Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for the usual disclaimer.
Bradley's Bottlery Warehouse
Lakewood, CO
Lieutenant Randall had every reason to feel good about himself. He had somehow flipped a terminally loser case with one bad break after another into a career enhancing winner. First he had been saddled with an extra body he hadn't asked for but it turned out Douglas was a better asset than he could have anticipated. The seasoned, FBI trained profiler reorganized the team and helped refocus their efforts along a more productive line. Then when the very special agents from the FBI finally arrived, they managed to keep out of the Task Force's way and occasionally helped with background checks and forensics expertise otherwise unavailable on a local or state level. Now this bitch appears out of nowhere thinking she can come in and try to piss on his parade--just when he was on the brink of showing the powers that be what he was about. Life was looking good and to top everything off catching this IIB spook off pace and by the short hairs was making his day.
Parker paused briefly, noting Lt. Randall's supercilious expression. In response, she gave him a wide, predatory smile then slowly walked over to him. Jarod had seen that smile before and despite his heady, deeply entrenched affection for her, that particular grin still reminded him of a certain crocodile he had met in the Florida Everglades. Parker rarely walked into a situation she didn't already have a way out of or at the very least--backup. The embarrassing pranks he had subjected her to after his escape from the Centre had taught her that much.
"Feeling a little cocky, eh?" she said as she slipped past the Lieutenant's comfort zone and stood inches from his face. "Well, this is a good news, bad news situation. Which would you like first?"
Determined not to flinch or step away from the woman's intimidation, Randall stood his ground. The smile on his face however, faltered then fell completely. Wisely he remained silent and stared at Parker with hollow defiance. When Parker was sure the policeman's assurance had been properly shaken, she lifted her hand holding up three gloved fingers waving them subtly in a slow circle and suddenly the sounds of several automatic rifles being primed for firing could be heard. Lt. Randall looked up and around to see over a dozen black-suited, urban assault outfitted and well armed personnel appear on the catwalks suspended above the warehouse floor and pointing their fully automatic weapons on the SWAT team and Task Force officers below.
"Good news, they're not trigger happy. I always pride myself in bringing only the best in party favors," she said with grim finality.
"There's no reason for your people to fear exposure, the Task Force will take all the credit here and no one on the outside will know you were even here," Jarod stated earnestly for the sake of his co-workers.
"I'll pass that on, I'm sure my employers will be relieved. The main thing we were concerned about was getting our hands on Hemlock Hemmings, he's ours now. No compromises." she replied coolly, never taking her eyes off Randall. A short scuffle started as Hemmings who now fully understood what was happening tried to free himself. Two of the SWAT team members tightened their grips on his arms.
"Sounds like you don't quite believe me." Jarod said disappointedly. He was relieved that she understood what part she had to play, despite her early entrance. Gauging her mood, he wanted to keep a close eye on her for his own reasons.
"It's been interesting working with you, Jarod. You definitely have skills, including a few you've taught me to appreciate. But that doesn't mean I'll forget how to do my job," Parker countered angrily, warming up to her part. Hers was a dual role, one for the morons Jarod called co-workers, the other for her co-workers, though she knew this part of her performance would end up on the proverbial cutting room floor.
"What the hell is going on here?" Special Agent Summers asked loudly.
"She's with IIB and for some Special Agency reason they became interested in this case. My guess is that the IIB is the they our murdering fiend was yammering about but then that's something only understood by you Feds," Douglas muttered in a harsh whisper trying to get Summers to shut up.
Jarod surreptitiously fingered the treated cloth he was keeping in his inside jacket pocket. It wasn't quite time yet but the way things were progressing so quickly, it soon would be. Stepping forward he said to Parker, "Let's avoid any more in-fighting and get this guy out of here. The cameras are outside and waiting, thanks to your sister agency, but we'll maintain control to reshape the story to fit all of our needs."
"Hey, I know you. I know who you are. What is this? They're going to kill me! Don't let her take me away! She's from the Tower! There won't be any trial, no justice. This is a death sentence! They pushed me to do this!! If they didn't take everything I owned, everything I built, none of this would've ever happened. Don't let them do this!! She's a Tower executive, everyone is afraid of them. Look, I'll tell you everything you want to know. I have the client files and financing, proof that everything I'm saying is true, just don't let her take me!!" Hemmings pled desperately in a loud voice.
Coolly stepping away from the Lieutenant then looking over, Parker made another hand gesture and several sweepers surged forward, threatening and manhandling the real SWAT team with automatics aimed in their faces and roughly took hold of Hemmings while he continued airing his grievances against the Tower. That done, Parker said with genuinely disgusted irritation, "Shut him up." Sam stepped forward and taped Hemmings' mouth shut.
Turning, Sam was taken aback by the sight of Jarod. He was one of only a very few sweepers on Parker's teams to recognize the pretender and he inquired quietly nodding in Jarod's direction, "Ma'am? What about him?"
"Not our concern. It'll be fun watching Nimrod play Wile E. Coyote for a change. Should teach Thumb-thief the value of good phone etiquette and keeping a civil tongue in his head," she murmured grimly to Sam, lightly touching his muscular arm.
Randall, Summers, Elliot and Jarod listened with interest to this exchange. Jarod breathed a sigh of relief that Parker continued to refrain from using any names, leaving everyone else puzzled by her references. Randall surmised that Jarod Douglas used to be employed by the IIB and the beautiful woman with all the firepower was his old girlfriend. A deep, ingrained cynicism regained hold on Randall's quickly diminishing hopes. Staring at the stunning woman who was annihilating his good day, Randall tried to mitigate the damage by asking, "Uh, Parker, how 'bout you skip the bad news? Look, I'm willing to overlook this fiasco and me and my men will just quietly leave and take this guy with us."
Parker turned her attention back to the Lieutenant and stared at him from behind her dark glasses. Randall wondered how she could see at all since the light in the warehouse was limited. However, the time for Parker to respond stretched on until it became clear to everyone that his speaking to her so familiarly, much less at all, offended her.
"What she needs, I'm sure Jarod was incapable of handling. That's probably the reason for her lousy mood," Elliot commented aloud, intentionally amusing some of the other Task Force members.
She looked at him, then nodded for her people to expose their velcroed SWAT insignia and walk Hemmings into the waiting van. The ripping sound of velcro filled the air as Parker's team seamlessly blended in with the real SWAT officers. With growing exasperation, Randall retorted crossly, "Looks like you've thought of everything."
"She may not be too trusting but she's definitely thorough," Jarod said quietly, wondering where she would throw in the wrinkle to his plan. He didn't have long to wait.
"I have no trouble trusting--you. It's your co-workers who aren't looking too trustworthy or sounding too bright. Guess that's what happens when you get left holding an empty bag," she responded looking pointedly at Randall. The Lieutenant allowed his shoulders to droop a fraction, knowing this was the bad news she had been referring to earlier. She nodded to one of the government-cloned aides who always accompanied Special Agent Summers, and ordered quietly, "Go with them, let me know if there are any problems."
"Yes, Ma'am," the Federal clone responded promptly. He quickly detached himself from his agency counterparts and joined Sam and the rest of Team 1 in parading Hemmings in front of the cameras. Summers watched one her most trusted aides in slack-jawed astonishment, as the man unhesitatingly followed this strange woman's orders. This time even Jarod was impressed by the level and scope of her team's infiltration in the Task Force. She had always had an inside track on everything they were doing.
In the next few seconds, the van was loaded with Sam and his entire team and they sped away in full view of the national networks with the long awaited prize murderer. Once they were gone, Parker turned back to Lt. Randall and company. She was about to announce that she and her teams would leave them without incident, when Jarod eased up behind her and having withdrawn the pre-treated cloth he reached around Parker and covered her mouth. Her eyes bulged with shock as she unintentionally breathed in the fumes. She held her breath for an impressive amount of time while she genuinely struggled against her lover.
Simultaneously, Moriyama and his team immediately surrounded Jarod as he held the cloth over Parker's nose and mouth and drew his 9mm holding it flat against Parker's stomach as she struggled mightily. Moriyama kept his team at bay as he watched Jarod intently. This was the Pretender's play and the head sweeper was interested in how Jarod figured on getting out of the warehouse alive. With a sinking heart, Moriyama watched as his Oyabun slowly succumbed to whatever Jarod used on the cloth. The bodyguard hoped his suppositions about the pretender were correct or he would be forced to kill someone who was very dear to his boss.
As Parker slowly stopped struggling, Jarod recalled the conversation he and Teddy had about subconscious suggestions. He hoisted her half-limp body higher so he could whisper softly in Russian in her ear before she lost consciousness, "I refuse to lose you again, Sweetheart."
With his back to the side door of the warehouse and half a dozen red laser sights on him, Jarod slowly turned so everyone could get a look at what he was doing. Carefully keeping his face hidden behind her head, Jarod methodically showed her remaining teams how he had her propped up against the business end of his weapon to discourage them from shooting him. Moriyama caught on quickly and said in a loud voice, "Team 3, stand down! Stand down, he has a dead man's grip on the weapon. Anyone who shoots him, will kill her." The red laser sights immediately disappeared as Jarod watched for any expression to cross Moriyama's face.
"Douglas, what the hell do you think your doing?" Randall yelled in disappointed defeat. What had started out as a wonderful day, with him at the top of his game was ending up to be a career ender of ulcer-making proportions. Being one-upped by some Federal information hack with an unlimited budget was one thing, to have his prized team member decide to go rogue now of all times was the icing on his soon-to-be early, forced retirement cake.
"Making sure I get out of here in one piece. There are things going on here that you have no idea about. She's my ticket to freedom." Glancing at Moriyama, Jarod continued, "I'm going to take her with me. I give you my word, no harm will come to her as long as none of you does anything stupid." Jarod had caught the look that passed between Moriyama and a slender, quick-witted looking man who appeared ready to shoot Jarod. Moriyama's slight shake of the head gave Jarod the opening he needed. He effortlessly lifted Parker's limp body in one arm and backed out of the side door and into a waiting car just outside the warehouse.
Moriyama immediately ordered the rest of his team to pursue Jarod. Then turned to Lucien and ordered him and his men to the rendezvous point. Lucien walked over to Moriyama and stared at his fellow sweeper.
"You sure about doing it this way?" Lucien whispered anxiously.
"It is the only way," Moriyama answered tersely. "I'm depending on you to make sure her 'relatives' have nothing to feed on."
A small, cynical smile creased the hardened sweeper's face as he looked away, then turned back. "We found the packages. I'll hang on to them until I hear from her to hand them over. If there is ever anything she needs, you had better tell me. I hope to God you're right about this."
At Moriyama's short nod, the Strike Force command sweeper paused for several seconds thinking how he got invited to this show. Being the leader of one of Miss Parker's teams had turned into an unexpected bonanza. He had never thought working for a woman, much less a beauty, would ever be worthwhile. Not only had it been that but much more. She insisted on innovative thinking from her team leaders--with the usual limitations. Her guidelines were law but those rules turned out to be surprisingly progressive. As a result, his strike team was the best the Centre had ever produced. Unfortunately, one of those guidelines included taping every mission for debriefing purposes but that would be taken care of personally by him. Lucien paused for several seconds before systematically withdrawing his team, leaving the Colorado Tactical Task Force alone in the now empty warehouse.
Jarod's lair
Red Cliff, CO
The procession following Jarod as he made his way to his cabin was unshakable. He used a number of tricks to lose his pursuers and even his pre-arranged strategy of leaving them stuck behind in grid-locked traffic didn't work. He didn't know Moriyama had stayed behind for a few minutes, making sure the warehouse site would be left clear of any evidence of Centre involvement. Jarod's gambit was revealed by Moriyama's forward team, enabling him to avoid the grid-lock and to pick up the pursuit where the others had been bogged down.
Jarod kept a close eye on his hostage who was still unconscious and oblivious to the vehicular struggle over her. He checked his rearview window and noticed Moriyama was keeping pace with him but the bodyguard maintained his distance as though reluctant to have Jarod do something rash that would endanger his Oyabun. The title kept pestering Jarod as he circled his lair for the second time. Finally, deciding on trusting his instincts which told him to trust Moriyama, he drove up to his secluded cabin, skidded to a stop and had Parker out of the car and in his arms by the time Moriyama stepped out of his own vehicle. Jarod paused only for a second before walking quickly into the cabin.
Moriyama alighted from his vehicle followed by Horace who drove the unmarked police vehicle he 'borrowed' at his boss' insistence, leaving the rented Town Car behind for Lucien and his team. Moriyama watched as Jarod carried Parker's limp body into the cabin. The bodyguard ordered Horace to wait for the others and to stay off the radio unless absolutely necessary, then followed Jarod into the cabin--the sight of his Oyabun's helplessness causing an almost blinding anger in Moriyama.
Once inside, Moriyama was cautious in his pursuit as he searched the downstairs area for Jarod and Parker. Upstairs, the bodyguard found them in a large bedroom. Jarod was leaning over Parker and staring at her as though he were so myopic that he needed to be within inches of her face in order to see her.
"Step away from her and put your hands up," Moriyama ordered.
Jarod swiftly kissed Parker on the mouth before straightening his posture, facing Moriyama and holding up his hands. Soon Moriyama was joined by two other sweepers, both pointing their 9mm automatics at Jarod.
"What should we do now? We have the one guy the Centre has been searching for the past 7 years right in front of us," said Doyle the sweeper who had been embarrassed by falling into Jarod's grid-lock trap. Doyle glanced at Moriyama who hadn't responded to his comment, then continued, "If we return him as well as Hemmings, we'll return to the Centre as heroes. Mr. Raines would probably reward Miss Parker, who will probably turn around and reward us!"
Still, Moriyama remained silent, his eyes moving from Jarod to Parker's sleeping face. Paul, the other sweeper standing with Moriyama looked to his boss, his weapon never wavering for a second before asking, "What do you want us to do?"
"Doyle, go outside and replace Mark in guarding the perimeter. Tell Mark to bring smelling salts and ammonia, anything used to wake someone who has been drugged," Moriyama ordered quietly. Doyle was about to protest but thought better of it. He had been with Parker for a number of years and used to be part of Sam's team. When Moriyama forced his way into Parker's team, it took him less than 4 months before he was part of Miss Parker's inner circle and private bodyguard. That was a feat that took Sam 2 years to accomplish. Moriyama wasn't a person to cross and Doyle was quick to realize this. Swiftly holstering his weapon, Doyle turned and left to follow his orders.
Mark Huang, entered the bedroom and quickly walked over to his boss. He was the slender, quick-witted looking sweeper who almost shot the Pretender in the warehouse. Mark gently slapped her face but couldn't seem to rouse her. Retrieving a small med kit, he withdrew a small vial and slowly waved it under Parker's nose hoping to get a look at a pair of fiercely intelligent gray eyes.
Author's note: In Japanese, the word "Oyabun" means "Boss". The Oyabun, the undisputed leader, has power and authority over all his subordinates, including his "Kobun" or soldiers.