Unexplained
Chapter Four
Questions
Blue Cove, Delaware
Miss Parker strutted down the corridors of the Centre, a mission in mind. She had to find Angelo. He was supposed to be in his pen, but he was no where to be seen. She decided to look in Sydney's plants for Angelo felt quite at home there. He was sitting amongst the flowers, twirling a particularly yellow blossom between his palms. "Angelo..."
He didn't acknowledge her, continuing his examination of the flower. Miss Parker knelt in front of him and gently took the bloom away from him. A cross look flashed across his face before staring up at the offender. "Daughter scared. Friend worried."
"Yes. I'm very scared. Jarod thinks I have another brother. Do I?"
Angelo tilted his head before standing up. He began to gallop around the room, muttering Christmas over and over again. Inside his mind, unbeknownst to Miss Parker, was a memory, one of his few.
The Centre
April 2, 1976
A young Angelo scrunched up between the space in the fans. He loved sitting there; he felt so in control of everything and childish. It was fun. He didn't get to have much fun anymore. Dr. Billy wouldn't let him. He heard a noise on the side of him, in a fan next to his fan. He peeked his head out, searching for the culprit of the sound. A little boy, his age probably, about six , sat there, his head in his hands. Angelo watched him for what seemed like ages before the boy realized that he was being surveyed.
"Oh! I am sorry. I didn't know anyone was here. I'm Andrew."
Angelo was quiet. Andrew continued impatiently, "Didn't you hear me? I'm Andrew. What's your name?"
The question sounded vaguely familiar. Name. That was what he was called.
"Angelo!"
"Angelo. Like Michael Angelo?"
Angelo didn't answer once more, unable to word what he wanted to say. He always had trouble with that, since Dr. Billy made him change.
"Brother scared."
"What? Your brother is scared?"
Angelo shook his head, frustrated. He let out a resounding, "Nooooo!!!!"
Angelo jumped out of the fan duct. "Must find daughter. Daughter will help!"
Andrew lept from his spot, running after Angelo.
"Wait! Where are you going? I didn't mean to scare you. Cripes!"
Angelo had shot down some passage he had no knowledge of. He was also unaware when Angelo returned. Andrew had been left to his own devices, hiding from his father who wanted nothing more than for him to put a gun together and shoot it again. Angelo hadn't been able to find little Miss Parker, so he'd returned to the spot Andrew had been. He was galloping around, making quiet gun shot sounds. "Boom, Boom! I got the robber! Yea!" He galloped around the room at the make believe sound of a horse clip-clopping. Angelo put his hand over his mouth, giggling softly. Andrew never even looked up. *
"Boom, Boom! Boom, Boom! Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!"
Miss Parker sighed, running her hands through her thick raven hair. She was getting no where with Angelo, although he seemed to know what she had been speaking of. "Angelo! Please, listen to me!"
"He's busy, Miss Parker. Can you not see that?"
She turned at the voice and the creaking wheeling of an oxygen tank.
"Mr. Raines."
"You really should call me Dad. I'm proud to be your father."
"Mhm."
"Come here, Angelo."
He had stopped, waiting for Mr. Raines' instructions. He walked obediently to the man. "Where are you taking him?"
"No where in particular."
"No where?"
"Yes. Now come Angelo. Willie?"
The sweeper appeared out of thin air. "Yes?"
"Take Angelo to the jet. Good day, Miss Parker."
She narrowed her eyes, but nodded.
"Good day."
The three made the journey out of the Centre room. Miss Parker snuck behind them, following their every move. Mr. Raines was giving Willie instructions.
"Make sure Angelo gets to Mr. Sloane. And whatever you do, don't let him be distracted."
Willie agreed, being the good lapdog he was, before boarding the plane with the impath. Miss Parker slipped back inside before kicking the door. She'd have to let Angelo go. But she'd find him. She swore she would.
Italy
Sydney Bristow kicked the door open with much flourish. Jarod stood behind her, Vaughn behind him. Sark sat captive in the car, waiting for her to discover what she came for. He truly hoped she captured Sloane. He deserved it after all he'd done to them. Heck, his father deserved to be caught as well. Maybe he'd let Sydney know about the only exhisting branch of the Alliance left, the first branch ever invented, before Sloane had even turn-coated the CIA. There was much she didn't know. But eventually, he'd tell her. For now, he was content waiting inside the car for her to return with more questions. She had disappeared from his view, so he knew she was searching the warehouse for answers she would not find. Yes, that was the last known layer of Sloane, Italy being a favorite country. He would not be there, that much Sark was sure of. Sydney stormed out, her face a mix of fury and disappointment and contempt on her face. Jarod was yelling to her about something, but she didn't seem to be listening. Jarod was another enigma. Sark knew there was some time he had seen Jarod. Suddenly, he was yanked from the car and hit against the hood.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know, Sydney."
She punched his face.
"You told me this was where he would be."
"He was here at one time. Did you find any kind of clues to where he would go from here?"
"Why would I tell you?!"
"Because I can help you find his next hide-out, probably the last one."
"Like you helped me find this one."
She slammed his head against the hood once more and Sark knew he was going to have one awful headache.
"Sydney, I'll play nice if you will."
"What are you talking about?"
He kicked his foot back, connecting behind her knees. He twisted just right, pushing Sydney against the car. He towered over her, despite his handcuffed wrists. "I do have to say I enjoy you in this position."
She pushed her head up, knocking him in the forehead. He flew backwards but rolled when her booted foot came to crash into his ribs. The agents all around them seemed to be waiting for an opening to end the fight, others seemed fascinated. Sark hands were bound, yet he was holding his own. He flipped over, landing on his feet, ducking Sydney's fist. "You shouldn't fight so predictably, Darling."
"Ohhh!!!!!"
She kicked her foot out and he grabbed her ankle, turning her on back. "I told you I'd play nice if you would. You won't seem to."
He felt Vaughn and Bristow pulling him off of Sydney, but he didn't miss the look of admiration that emitted from Sydney's gaze. The entire fight was worth it.
"No, Dad. Let him go."
Jack shook his head adamently, but Sydney persisted. Sark stood in front of Syd, waiting for her next comment. "We have a long ride back. We'll talk of it then. I have to go collect any information I can on Sloane."
She turned, wiping blood from her split lip before reentering the warehouse. Sark sunk back into the plush CIA rented car.
Blue Cove, Delaware
Broots rushed into Miss Parker's office. "Project Christmas was an experiment to see if children could be trained to be spies or assassins. Andrew Raines was the first child to have it tried out on. It worked, and so Mr. Raines sold it to his friend, Arvin Sloane, who used to work at the CIA. He was at the time. Sloane left the CIA, became a wanted terrorist, and is still being searched for. Andrew Raines disappeared after going to boarding school when he was seven. He was six when he was programmed."
"How did you find all that out?"
"Johnny from Research."
Sydney leaned forward, "The one who has an extra thumb?"
"Yeah."
"I'm surprised Mr. Lyle hasn't forced him to give it up."
Broots visibly shuddered at the very thought of the never-ending thumb switch.
"So, the Heptagon? Rambaldi?"
"All I've been able to find on Rambaldi is that he was something of a prophet from several centuries ago. He was tried for heracy and burned at the stake. He left his works behind in many forms and no one has ever collected them all. The Heptagon has come up empty. Nothing. Absolutely nada."
"Lovely."
*Ring, Ring*
"What?"
"Any news on your new baby brother yet, Miss Parker?"
"He's a spy. Or an assassin. Feel like filling any more of the blanks?"
"That would be absolutely no fun. Honestly, I'm surprised you even suggested I do it"
"Right. You couldn't play any mindgames with me that way."
"Have you checked the mail lately? I have the feeling you might get lucky."
"Broots, mail."
"I'll go get it." The dedicated tech left the office as quickly as he had entered it. Sydney leaned back, listening to the conversation.
"And be careful, Parker. The Heptagon is very dangerous. For..."
"Jarod, are you coming? We're about to leave without you!"
A muffled reply came over the cell phone, something that sounded close to, "Yes, Marshall, I'll be there in just a moment."
"For all of us." Jarod finished up.
"What does that...mean?"
Jarod had already clicked off the phone. Parker exchanged a look with Sydney before waiting impatiently for Broots with the mail. He came back with a large box. Miss Parker ripped open the taped flaps and removed a paper-made flower. Her eyes slid shut, remembering the code they had used as children.
The Centre
May 15, 1976
A small Jarod sat across from little Miss Parker. He handed her a flower, bright red with a yellow center.
"Anytime you need me, leave a flower. Red for happy reasons, blue for emergencies, and green for regular things."
Miss Parker held the flower close to her, a brief smile flitting across her face. "This is a great idea, Jarod." She leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek. He blushed shyly which caused Miss Parker to giggle more.*
"Blue with red. A happy emergency."
Broots stared at Miss Parker, unsure of what she was saying.
"Does that mean something to you?"
She nodded, nearly overwhelmed with a memory of one of the moments that she'd been happy after her mother had left. "We need to go to my house. All three of us."
The hard facade fell back into place as she tossed the flower back into the box. Leave it to Jarod to try to make her feel guilty.
Coast of Deserted Beach
James and Bryan smiled in triumph as they found them. The scrolls, carefully protected by a wooden box and cloth bindings, lay next to a deceased Mr. Parker. They'd chased him around the coast, never quite catching up with the older man. Until he slipped, which inevitably he did. With the sweepers waiting for that moment, it was bound to come. He'd accidently left a footprint in the sand on the deserted beach and they had quickly found him. Guns were fired and he had fallen down to the ground with defeat. Now they stood there, James holding them and Bryan with a phone. Bryan dialed the untraceable line to Mr. Raines.
"We found them. Mr. Parker is unfortunately no longer with us, but the scrolls are."
"How terrible." He wheezed, "My poor brother. Killed himself from insanity. Fly the scrolls to Nairobi. Mr. Lyle will be at the airport waiting for them. You may leave the country immediately after that and do not return to Blue Cove."
"Yes, Sir."
"Good work, boys."
"Thank you, Sir."
Bryan hung up before shooting a maliciously evil grin to his partner.
"We're to take them to Africa and make sure Mr. Lyle gets them."
"Happily."
The two hiked on to the town in Madagaskar where the Centre jet waited, fueled for them to deliver the scrolls like good boys.
Chapter Four
Questions
Blue Cove, Delaware
Miss Parker strutted down the corridors of the Centre, a mission in mind. She had to find Angelo. He was supposed to be in his pen, but he was no where to be seen. She decided to look in Sydney's plants for Angelo felt quite at home there. He was sitting amongst the flowers, twirling a particularly yellow blossom between his palms. "Angelo..."
He didn't acknowledge her, continuing his examination of the flower. Miss Parker knelt in front of him and gently took the bloom away from him. A cross look flashed across his face before staring up at the offender. "Daughter scared. Friend worried."
"Yes. I'm very scared. Jarod thinks I have another brother. Do I?"
Angelo tilted his head before standing up. He began to gallop around the room, muttering Christmas over and over again. Inside his mind, unbeknownst to Miss Parker, was a memory, one of his few.
The Centre
April 2, 1976
A young Angelo scrunched up between the space in the fans. He loved sitting there; he felt so in control of everything and childish. It was fun. He didn't get to have much fun anymore. Dr. Billy wouldn't let him. He heard a noise on the side of him, in a fan next to his fan. He peeked his head out, searching for the culprit of the sound. A little boy, his age probably, about six , sat there, his head in his hands. Angelo watched him for what seemed like ages before the boy realized that he was being surveyed.
"Oh! I am sorry. I didn't know anyone was here. I'm Andrew."
Angelo was quiet. Andrew continued impatiently, "Didn't you hear me? I'm Andrew. What's your name?"
The question sounded vaguely familiar. Name. That was what he was called.
"Angelo!"
"Angelo. Like Michael Angelo?"
Angelo didn't answer once more, unable to word what he wanted to say. He always had trouble with that, since Dr. Billy made him change.
"Brother scared."
"What? Your brother is scared?"
Angelo shook his head, frustrated. He let out a resounding, "Nooooo!!!!"
Angelo jumped out of the fan duct. "Must find daughter. Daughter will help!"
Andrew lept from his spot, running after Angelo.
"Wait! Where are you going? I didn't mean to scare you. Cripes!"
Angelo had shot down some passage he had no knowledge of. He was also unaware when Angelo returned. Andrew had been left to his own devices, hiding from his father who wanted nothing more than for him to put a gun together and shoot it again. Angelo hadn't been able to find little Miss Parker, so he'd returned to the spot Andrew had been. He was galloping around, making quiet gun shot sounds. "Boom, Boom! I got the robber! Yea!" He galloped around the room at the make believe sound of a horse clip-clopping. Angelo put his hand over his mouth, giggling softly. Andrew never even looked up. *
"Boom, Boom! Boom, Boom! Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!"
Miss Parker sighed, running her hands through her thick raven hair. She was getting no where with Angelo, although he seemed to know what she had been speaking of. "Angelo! Please, listen to me!"
"He's busy, Miss Parker. Can you not see that?"
She turned at the voice and the creaking wheeling of an oxygen tank.
"Mr. Raines."
"You really should call me Dad. I'm proud to be your father."
"Mhm."
"Come here, Angelo."
He had stopped, waiting for Mr. Raines' instructions. He walked obediently to the man. "Where are you taking him?"
"No where in particular."
"No where?"
"Yes. Now come Angelo. Willie?"
The sweeper appeared out of thin air. "Yes?"
"Take Angelo to the jet. Good day, Miss Parker."
She narrowed her eyes, but nodded.
"Good day."
The three made the journey out of the Centre room. Miss Parker snuck behind them, following their every move. Mr. Raines was giving Willie instructions.
"Make sure Angelo gets to Mr. Sloane. And whatever you do, don't let him be distracted."
Willie agreed, being the good lapdog he was, before boarding the plane with the impath. Miss Parker slipped back inside before kicking the door. She'd have to let Angelo go. But she'd find him. She swore she would.
Italy
Sydney Bristow kicked the door open with much flourish. Jarod stood behind her, Vaughn behind him. Sark sat captive in the car, waiting for her to discover what she came for. He truly hoped she captured Sloane. He deserved it after all he'd done to them. Heck, his father deserved to be caught as well. Maybe he'd let Sydney know about the only exhisting branch of the Alliance left, the first branch ever invented, before Sloane had even turn-coated the CIA. There was much she didn't know. But eventually, he'd tell her. For now, he was content waiting inside the car for her to return with more questions. She had disappeared from his view, so he knew she was searching the warehouse for answers she would not find. Yes, that was the last known layer of Sloane, Italy being a favorite country. He would not be there, that much Sark was sure of. Sydney stormed out, her face a mix of fury and disappointment and contempt on her face. Jarod was yelling to her about something, but she didn't seem to be listening. Jarod was another enigma. Sark knew there was some time he had seen Jarod. Suddenly, he was yanked from the car and hit against the hood.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know, Sydney."
She punched his face.
"You told me this was where he would be."
"He was here at one time. Did you find any kind of clues to where he would go from here?"
"Why would I tell you?!"
"Because I can help you find his next hide-out, probably the last one."
"Like you helped me find this one."
She slammed his head against the hood once more and Sark knew he was going to have one awful headache.
"Sydney, I'll play nice if you will."
"What are you talking about?"
He kicked his foot back, connecting behind her knees. He twisted just right, pushing Sydney against the car. He towered over her, despite his handcuffed wrists. "I do have to say I enjoy you in this position."
She pushed her head up, knocking him in the forehead. He flew backwards but rolled when her booted foot came to crash into his ribs. The agents all around them seemed to be waiting for an opening to end the fight, others seemed fascinated. Sark hands were bound, yet he was holding his own. He flipped over, landing on his feet, ducking Sydney's fist. "You shouldn't fight so predictably, Darling."
"Ohhh!!!!!"
She kicked her foot out and he grabbed her ankle, turning her on back. "I told you I'd play nice if you would. You won't seem to."
He felt Vaughn and Bristow pulling him off of Sydney, but he didn't miss the look of admiration that emitted from Sydney's gaze. The entire fight was worth it.
"No, Dad. Let him go."
Jack shook his head adamently, but Sydney persisted. Sark stood in front of Syd, waiting for her next comment. "We have a long ride back. We'll talk of it then. I have to go collect any information I can on Sloane."
She turned, wiping blood from her split lip before reentering the warehouse. Sark sunk back into the plush CIA rented car.
Blue Cove, Delaware
Broots rushed into Miss Parker's office. "Project Christmas was an experiment to see if children could be trained to be spies or assassins. Andrew Raines was the first child to have it tried out on. It worked, and so Mr. Raines sold it to his friend, Arvin Sloane, who used to work at the CIA. He was at the time. Sloane left the CIA, became a wanted terrorist, and is still being searched for. Andrew Raines disappeared after going to boarding school when he was seven. He was six when he was programmed."
"How did you find all that out?"
"Johnny from Research."
Sydney leaned forward, "The one who has an extra thumb?"
"Yeah."
"I'm surprised Mr. Lyle hasn't forced him to give it up."
Broots visibly shuddered at the very thought of the never-ending thumb switch.
"So, the Heptagon? Rambaldi?"
"All I've been able to find on Rambaldi is that he was something of a prophet from several centuries ago. He was tried for heracy and burned at the stake. He left his works behind in many forms and no one has ever collected them all. The Heptagon has come up empty. Nothing. Absolutely nada."
"Lovely."
*Ring, Ring*
"What?"
"Any news on your new baby brother yet, Miss Parker?"
"He's a spy. Or an assassin. Feel like filling any more of the blanks?"
"That would be absolutely no fun. Honestly, I'm surprised you even suggested I do it"
"Right. You couldn't play any mindgames with me that way."
"Have you checked the mail lately? I have the feeling you might get lucky."
"Broots, mail."
"I'll go get it." The dedicated tech left the office as quickly as he had entered it. Sydney leaned back, listening to the conversation.
"And be careful, Parker. The Heptagon is very dangerous. For..."
"Jarod, are you coming? We're about to leave without you!"
A muffled reply came over the cell phone, something that sounded close to, "Yes, Marshall, I'll be there in just a moment."
"For all of us." Jarod finished up.
"What does that...mean?"
Jarod had already clicked off the phone. Parker exchanged a look with Sydney before waiting impatiently for Broots with the mail. He came back with a large box. Miss Parker ripped open the taped flaps and removed a paper-made flower. Her eyes slid shut, remembering the code they had used as children.
The Centre
May 15, 1976
A small Jarod sat across from little Miss Parker. He handed her a flower, bright red with a yellow center.
"Anytime you need me, leave a flower. Red for happy reasons, blue for emergencies, and green for regular things."
Miss Parker held the flower close to her, a brief smile flitting across her face. "This is a great idea, Jarod." She leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek. He blushed shyly which caused Miss Parker to giggle more.*
"Blue with red. A happy emergency."
Broots stared at Miss Parker, unsure of what she was saying.
"Does that mean something to you?"
She nodded, nearly overwhelmed with a memory of one of the moments that she'd been happy after her mother had left. "We need to go to my house. All three of us."
The hard facade fell back into place as she tossed the flower back into the box. Leave it to Jarod to try to make her feel guilty.
Coast of Deserted Beach
James and Bryan smiled in triumph as they found them. The scrolls, carefully protected by a wooden box and cloth bindings, lay next to a deceased Mr. Parker. They'd chased him around the coast, never quite catching up with the older man. Until he slipped, which inevitably he did. With the sweepers waiting for that moment, it was bound to come. He'd accidently left a footprint in the sand on the deserted beach and they had quickly found him. Guns were fired and he had fallen down to the ground with defeat. Now they stood there, James holding them and Bryan with a phone. Bryan dialed the untraceable line to Mr. Raines.
"We found them. Mr. Parker is unfortunately no longer with us, but the scrolls are."
"How terrible." He wheezed, "My poor brother. Killed himself from insanity. Fly the scrolls to Nairobi. Mr. Lyle will be at the airport waiting for them. You may leave the country immediately after that and do not return to Blue Cove."
"Yes, Sir."
"Good work, boys."
"Thank you, Sir."
Bryan hung up before shooting a maliciously evil grin to his partner.
"We're to take them to Africa and make sure Mr. Lyle gets them."
"Happily."
The two hiked on to the town in Madagaskar where the Centre jet waited, fueled for them to deliver the scrolls like good boys.
