where Jarod was being kept prisoner, Angelo saw he was no longer alone.

"Who are you?" Jarod was saying.

The tall man with dark skin chuckled, "Haven't you figured it out yet, Jarod? I'm a ghost."

Angelo shuddered as he watched.

"What does that mean?"

The man tsked and began to pace the sterile room, he shook his head, "Must I explain it to you, Jarod? I was so hoping you would have been able to figure it all out from the bread crumbs I left you. The memos, Eleanor, why even Trista was all part of my plan to capture you."

"What is the Ghost Project?" Jarod asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

The man stopped, "When I first came to the Centre, every subject worth having was already being handled. Kyle, you, Angelo, even Lyle, all that was left was Jeremy who was barely more than a child when I took charge of him.

"Don't get me wrong, Jeremy is remarkable. He's also a Pretender Jarod; he inherited the gene from his father and can utilize those skills fully, though at the time he refused to do so. I trained him to be the perfect weapon; Raines may have had Kyle, Lyle and even Angelo, whom he tried to encourage only negative emotion from, but I had Jeremy. Instead of teaching him to be cold and hard, I showed him the value of being human, taught him instead how to make people see only the good in you, to trust you.

"Once I felt he was ready, I released him, his first mission was to track you down and then to capture you. He's done a remarkable job thus far, hasn't he? A perfect success which Raines, Lyle or Miss Parker could never lay claim to. You see, Jeremy was trained to get past people's defenses, earn their trust and then find their weaknesses. We knew you would never allow an innocent child to be taken from its mother, and so the entire kidnapping was a charade."

"You bastard!" Jarod growled.

"Perhaps, but you're back where you belong, Jarod, and I've been promised that if I succeeded in capturing you, I would be allowed to reintegrate you. Isn't that a wonderful thought?

"Just think, if I can take a mediocre Pretender and train him well enough to capture you, what then can I do with you? The possibilities are mind boggling," the man said with glee.

"What will you do with Caitlyn?" Jarod wondered quietly.

He shrugged, "She's been tested at NuGenesis for the gene and come out positive. I'm afraid your friend, Trista will never see her daughter again."

Jarod tried to lunge at the man, but it was entirely useless.

The man merely laughed and then left Jarod alone, quietly furious for having been too blind to see what was before his very eyes. He sighed in defeat and shut his eyes, closing out his surroundings, forgetting in that moment that his ally was waiting to rescue him.

A soft thud startled Jarod from his mental reveries, he opened his eyes and saw Angelo standing there, proudly holding up the paper clip for Jarod to see.

"Found paper clip," he told Jarod.

"Bring it here, Angelo" Jarod urged, his voice hoarse from emotions he didn't dare examine too closely.

Angelo complied quickly, handing Jarod the clip and helping him bend it so Jarod could work the handcuffs open. Luckily, the chain was long enough so that Jarod had the leverage he needed to do so.

In no time, Jarod had unlocked himself from his prison and both men returned to the safety of the air vents.

They returned to the nursery on SL-13, but Caitlyn was gone.

"Damn it!" Jarod growled, "They've moved her to a safer location."

There was only one thing left to do. Free Jeremy.

"Angelo, do you remember when I asked you to follow the man? Where did he go?"

Nodding, Angelo quickly led Jarod to another sub-level and pointed to the room where Jeremy was being restrained in a similar bed that Jarod had just escaped from. With the paper clip in hand, Jarod swung down from the vents and peered suspiciously at the prone body lying before him.

There was something all too eerily familiar about Jeremy and Jarod knew why. That was Lyle's son laying there unconscious. God only knew how that strange man had twisted his mind, but Jarod fully believed in redemption. Isn't that why he himself had escaped the Centre, to find redemption and retribution for himself and those hurt by the Centre's evil? Isn't that why he'd rescued Kyle when he knew that his little brother had been corrupted by Raines and done unspeakable acts that Jarod himself didn't even want to know about?

The Centre had taken too many people, caused too many casualties. A very vivid picture of Jillian came to mind. She was only one in many. She had believed in redemption for herself, too. With all that firmly in mind, Jarod unlocked the handcuffs and freed Jeremy from his physical prison though Jarod knew it would take more than a mere paper clip to free him from his mental prison.

With Angelo's help, Jarod managed to get Jeremy into the vents and drag him out of the Centre's walls.

"You can come with me, you know," Jarod told Angelo, wishing that he would come, but knowing Angelo would never do it.

As expected, Angelo shook his head emphatically, "Must stay. Watch."

Jarod nodded, he was always glad to have an ally he could trust implicitly, but it saddened him to leave his friend here.

"Be safe, my friend," Jarod embraced the man, pulled away to look into the almost vacant eyes, "If you find out where the baby girl is, you know how to reach me."

With a nod, Angelo disappeared into the shadows and Jarod half-carried and half-dragged the younger man to his waiting car as the first streaks of dawn began reaching across the sky.

As Jarod glanced back in the rear-view mirror, wondering what Trista would have to say when she found out that Jeremy had only used her, and then kidnapped their child. He was certain the fireworks were about to spark.

Trista paced nervously, waiting for Jarod, not being able to sleep. She sighed, wishing for the millionth time that Jarod had allowed her to come. She was a doer; she had absolutely no patience for this kind of thing.

Besides, this motel wasn't the cleanest. Who knows what kind of creepy, flying things would attack her and Jarod wasn't even there to eject them from the room for her. She prayed for Caitlyn, for Jarod and for them to return soon. Surely Jarod would succeed in bringing her baby back to her, he'd been so determined.

A car pulled up into one of the parking spaces outside the room and Trista ran to see if it was the rental car. She peeked through the curtains and squealed in delight, seeing Jarod in the car.

Running to the door, she flipped open the locks and flung herself out the door, only to see Jarod get out of the car with a grim look on his face.

She halted, "What's wrong, Jarod?" she whispered.

Jarod shook his head, unable to meet her unwavering eyes, "I'm so sorry, Trista. I had her … but …" he trailed off. Now was not the time to explain everything to her. He turned to the back door of the car and opened it, struggled with the prone body and heard Trista's audible gasp when she saw Jeremy's flaccid face.

"Oh my god," she breathed.

Jarod concurred.

They managed, between the two of them, to get Jeremy into the motel room and lay him on one of the beds. He had been heavily sedated; Jarod could only speculate what they had used on him.

"Will he be alright?" Trista asked hopefully.

Sighing wearily, Jarod didn't know how to tell her about Jeremy, didn't want to try. There was a light in her eyes as she glanced down with concern for Jeremy's well-being. All he could do was nod at her.

The room seemed to press in on him, so Jarod checked Jeremy once again and made sure he wouldn't be stirring anytime soon. He excused himself to go on a little walk to clear his mind, his whirling thoughts.

The sun had risen fully by now and the air around him was warming slowly. Panic set in. What had he done? Redemption was an illusion, he thought bitterly. What had it gotten him? A life filled with pain and loneliness, that's what. What had it gotten his brother Kyle and Jillian? More pain and eventually death. When would he learn? Sydney had been right. He couldn't save everyone.

Back in that motel room was an innocent girl alone with a psychopath at the very least. God only knew what that man had done to the boy, no matter that he wasn't aware that Lyle was his father; he was a Parker, and that was enough. Not even Catherine's gentle spirit had completely erased the dark legacy of Parker's father's corruption. It would continue to poison each generation the Centre touched.

Now it had passed to Caitlyn. She was an innocent, nothing more than a cherub who deserved a happy, normal life with her mother. She did not belong in the Centre. A small tear managed to leak down Jarod's face. He swiped at it angrily, not wanting to feel so much pain all the time. When would it end? When would he be free of his torment?

If the Centre had its way, never; and therein, lay his answer. If he gave up, the Centre would win. Never mind that propriety demanded he stop them. He may have been raised in a sterile environment sans a normal upbringing, but he was still a human and competitiveness was simply in his nature. If nothing else, he had to prove to himself that they wouldn't always win every battle, and especially not the war.

Still, that left him the problem of explaining what was happening to Trista before Jeremy woke up. She would need time to adjust to the idea that Jeremy wasn't the nice guy she'd thought him to be. Jarod suspected she would also be downright furious and try to do something stupid, like beat the shit out of Jeremy and who knew what kind of response that would trigger in him. Jarod knew Jeremy had had Sweeper training, he was extremely dangerous and Jarod wasn't about to let any harm come to Trista.

Hurrying back to the room, Jarod opened the door to find Trista hovering over Jeremy, as if by the sheer force of her will alone she could make him wake up.

"Trista, we need to talk," Jarod began.

She turned to him and gave him a ghost of a smile. She was at odds with herself. Part of her was happy to see Jeremy once again; the other part of her was still frantic over the whereabouts of her daughter.

"Ok," she agreed.

Jarod pulled her away from Jeremy, sat her on the bed and began. Most of it still didn't make any sense to Jarod. But as he finished, the light had gone completely out of Trista's eyes as she glanced over at the man she must have thought she was in love with, the man who had fathered her child. The man who had then kidnapped her child.

"I don't believe you," she whispered, her face was pale, her eyes wide and looked huge in her face.

Jarod didn't know what to tell her. She was in denial and he cursed himself for revealing everything to her. She had deserved to know the truth, but he wondered if, at this point, she could handle it.

She jumped up suddenly and grabbed the first thing that came within her reach. The bedside lamp. She hurled it across the room, the bulb shattered on impact and the base merely dinged the wall and dropped with a muffled thud in the carpet.

Jarod glimpsed Trista's face. No longer was it blanched white, she was furious. Her face was red with anger as she began venting her emotions.

"You bastard!" she screamed, "Why?! You freaking bastard!" she zoned in on Jarod, the only person she could take her anger out on at the moment, pulling her fist back and throwing a punch that might have done some damage had he not dodged it.

Jumping off the bed, Jarod wrapped his stronger arms about her and held her. She struggled and cursed him, trying to beat on him.

Jarod didn't blame her for being angry. He was still angry himself. He merely held onto Trista until she wore herself out and slumped against him.

"I'm sorry, Trista," he murmured against her ear.

She sagged in his arms, her anger spent, now all she had left to feel was the unbearable pain. Her shoulders heaved with the force of her cries and all Jarod could do was hold her still.

"I just want my baby back," Trista finally managed as she began to calm down.

Jarod nodded, his grip on her loosening to release her, knowing that she wouldn't want him near her once her defenses went back into place. It was her way of keeping her distance, not allowing anyone too close both emotionally and physically. He wasn't surprised when she pushed him away.

She even put several feet between them, her arms wrapped about her body as she stood there trying to figure out what she needed to do.

"I promised you I would get you your baby back, Trista. I haven't forgotten that promise. We will find her," Jarod told her quietly.

The hopelessness in her dark eyes made Jarod want to cry for her, "I know you will try, but I don't think we will ever find her, Jarod. She's gone," she told him.

Jarod stalked over to where Trista stood and grabbed her shoulders and began shaking her, trying to snap her out of the depression that had gripped her, "Don't Trista. Do not give up on me. Caitlyn needs you; she needs you to fight for her. I'm not about to let the Centre make your daughter another one of its victims. I will rescue her or die in the attempt."

Her breathing came in short little gasps as reality returned to Trista, she did something Jarod would have never expected her to do, she threw herself in his arms and held onto him as if he were her only hope of not drowning in her sorrow, "Oh god, Jarod, I'm sorry. I'm just so scared. What if we never find her? I feel like I am dying inside," she sobbed.

"We will find her," Jarod promised, the conviction in his voice giving hope back to the girl in his arms.

All she could do was nod and try to hold back her tears. She would've stayed in Jarod's sure embrace had she not heard a groan.

Jeremy.

Loud voices pulled him away from the consuming blackness that always seemed to follow him. His head pounded, his throat was dry. All he wanted was a drink of cold water and to disappear into oblivion.

Instead, his mind became more aware of his surroundings; a soft bed, the sound of an air conditioner running and the feel of the cold air blowing against his face. The awareness brought on the realization that he was not alone.

Self-preservation caused him to jump up, his eyes immediately fluttering open and his stance clearly defensive as he stood there in nothing more than pair of loose fitting pajama-like bottoms. He noted quickly that he was in a motel room, not the sterile room that he'd been dragged to in the Centre.

"Who are you?" he demanded, and then stopped when he saw Trista.

He frowned, "Trista?"

She didn't look entirely pleased to see him, which was confusing. Unless … unless somehow she knew, and by the look of betrayal in her eyes, he suspected she did.

She shook her head and her lip curled in disdain, "How could you? You asshole, you let them take my baby," she accused, suddenly flinging herself at him, her hands trying to claw at his face.

Bewildered, Jeremy only subdued her. The man who had been standing by her side pulled her away from him.

Somehow, he quieted her, and then turned back to face Jeremy once again. But by then, Jeremy's mind had begun to work properly and he knew who the man was standing across from him. The entire situation was ludicrous, Jeremy thought, wondering how he could possibly be outside of the Centre's wall and this man before him not be in the Centre's possession.

"I think you already know who I am," Jarod told him.

Jeremy gave him a quick, sullen nod, "What do you want?"

Jarod sized the boy up before him. He was about Jarod's height, though he was thinner than and not as broad as Jarod, it would not do for Jarod to underestimate the boy, and until he knew more about whom his handler had been, he wouldn't put anything past the boy.

"Answers. If I were you, I'd suggest you start talking and quickly. Your daughter's life may be at stake."

Jeremy rolled his eyes, "They would never hurt Caitey. Don't insult my intelligence. We both know my daughter is a valuable commodity and therefore safe," Jeremy turned away to walk out the door, which incidentally he was standing closet to.

Just as he opened the door, a large hand banged the door shut again, Jeremy turned to find Jarod standing there glaring at him.

"Is that how you think of your own child? Property for the Centre to buy and sell? Are you truly that heartless, or just merely naïve?" Jarod asked him disdainfully.

Jeremy glanced over his shoulder to see Trista sitting on the bed, glaring at him, though she remained silent because Jarod had asked her to allow him to handle Jeremy. Clearly she was having trouble not speaking her mind.

"I'm not naïve," Jeremy defended almost petulantly, stepping back away from Jarod's unnerving gaze and presence.

"So in other words, you're a cold, heartless bastard who sold his own daughter to the Centre, for what? A taste of freedom? What was your price, Jeremy?"

"What the hell would you know, Jarod, about what I've been through? You have no idea what my handler is capable of, what he did to me!"

"So you left your defenseless daughter to suffer the same fate you did?" Jarod wanted to beat some sense into Jeremy for what he'd done.

Something akin to horror dawned in Jeremy's dark eyes, "I … I don't know … oh god, what have I done?"

So, Jarod thought, Jeremy did actually care about what happened to Caitlyn. But then the mysterious man's words came back to haunt him.

…Instead of teaching him to be cold and hard, I showed him the value of being human, taught him instead how to make people see only the good in you, to trust you…Jeremy was trained to get past people's defenses, earn their trust and then find their weaknesses…

Was he then just trying to throw Jarod and Trista off?

All Jarod could do was wait and see.

The man who had called himself the Ghost walked down the hallways, a satisfied smile playing across his face. He had finally succeeded in capturing Jarod. How sweet it was to finally taste the fruits of his labor.

Though Jeremy still had his uses, his priority would now be Jarod. A mad gleam came into his emerald eyes as he walked, oh what he could do with that man's genius and abilities. He felt as if, finally for the first time in years, the world was his oyster.

Arriving at the room where Jeremy was being sedated, the man typed in the code that released the locks and walked into the empty room. Dread filled him. He hit the alarm and called for a sweeper team to check Jarod's room. Though he suspected he already knew what they would find.

Lyle and Raines would no be pleased at all. How was he going to explain this failure to them?

Broots was working on breaking the code for Miss Parker, who was currently breathing down his neck, her patience at an end.

Nervousness made him clumsy, which only made Miss Parker all that more impatient with him and that in turn made him that much more nervous. How was he supposed to work like this?

Parker's phone rang, she stepped several feet away to answer it with her customary, "What?!"

Jarod's voice over the line didn't surprise Parker in the least, it just added to her already foul mood.

"Good morning Miss Parker," Jarod greeted her cheerfully, though Miss Parker could have sworn not nearly as cheerfully as usual. Wonder-boy must be slipping.

"What do you want, Jarod?" she snapped.

A humorless chuckle sounded over her cell phone, "I wanted to be the first to congratulate you. Miss Parker," he said in his usual cryptic-ness.

Parker gritted her teeth, waiting for the usual clues that would send her halfway across the country, chasing nothing except for what Jarod wanted her to chase.

"On what, Frankenstein? The fact that I still haven't dragged your ass back to the Centre?"

Jarod feigned shock, "Never that, Miss Parker. No, I wanted to congratulate you on your newfound nephew. You're an aunt, Miss Parker."

She grabbed for a chair and sat down, "What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, praying Jarod wasn't serious.

"Why, Lyle's son of course. You mean, you didn't know?"

It couldn't be, "Lord help me if Lyle has truly spawned," Miss Parker genuinely prayed.

"I guess that means that you didn't know Lyle's son had a child of his own, that makes you a Great Aunt," Jarod snorted.

"Cut the crap, Jarod," Miss Parker snapped, "Is this another one of your sick jokes?"

There was no more derisive humor in Jarod's voice as he replied gently, "Dead serious, Miss Parker."

Click.

Parker could only sit there in silence, her cell phone still being gripped in her hand, her eyes staring vacantly off into the shadows around her.

"Broots," she snapped, bringing herself back to reality, "New priority. Find out who Lyle's son is and what happened to him. Now, Broots," she commanded as she stormed from his office.

Had she bothered to look at Broots' face at her last order, she might have cracked a smile, the incredulity on Broots' face was that comical. Instead she was intent upon finding her dearest brother and finding out what he knew about this supposed son of his.

This time a smile did spread itself across her face. This could be fun, taunting Lyle with the fact that not only was he a father, but a grandfather as well. Oh, this could be sweet indeed.

Lyle wasn't hard to find, he was talking to his beautiful Asian assistant, his head bent close to hers.

"Lyle, quit flirting and come here. We need to talk," Parker ordered.

Mr. Lyle looked up at his twin and gave her a chilling smile before dismissing his assistant and sauntering over to where she stood waiting for her.

"Yes, sister dear?" he inquired.

"I just got a call from wonder-boy and he had the most interesting news to share."

One of Lyle's eyebrows raised, "Oh?"

Parker nodded, "He wanted me to pass his congratulations on to you," she said oh-so-sweetly, relishing the suspense she was putting her brother through.

Lyle's eyes narrowed, "Did he tell you why?"

Again, she nodded, "He wanted to congratulate you on your son, of course and the birth of your granddaughter," Parker tried very hard not to laugh in Lyle's face, it was just too hard not to when he looked so downright shocked.

Lyle only glared at her, "I don't have any children, sister dear, Jarod was messing with your mind."

Parker got herself under control, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, "Whatever you say, Grandpa," Parker burst out laughing again and walked away.

His rage simmering just beneath the surface, Lyle walked over to a wall and hit it with a resounding bang that echoed in the halls.

"Sun Lei," Lyle bellowed, his assistant scurried out of hiding.

"Come with me," he snapped, walking off into his office.