I just want to thank everyone for all of their support, it has been
wonderful. Onisius.....where would I be without you? I am glad you are
taking this journey with me, but I am afraid you may not like where it is
going. I no longer seem to have any choice in the matter....it has taken on a
sinister life of its own.......
Chapter 5
SL-27
Jarod awoke to the feeling of the warm sunshine streaming in through the windows. He reached over only to find the bed empty next to him. He was about to rise when she walked in through the door, carrying a brightly wrapped parcel in her hands. He could not help but to admire how beautiful she looked. Her hair was still tousled and her silk nightgown hung open provocatively. Even after all this time, he never tired of looking at her.
"Happy birthday sleepyhead". She graced him with a glorious smile and leaned over to kiss him. He grabbed her and she fell onto the bed with a laugh.
"I love you Parker" He said simply.
"I know" She replied. "Open the gift."
Emotions welled up in him and he was struggling to keep his composure. He looked at the present. Tears brimmed over and splashed on the package.
Parker was alarmed at his response. "What's wrong?"
He was crying softly now.
"It's just that I,.... I've never received a birthday present before. For so long I......I never even knew when my birthday was."
She embraced him tenderly.
"What are you talking about?" She was clearly confused.
He began to open the gift, but his fingers were trembling.
"Here, let me" She smiled at him gently and took the parcel. She unwrapped it and raised it so that he could see.
His eyes slid from her eyes down to her hands, lingering slightly on the swell of her breasts. He gasped as he saw what she was holding. His mind could scarcely comprehend it. He backed up against the bedhead whispering "No."
"Happy birthday ratboy!" She smiled calmly and then shot him point blank in the chest.
Jarod awoke with a startled cry. He was breathing heavily and sobbing. He tried to lift his head. But he found the effort was too much for him. He cracked open his eyes. He seemed to be lying in some kind of shower block. Everything was blindly white. As he tried to move, he realised that his entire body ached and nausea hit him that was so severe he nearly passed out. He let out a groan and then started to heave violently. The last food that he had consumed was the three doughnuts sometime earlier that day. If it was indeed still the same day. The retching was so violent that he would not have been surprised if he had seen his feet spew forth. But there was nothing to come up and finally he collapsed back to the floor in complete exhaustion.
He did not know how long that he lay there for. He was shivering violently and his stomach was still convulsing weakly. He thought perhaps he was dying. He huddled himself into a tight ball and sobbed miserably. He did not notice the figure approach.
"Jarod" The voice was gentle. A hand reached out to stroke the damp hair off his forehead. The Pretender had not even opened his eyes, had barely recognized the voice. But the feel of that gloved hand snapped him back to reality with a terrifying start. He scrambled backwards.
"No" He croaked out.
"Shh, Jarod. I am not going to hurt you." Lyle was on the floor now, leaning over him. He was solicitous. He took a damp, and mercifully cool cloth and gently wiped it across Jarod's face.
"Jarod, you have been ill, I am here to help. No harm will come to you while I am here. I promise." Jarod kept inching backwards, but now he was backed up against a wall. He looked up at Lyle with hatred in his eyes, remembering what Lyle had done to him the last time he was here. He tried to speak, but only a hoarse croak came out.
"Here, drink this." Lyle offered a plastic cup of clear liquid to Jarod.
The Pretender made no effort to take it and continued to glare at Lyle. Lyle sighed and took a long drink from the cup.
"It's safe. See. I told you. I am not going to hurt you." He sighed. "I don't blame you for not trusting me." A wry smile twisted his lips. "Drink it, it will make you feel better." He placed the cup in front of Jarod and retreated to the other side of the room.
Jarod was still glaring at Lyle. Hostility and suspicion radiated from him. But as Lyle watched, the suspicion changed to confusion. After about ten minutes in silence, Jarod tentatively reached out for the cup and sniffed it. He looked at Lyle once more, who gave a small nod of encouragement, and finally drank it's contents. He put the cup down with a grateful sigh and managed "More?"
Lyle moved over to refill the cup. He was careful to keep the glee he was feeling out of his face. He planted himself on the floor in front of Jarod and refilled the cup.
"Take it slowly, give your body time to adjust." Lyle watched Jarod finish the drink and was not surprised when he started convulsing. He stood up and reached for Jarod, who cringed back.
"Let me help you."
Jarod no longer cared about Lyle. His stomach was ejecting the water he had just consumed. Lyle half dragged him over to a toilet bowl and then proceeded to massage his shoulders after Jarod had finished throwing up. Jarod rested his head against the bowl. He was entirely spent and too exhausted to wonder about Lyle's motives. The gentle massaging was bliss and he allowed himself to relax. He soon drifted into an exhausted sleep.
When Lyle was sure that Jarod was asleep, he got up and left the room and signalled sweepers to get Jarod cleaned up and taken back to his cell. As he made his way back to the surveillance room, he could not help but smile to himself. This was going to work. And it was going to be so much more satisfying than playing with jumper cables.
He entered the small room to see a broad smile on Cox's face as well.
"Did you see that?"
Cox answered with his own grin. "It was a thing of beauty."
Project Jarod was underway. They would get their Pretender back to work and Lyle's star would ascend.
Later, Jarod's cell SL-27
Jarod awoke slowly. He tried to resist the tug back to awareness, but he was terribly uncomfortable. He opened his eyes and noticed he was back in the small bare cell they had originally left him in. His clothes were gone, replaced with the standard Centre issue grey pyjama-like ensemble. His feet were bare. He shifted himself into a sitting position, propping his back against the wall. He felt much better, but was exhausted. The nausea was gone and most of the pain was bearable. He looked at his wrists. This was where the worst of the damage had been inflicted. They were a mangled mess. There were deep indents and ragged cuts, now with dark bruises starting to show. He reached up to his face and felt the scratchy stubble. He wondered what time it was, what day it was. How long had he been here.
But most disturbing of all, were the dreams. He' d had so many of them. Many of them about what they had been doing to him here. But he couldn't separate the dreams from the reality. He decided that the fact that he had remained, more or less, unmolested, meant that a lot of what he thought he had experienced was probably just a dream as well. He realised abruptly that he was very hungry. His thoughts fled back to the doughnuts that he had last ate. They weren't Miami doughnuts, but they were good. His stomach grumbled at the thought of them. He sighed. He doubted very much if he would be getting any doughnuts, or anything remotely palatable, any time soon.
As if on cue, he heard the lock disengage. Sam came in carrying a tray and a bucket. He was followed by Cox.
"Good morning Jarod. How are we doing today?" Cox was almost cheery.
Sam placed the bucket in the far corner of the room and placed the tray on the ground in front of the sitting Pretender. "Bon appetite." Sam chortled as he saw the look on Jarod's face as he looked at the green slop in the bowl.
Jarod looked from the bowl to Cox's face. "We are doing fine" He mumbled under his breath.
"Well, I am very pleased to hear that. Finish your breakfast, we have lots to do today." He looked down at the bowl and smiled. They left the cell, with Jarod staring at the heavy door as it banged shut. He was tempted to pick up the bowl of mess and throw it.
Instead, he picked it up, along with a plastic spoon they had so thoughtfully provided and proceeded to eat his breakfast. He closed his eyes at the first swallow. The familiar texture, smell and taste made him want to gag. This was the only food he had known for most of his life. And now he found it repugnant. He forced himself to swallow, knowing that this would probably be the only type of food he would get while he remained in The Centre. He was already craving for the sweet tastes of his beloved Pez. He finished the gloppy mess and washed it down with the bottle of water that was also on the tray.
After the unsatisfying meal was finished, he went through a gentle exercise routine of stretches. He was still very sore and weak, but he figured a light workout would help with his abused muscles. After he finished his routine, he relieved himself in the bucket. This was distasteful, but they had left him with no other choice.
He turned his attention back to the cell, for a more careful inspection. But there was nothing to look at. They hadn't even given him a blanket or a mattress. There was the air vent, but he knew that if he made a move towards that, they would be in here in no time at all. It looked big enough to accommodate his size, if somehow the cameras could be looped or disabled, or if he could learn the shifts of those he assumed were assigned to watch him. Perhaps he could find a window of opportunity.
His mind then turned to Sydney. He wondered if Sydney knew that he had been captured. Why hadn't he come to see him? Would they let him come? His mind then made the next logical step. Miss Parker. He wondered if she was watching him. Had she popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate her victory? He felt his chest tighten at the thought of her, and the dream came rushing back. She had shot him. His brain was reluctant to process this factoid. Even sitting in the cold harsh reality of the cell, he was still in denial.
The door clanged open again, Willie and Sam entered. A pair of handcuffs were dangling from Sam's outstretched hand. "We can do it the easy way....or ....you decide."
Jarod got up and backed into the corner. He looked from Willie to Sam. He knew it was futile, but it didn't stop him.
"Alright then, the hard way", Sam did not look the least bit disappointed.
The ensuing struggle was brief and ended with Jarod face down on the floor with Willie's foot on the back of his neck and Sam's knee in his back as he snapped the cuffs onto Jarod's already raw wrists. Jarod moaned in pain and Sam ground his knee further into the Pretender's back. They yanked him to his feet and another cry escaped him.
They dragged him down the hall and Jarod was not surprised to see that he was back in the same room with the surgical table. Cox was standing by it, waiting patiently. Lyle was nowhere in sight.
"Now tell me Jarod, how are we going to do this today?"
Jarod sighed in resignation and relaxed in the arms of his captors. As he felt their grips relax, he wrenched himself free, unmindful of the shooting pain in his wrists, and launched himself at Cox. His shoulder slammed full force into Cox's chest, knocking the slim man off his feet. He went down with Jarod on top of him.
"Get him off! Get him off of me!" Cox was bellowing.
Jarod was lifted off the screaming man by his hair. He screamed in agony and tried to shake the grip loose. But then Sam was there and punched him in the stomach. Willie let go of his hair and Jarod crumpled helplessly to the floor, struggling to catch his breath.
Cox was on his feet now and had recovered his composure. He looked at the two sweepers and whispered menacingly. "You ever allow him to touch me again, you will trade places with him. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir" Came back in unison.
They lifted Jarod to the table and dropped him heavily on it. He moaned as they unlocked the cuffs and then secured him to the table, more tightly than was necessary. He didn't bother to struggle.
"I thought we cleared this up yesterday. Mr Lyle assures me that you are a smart man. But I must say, I am beginning to wonder" he turned to retrieve a syringe.
"Sam", He nodded towards Jarod's head.
"What do you want?" He ground out through clenched teeth as Sam's grip tightened.
"For the moment. Obedience." He then emptied the contents of the syringe into Jarod's arm.
The drug took effect almost immediately, and Jarod was running from demons only he could see. Lyle entered the room and looked down at Jarod, thrashing against the restraints.
"How many more sessions do you think?" Lyle was watching Jarod in a kind of sick fascination.
"I believe four days to a week, four times a day, should be enough. I was not expecting him to resist so forcefully today, so I may have to revise my estimates. We shall see. But I am expecting a cumulative effect."
"I want Sydney down here for the next session. We need to prime him. He needs to understand his place, and I think that a graphic demonstration will be the most effective." Lyle could not tear his eyes from the moaning struggling man. He shivered. "Wouldn't wanna be in his shoes."
Cox looked up from the notes he had been taking. He smiled and shot a meaningful glance at the two sweepers. "Indeed not."
Jarod awoke again on the cold tiles in the shower block. He was again violently ill. But this time it was far worse. Lyle was there. Gently stroking his hair, rubbing the back of his neck, whispering meaningless words of comfort. Jarod gratefully accepted the water Lyle offered. He was so sick and so pathetically grateful, that for the moment, he forgot that he hated him. The water was good, somewhere deep in his brain he knew that it wasn't just water, there was something in it. Something that countered the effects of what Cox was doing to him. But he didn't care. It offered relief, and that was all that mattered. He finally fell asleep with his head in Lyle's lap.
He awoke again in his cell and was soon dragged back to the room. This pattern continued throughout the day and night. Jarod had no idea how many times he had been on the table now. It didn't matter, it was all just one big blur. There were vague memories of struggles with sweepers, curses hurled at Cox. And the nightmares. The nightmares were horrendous. They were chasing him while he was awake now. He was no longer able to differentiate reality from the drug induced state.
The only respite was in the showers. Lyle was always there. Always gentle and soothing. Lyle was the only one who didn't offer him pain. This thought struck Jarod as rather incongruous. He knew that it had not always been so, but he could not remember why he feared Lyle. And in his present condition, he decided it was not worth the effort to pursue.
As the weekend passed, with each session, Jarod's attempts at resistance faded away. He no longer seemed capable of any kind of independent thinking. When they entered his cell, he stood calmly as he allowed them to cuff him. He shambled along and then allowed them to restrain him on the table without any complaint. The severity of his nightmares under the influence of the drug seemed to be increasing, judging by the way he thrashed about and cried out. And he was pathetically grateful to see Lyle. At one stage he crawled over and grabbed Lyle's legs and started sobbing. Lyle smiled and stroked his hair as if he were a beloved puppy.
Jarod was back in his cell and Lyle and Cox were watching him on the monitors.
"I think it's time that Sydney got a look at our handiwork" Cox said to Lyle. He was very clearly pleased with himself.
"Yes. I will call him in for the next session. Raines will be there too." Lyle was distracted. Cox turned to look at him.
"What's wrong? Are you not happy with the results?" Cox was clearly perplexed by Lyle's displeasure. Lyle cricked his neck back and forth. He was massaging the stump of his missing thumb.
"I just didn't expect him to ...fold so quickly. I mean, it hasn't been three days....and look at him." He said with disgust.
Cox nodded his head in understanding.
"Oh, don't worry. That's not really Jarod. It's the drugs. This is why we can't keep him drugged if we want him to do the simulations. He has had the drug in his system for over 48 hours now. I bet he feels as if he has been here for years." Cox snickered at that thought. "Once the drugs are completely removed from his system, he will return more or less to his former self. He should be somewhat more malleable, but I am expecting him to fight us with everything he's got."
"How much will he remember of what happened here?" Lyle was curious.
"Not specifics. But we are conditioning him to fear me, and to turn to you for comfort. Poison-induced learning is one of the most powerful and effective forms of learning there is. This will cause a ripple in his drug- free psyche. Everything he knows demands that he is afraid of you, and that he hates you. But the seed has been planted. The one whispering to him, telling him that you are his protector, his friend. This, with the correct reinforcements, will eventually rip him apart. That is when we move in and restructure his world." Cox's last statement was only a whisper.
"Surely just a few days of pain, sickness and misery..."
"Oh, this is just the beginning. We are just peeling back the first layer. We slowly dismantle his entire world, strip him of every emotional support he has ever known. He has borne much in his life, and his defences are formidable, and it is for that reason that when they finally come down, it will be spectacular."
Both men were watching the monitors. Lyle whispered "Soon Jarod, soon."
Miss Parker's House
Miss Parker had woken late in afternoon. She had a very bad hangover and her body was stiff from lying in an uncomfortable position on the couch. A train was running through her head. She made her way gingerly to the kitchen and made herself a coffee. After a second cup and some aspirin, she felt a tiny bit more prepared to deal with the day.
A shower was next on the agenda. She was almost on the way back to half human when the phone rang. And for a brief moment, she was sure it was Jarod. Just like him to ring while she was in the shower. As she was turning the water off, the absurdity of the thought struck her. She wrapped herself in a towel and listened as the machine picked it up. It was Sydney. No surprise there.
"Parker....if you are there....Parker, please pick up. I need to talk to you....."
"I just bet you do Freud" She replied to the machine.
But she was in no mood, or condition to be playing with the headshrinker today. She wandered back to the kitchen. Her stomach was demanding all her attention now. She hadn't eaten anything in more than 24 hours. She busied herself with the preparation of the meal. Not allowing her thoughts to drift where she did not want them going. She sighed, this was going to be a very long weekend. She ate her meal and cleaned up the mess. She threw the empty scotch bottle in the bin.
It was late afternoon and there was a chill in the air. She stoked up the fireplace and then sat back to stare at the flames. She did not want to think about anything, the headache was still there and she just wanted a peaceful evening. She could not remember the last time she knew that there would be no call that would send her scuttling halfway across the country on some wild goose chase. This was really her first day off in six years and she was determined to enjoy the serenity. She would deal with all the rest later. But didn't she deserve at least one day to herself?
The phone rang again, intruding on her thoughts.
"Parker.....we need to talk......pick up dammit......." She looked at the phone but made no move to answer it. Raines could wait until Monday.
"....alright then......Monday. Good job you did yesterday." He tried to sound appeasing, but Parker had a sinking feeling. She sighed heavily. Would there never be any peace?
Her eyes sought out the flames and she allowed her thoughts drift about under their hypnotic lull. Random images from her past floated through her mind. Images of happier times and she allowed herself to be carried away by them.
Chapter 5
SL-27
Jarod awoke to the feeling of the warm sunshine streaming in through the windows. He reached over only to find the bed empty next to him. He was about to rise when she walked in through the door, carrying a brightly wrapped parcel in her hands. He could not help but to admire how beautiful she looked. Her hair was still tousled and her silk nightgown hung open provocatively. Even after all this time, he never tired of looking at her.
"Happy birthday sleepyhead". She graced him with a glorious smile and leaned over to kiss him. He grabbed her and she fell onto the bed with a laugh.
"I love you Parker" He said simply.
"I know" She replied. "Open the gift."
Emotions welled up in him and he was struggling to keep his composure. He looked at the present. Tears brimmed over and splashed on the package.
Parker was alarmed at his response. "What's wrong?"
He was crying softly now.
"It's just that I,.... I've never received a birthday present before. For so long I......I never even knew when my birthday was."
She embraced him tenderly.
"What are you talking about?" She was clearly confused.
He began to open the gift, but his fingers were trembling.
"Here, let me" She smiled at him gently and took the parcel. She unwrapped it and raised it so that he could see.
His eyes slid from her eyes down to her hands, lingering slightly on the swell of her breasts. He gasped as he saw what she was holding. His mind could scarcely comprehend it. He backed up against the bedhead whispering "No."
"Happy birthday ratboy!" She smiled calmly and then shot him point blank in the chest.
Jarod awoke with a startled cry. He was breathing heavily and sobbing. He tried to lift his head. But he found the effort was too much for him. He cracked open his eyes. He seemed to be lying in some kind of shower block. Everything was blindly white. As he tried to move, he realised that his entire body ached and nausea hit him that was so severe he nearly passed out. He let out a groan and then started to heave violently. The last food that he had consumed was the three doughnuts sometime earlier that day. If it was indeed still the same day. The retching was so violent that he would not have been surprised if he had seen his feet spew forth. But there was nothing to come up and finally he collapsed back to the floor in complete exhaustion.
He did not know how long that he lay there for. He was shivering violently and his stomach was still convulsing weakly. He thought perhaps he was dying. He huddled himself into a tight ball and sobbed miserably. He did not notice the figure approach.
"Jarod" The voice was gentle. A hand reached out to stroke the damp hair off his forehead. The Pretender had not even opened his eyes, had barely recognized the voice. But the feel of that gloved hand snapped him back to reality with a terrifying start. He scrambled backwards.
"No" He croaked out.
"Shh, Jarod. I am not going to hurt you." Lyle was on the floor now, leaning over him. He was solicitous. He took a damp, and mercifully cool cloth and gently wiped it across Jarod's face.
"Jarod, you have been ill, I am here to help. No harm will come to you while I am here. I promise." Jarod kept inching backwards, but now he was backed up against a wall. He looked up at Lyle with hatred in his eyes, remembering what Lyle had done to him the last time he was here. He tried to speak, but only a hoarse croak came out.
"Here, drink this." Lyle offered a plastic cup of clear liquid to Jarod.
The Pretender made no effort to take it and continued to glare at Lyle. Lyle sighed and took a long drink from the cup.
"It's safe. See. I told you. I am not going to hurt you." He sighed. "I don't blame you for not trusting me." A wry smile twisted his lips. "Drink it, it will make you feel better." He placed the cup in front of Jarod and retreated to the other side of the room.
Jarod was still glaring at Lyle. Hostility and suspicion radiated from him. But as Lyle watched, the suspicion changed to confusion. After about ten minutes in silence, Jarod tentatively reached out for the cup and sniffed it. He looked at Lyle once more, who gave a small nod of encouragement, and finally drank it's contents. He put the cup down with a grateful sigh and managed "More?"
Lyle moved over to refill the cup. He was careful to keep the glee he was feeling out of his face. He planted himself on the floor in front of Jarod and refilled the cup.
"Take it slowly, give your body time to adjust." Lyle watched Jarod finish the drink and was not surprised when he started convulsing. He stood up and reached for Jarod, who cringed back.
"Let me help you."
Jarod no longer cared about Lyle. His stomach was ejecting the water he had just consumed. Lyle half dragged him over to a toilet bowl and then proceeded to massage his shoulders after Jarod had finished throwing up. Jarod rested his head against the bowl. He was entirely spent and too exhausted to wonder about Lyle's motives. The gentle massaging was bliss and he allowed himself to relax. He soon drifted into an exhausted sleep.
When Lyle was sure that Jarod was asleep, he got up and left the room and signalled sweepers to get Jarod cleaned up and taken back to his cell. As he made his way back to the surveillance room, he could not help but smile to himself. This was going to work. And it was going to be so much more satisfying than playing with jumper cables.
He entered the small room to see a broad smile on Cox's face as well.
"Did you see that?"
Cox answered with his own grin. "It was a thing of beauty."
Project Jarod was underway. They would get their Pretender back to work and Lyle's star would ascend.
Later, Jarod's cell SL-27
Jarod awoke slowly. He tried to resist the tug back to awareness, but he was terribly uncomfortable. He opened his eyes and noticed he was back in the small bare cell they had originally left him in. His clothes were gone, replaced with the standard Centre issue grey pyjama-like ensemble. His feet were bare. He shifted himself into a sitting position, propping his back against the wall. He felt much better, but was exhausted. The nausea was gone and most of the pain was bearable. He looked at his wrists. This was where the worst of the damage had been inflicted. They were a mangled mess. There were deep indents and ragged cuts, now with dark bruises starting to show. He reached up to his face and felt the scratchy stubble. He wondered what time it was, what day it was. How long had he been here.
But most disturbing of all, were the dreams. He' d had so many of them. Many of them about what they had been doing to him here. But he couldn't separate the dreams from the reality. He decided that the fact that he had remained, more or less, unmolested, meant that a lot of what he thought he had experienced was probably just a dream as well. He realised abruptly that he was very hungry. His thoughts fled back to the doughnuts that he had last ate. They weren't Miami doughnuts, but they were good. His stomach grumbled at the thought of them. He sighed. He doubted very much if he would be getting any doughnuts, or anything remotely palatable, any time soon.
As if on cue, he heard the lock disengage. Sam came in carrying a tray and a bucket. He was followed by Cox.
"Good morning Jarod. How are we doing today?" Cox was almost cheery.
Sam placed the bucket in the far corner of the room and placed the tray on the ground in front of the sitting Pretender. "Bon appetite." Sam chortled as he saw the look on Jarod's face as he looked at the green slop in the bowl.
Jarod looked from the bowl to Cox's face. "We are doing fine" He mumbled under his breath.
"Well, I am very pleased to hear that. Finish your breakfast, we have lots to do today." He looked down at the bowl and smiled. They left the cell, with Jarod staring at the heavy door as it banged shut. He was tempted to pick up the bowl of mess and throw it.
Instead, he picked it up, along with a plastic spoon they had so thoughtfully provided and proceeded to eat his breakfast. He closed his eyes at the first swallow. The familiar texture, smell and taste made him want to gag. This was the only food he had known for most of his life. And now he found it repugnant. He forced himself to swallow, knowing that this would probably be the only type of food he would get while he remained in The Centre. He was already craving for the sweet tastes of his beloved Pez. He finished the gloppy mess and washed it down with the bottle of water that was also on the tray.
After the unsatisfying meal was finished, he went through a gentle exercise routine of stretches. He was still very sore and weak, but he figured a light workout would help with his abused muscles. After he finished his routine, he relieved himself in the bucket. This was distasteful, but they had left him with no other choice.
He turned his attention back to the cell, for a more careful inspection. But there was nothing to look at. They hadn't even given him a blanket or a mattress. There was the air vent, but he knew that if he made a move towards that, they would be in here in no time at all. It looked big enough to accommodate his size, if somehow the cameras could be looped or disabled, or if he could learn the shifts of those he assumed were assigned to watch him. Perhaps he could find a window of opportunity.
His mind then turned to Sydney. He wondered if Sydney knew that he had been captured. Why hadn't he come to see him? Would they let him come? His mind then made the next logical step. Miss Parker. He wondered if she was watching him. Had she popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate her victory? He felt his chest tighten at the thought of her, and the dream came rushing back. She had shot him. His brain was reluctant to process this factoid. Even sitting in the cold harsh reality of the cell, he was still in denial.
The door clanged open again, Willie and Sam entered. A pair of handcuffs were dangling from Sam's outstretched hand. "We can do it the easy way....or ....you decide."
Jarod got up and backed into the corner. He looked from Willie to Sam. He knew it was futile, but it didn't stop him.
"Alright then, the hard way", Sam did not look the least bit disappointed.
The ensuing struggle was brief and ended with Jarod face down on the floor with Willie's foot on the back of his neck and Sam's knee in his back as he snapped the cuffs onto Jarod's already raw wrists. Jarod moaned in pain and Sam ground his knee further into the Pretender's back. They yanked him to his feet and another cry escaped him.
They dragged him down the hall and Jarod was not surprised to see that he was back in the same room with the surgical table. Cox was standing by it, waiting patiently. Lyle was nowhere in sight.
"Now tell me Jarod, how are we going to do this today?"
Jarod sighed in resignation and relaxed in the arms of his captors. As he felt their grips relax, he wrenched himself free, unmindful of the shooting pain in his wrists, and launched himself at Cox. His shoulder slammed full force into Cox's chest, knocking the slim man off his feet. He went down with Jarod on top of him.
"Get him off! Get him off of me!" Cox was bellowing.
Jarod was lifted off the screaming man by his hair. He screamed in agony and tried to shake the grip loose. But then Sam was there and punched him in the stomach. Willie let go of his hair and Jarod crumpled helplessly to the floor, struggling to catch his breath.
Cox was on his feet now and had recovered his composure. He looked at the two sweepers and whispered menacingly. "You ever allow him to touch me again, you will trade places with him. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir" Came back in unison.
They lifted Jarod to the table and dropped him heavily on it. He moaned as they unlocked the cuffs and then secured him to the table, more tightly than was necessary. He didn't bother to struggle.
"I thought we cleared this up yesterday. Mr Lyle assures me that you are a smart man. But I must say, I am beginning to wonder" he turned to retrieve a syringe.
"Sam", He nodded towards Jarod's head.
"What do you want?" He ground out through clenched teeth as Sam's grip tightened.
"For the moment. Obedience." He then emptied the contents of the syringe into Jarod's arm.
The drug took effect almost immediately, and Jarod was running from demons only he could see. Lyle entered the room and looked down at Jarod, thrashing against the restraints.
"How many more sessions do you think?" Lyle was watching Jarod in a kind of sick fascination.
"I believe four days to a week, four times a day, should be enough. I was not expecting him to resist so forcefully today, so I may have to revise my estimates. We shall see. But I am expecting a cumulative effect."
"I want Sydney down here for the next session. We need to prime him. He needs to understand his place, and I think that a graphic demonstration will be the most effective." Lyle could not tear his eyes from the moaning struggling man. He shivered. "Wouldn't wanna be in his shoes."
Cox looked up from the notes he had been taking. He smiled and shot a meaningful glance at the two sweepers. "Indeed not."
Jarod awoke again on the cold tiles in the shower block. He was again violently ill. But this time it was far worse. Lyle was there. Gently stroking his hair, rubbing the back of his neck, whispering meaningless words of comfort. Jarod gratefully accepted the water Lyle offered. He was so sick and so pathetically grateful, that for the moment, he forgot that he hated him. The water was good, somewhere deep in his brain he knew that it wasn't just water, there was something in it. Something that countered the effects of what Cox was doing to him. But he didn't care. It offered relief, and that was all that mattered. He finally fell asleep with his head in Lyle's lap.
He awoke again in his cell and was soon dragged back to the room. This pattern continued throughout the day and night. Jarod had no idea how many times he had been on the table now. It didn't matter, it was all just one big blur. There were vague memories of struggles with sweepers, curses hurled at Cox. And the nightmares. The nightmares were horrendous. They were chasing him while he was awake now. He was no longer able to differentiate reality from the drug induced state.
The only respite was in the showers. Lyle was always there. Always gentle and soothing. Lyle was the only one who didn't offer him pain. This thought struck Jarod as rather incongruous. He knew that it had not always been so, but he could not remember why he feared Lyle. And in his present condition, he decided it was not worth the effort to pursue.
As the weekend passed, with each session, Jarod's attempts at resistance faded away. He no longer seemed capable of any kind of independent thinking. When they entered his cell, he stood calmly as he allowed them to cuff him. He shambled along and then allowed them to restrain him on the table without any complaint. The severity of his nightmares under the influence of the drug seemed to be increasing, judging by the way he thrashed about and cried out. And he was pathetically grateful to see Lyle. At one stage he crawled over and grabbed Lyle's legs and started sobbing. Lyle smiled and stroked his hair as if he were a beloved puppy.
Jarod was back in his cell and Lyle and Cox were watching him on the monitors.
"I think it's time that Sydney got a look at our handiwork" Cox said to Lyle. He was very clearly pleased with himself.
"Yes. I will call him in for the next session. Raines will be there too." Lyle was distracted. Cox turned to look at him.
"What's wrong? Are you not happy with the results?" Cox was clearly perplexed by Lyle's displeasure. Lyle cricked his neck back and forth. He was massaging the stump of his missing thumb.
"I just didn't expect him to ...fold so quickly. I mean, it hasn't been three days....and look at him." He said with disgust.
Cox nodded his head in understanding.
"Oh, don't worry. That's not really Jarod. It's the drugs. This is why we can't keep him drugged if we want him to do the simulations. He has had the drug in his system for over 48 hours now. I bet he feels as if he has been here for years." Cox snickered at that thought. "Once the drugs are completely removed from his system, he will return more or less to his former self. He should be somewhat more malleable, but I am expecting him to fight us with everything he's got."
"How much will he remember of what happened here?" Lyle was curious.
"Not specifics. But we are conditioning him to fear me, and to turn to you for comfort. Poison-induced learning is one of the most powerful and effective forms of learning there is. This will cause a ripple in his drug- free psyche. Everything he knows demands that he is afraid of you, and that he hates you. But the seed has been planted. The one whispering to him, telling him that you are his protector, his friend. This, with the correct reinforcements, will eventually rip him apart. That is when we move in and restructure his world." Cox's last statement was only a whisper.
"Surely just a few days of pain, sickness and misery..."
"Oh, this is just the beginning. We are just peeling back the first layer. We slowly dismantle his entire world, strip him of every emotional support he has ever known. He has borne much in his life, and his defences are formidable, and it is for that reason that when they finally come down, it will be spectacular."
Both men were watching the monitors. Lyle whispered "Soon Jarod, soon."
Miss Parker's House
Miss Parker had woken late in afternoon. She had a very bad hangover and her body was stiff from lying in an uncomfortable position on the couch. A train was running through her head. She made her way gingerly to the kitchen and made herself a coffee. After a second cup and some aspirin, she felt a tiny bit more prepared to deal with the day.
A shower was next on the agenda. She was almost on the way back to half human when the phone rang. And for a brief moment, she was sure it was Jarod. Just like him to ring while she was in the shower. As she was turning the water off, the absurdity of the thought struck her. She wrapped herself in a towel and listened as the machine picked it up. It was Sydney. No surprise there.
"Parker....if you are there....Parker, please pick up. I need to talk to you....."
"I just bet you do Freud" She replied to the machine.
But she was in no mood, or condition to be playing with the headshrinker today. She wandered back to the kitchen. Her stomach was demanding all her attention now. She hadn't eaten anything in more than 24 hours. She busied herself with the preparation of the meal. Not allowing her thoughts to drift where she did not want them going. She sighed, this was going to be a very long weekend. She ate her meal and cleaned up the mess. She threw the empty scotch bottle in the bin.
It was late afternoon and there was a chill in the air. She stoked up the fireplace and then sat back to stare at the flames. She did not want to think about anything, the headache was still there and she just wanted a peaceful evening. She could not remember the last time she knew that there would be no call that would send her scuttling halfway across the country on some wild goose chase. This was really her first day off in six years and she was determined to enjoy the serenity. She would deal with all the rest later. But didn't she deserve at least one day to herself?
The phone rang again, intruding on her thoughts.
"Parker.....we need to talk......pick up dammit......." She looked at the phone but made no move to answer it. Raines could wait until Monday.
"....alright then......Monday. Good job you did yesterday." He tried to sound appeasing, but Parker had a sinking feeling. She sighed heavily. Would there never be any peace?
Her eyes sought out the flames and she allowed her thoughts drift about under their hypnotic lull. Random images from her past floated through her mind. Images of happier times and she allowed herself to be carried away by them.