THE PRETENDER
The Silent Enemy
Chapter Two
Sydney's House
The afternoon light poured in through the upstairs window, casting shadows across the wood furnishings. It lent a warm glow to an already pleasant room, and yet he had grown weary of it. After two months in the hospital following the mysterious attack on him, and then another month in rehab at a local facility, Sydney was close to stir crazy. His progress had been painful and slow. Moving even his upper body was still a chore, the sore stiffness of his muscles often proving more than he could bear, and he was as yet unable to stand on his own.
He peered through the window, and observed the Centre security cars parked out front. Almost four months had gone by since the explosion in the warehouse, and they were no closer to knowing who had sent the email in Jarod's name. Parker had insisted on the 24 hour surveillance, and he didn't have the strength to argue with her. Sydney shifted uncomfortably in his chair; he needed to move, but didn't want to yell for the day nurse. A moment later, he heard a car door slam shut in the driveway, and he closed his eyes. Parker. Despite his protestations for the past three weeks, she had insisted on moving into his house and assuming the responsibility of looking after him at night.
Why she had made such a choice was a mystery to Sydney, although his best guess was that she simply did not trust anyone else to protect him after dark. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was Parker's way of showing her fondness of him. He tried to shift slightly in his chair, and winced in pain; his muscles would wait no longer, and perhaps it would do him good to attempt to stand on his own. Pushing himself up on shaking arms, Sydney stood, only to crumple to the floor a moment later.
Parker was in mid-sentence with the day nurse when she heard the thud on the floor above. She sprinted up the stairs, the tall male nurse right on her heels.
Sydney! Sydney!
She opened the door to his room, to find him in a heap on the floor. Anger shot across her face as she bent down to pick the psychiatrist up.
Damnit, Sydney, what did you think you were doing?
His voice was a little raspy, Trying to stand up, I believe....
That's not funny, Freud.
Together, the nurse and Parker lifted him to the bed, and gently sat him on the edge. Sydney tottered slightly, and Parker sat down next to him, allowing him to lean on her for support. She turned toward the male nurse.
Thanks Joe, I've got him from here. We'll see you in the morning.
If you're sure, Miss Parker....
Yes, we'll be fine, as long as Dr. Kildare here doesn't try any more fancy weight lifting moves.
Joe turned for the door, but Parker's voice stopped him.
Oh, Joe...do me a favor, will you?
Can you send my......assistant Sam up here?
No problem, Miss Parker.
Parker turned to Sydney, anger in her timbre, What in the hell were you thinking? You could have hurt yourself.
Could have, but didn't.
Yes, well....
Sydney moved slightly, trying to loosen the muscles of his neck, causing him to grimace in pain.
Parker softened,
He nodded, squeezing his neck slightly.
The doctor said you'd continue to have soreness in your back and neck until you're a little more mobile.
Sam entered the room, and Parker smiled, Sam, good....help me get Sydney into bed.
Yes ma'am.
Sam and Parker carefully removed the doctor's shirt, and moved him so that he was lying on his stomach.
Sam, in the bathroom you'll find a bottle of liniment on the sink, can you bring it please?
Sam exited to get the bottle and Parker turned to Sydney.
Okay Freud, lose the pillows, you need to lie flat.
She tossed the pillows to the floor, and gently placed his arms down at his sides.
I don't want to hear any complaints. It'll hurt for awhile, but then you'll feel better and you know it. You're like a five year old sometimes, you know that?
Am not.
Are too.
Sam interrupted the argument.
Here you go, Miss Parker.
Thanks Sam.....
Do you need anything else?
No, not right now, thanks. Is the back door covered?
Yes ma'am.
Fine. You're on the front.
Yes Miss Parker.
Sam left once more, and Parker poured some liniment oil into her hands, rubbing them together to warm the liquid slightly. She began running her hands gently up and down Sydney's back, slowly kneading the muscles, concentrating on the tightness in his shoulders. He groaned in pain at first, but slowly started to ease as Parker worked out the stiffness, and the grimaces gradually turned to moans of relaxation. Parker moved her hands up to his neck, gently massaging away the tension.
Her voice was low and calm, Feel better?
Joe wore you out today.....
His voice was filled with impending slumber, Yes, he's trying to build up strength....
Sydney's timbre was throaty,
Parker's hands slowed to gentle circles on his upper back, lulling him into a peaceful repose. Carefully she covered him with the comforter, and quietly slipped from the room.
****************
Sydney had been asleep for several hours upstairs, and Parker was curled on the floor in front of the fire. The ice in the vodka glass clinked as it melted further down into the tumbler. She stared into the flames wondering why Sydney's assailant had made no further attempts at contact. It was curious, and every instinct within her told her that it was only a matter of time. The shrill ring of her cell made her jump. Annoyed, she grabbed the phone.
Good evening to you too, Miss Parker.
She closed her eyes, annoyance growing into aggravation, Jarod. What do you want?
How is he?
A little better, I think. Joe's been working on his upper body strength.
He's still too pale, is he eating?
Who told you that?
I have my sources, Miss Parker.
--look, the reason I'm calling--
--yes, monkey boy, please do cut to the chase.
I wanted to let you know that I've finally traced the email that was sent to Sydney all those months ago.
It was routed through hundreds of thousands of servers, but you were right: it emanated from the Centre.
Could you pinpoint who?
Not the who, but the where. It was a terminal on SL-24.
24? That's impossible. There's been nothing on SL-24 for at least ten years.
Well, I suggest you check it out tomorrow and see what's down there.
Parker suppressed a shiver,
Good night, Miss Parker.
She hesitated then said, Hey, Jarod?
But it was too late, the pretender had already terminated the call. Parker set the phone down, and decided she should check on Sydney. Stretching her legs as she rose, Parker walked up the stairs. She quietly opened the door to Sydney's bedroom and peered inside. The psychiatrist was twisted up in the comforter, tossing in his sleep. Parker frowned and quickly moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She gently shook Sydney's shoulders with her hands.
Sydney....Sydney, wake up. C'mon, wake up.
His eyes opened wide in terror,
Parker pulled Sydney's shaking body close to hers and held him.
Hey, take it easy, you're okay. It's just a bad dream, Syd, that's all.
She felt Sydney's arms pull tightly around her, seeking comfort. Parker wrapped an arm firmly around his waist and with the other pulled his head to rest on her shoulder. Sydney cuddled into her neck, shivering from cold or fear, Parker wasn't sure which. A moment later she lay him back down on the bed, covering him with the comforter. He reached up and stroked her cheek with his hand. Embarrassed, Parker busied herself adjusting the covers around him once again.
You'll catch a chill if you're not careful, Syd.
He said nothing, but continued to stroke her face, looking deeply into her eyes. Parker could see the tension that was still in his face from the nightmare, and the unsettled look in the haunted orbs of chestnut. She caught the hand brushing her face in her own, squeezing it slightly.
Do you want to tell me about it?
He shook his head, pulling his hand free from hers. His eyes finally broke their gaze from her face, and instead, focused on the arm that he had begun to nervously rub with his hand. Once again, Parker gently took his hand in hers.
Do you need something to help you sleep?
The troubled eyes looked into hers, and he shook his head. Parker set the hand she held under the covers and tucked him in tightly.
If you change your mind, I'm just across the hall, okay?
Sydney nodded, and the hollowness in the normally warm rounds of chestnut echoed in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed it down, and forced a smile to her lips when she looked at him. She ran a hand across his brow and placed a soft kiss on his forehead as she stood up to go.
Get some sleep, Freud, I'm sure Joe will put you through your paces again tomorrow. He thinks you might be standing on your own by the end of the week.
Once again, Sydney only nodded, and Parker's gut wrenched in worry. He had been reluctant to open up about the explosion, and she could see it was beginning to wear on his tightly pulled thread of sanity. Parker glanced back at the taunt face before she turned out the lights and closed the door.
