Rem Cycle, love to hear your ramblings. Leochick, thanks and I hope your computer is behaving now. Ranma8962, heeh, I don't know. I just have the feeling that when Lyle chooses his companions he takes into account their, ah, culinary potential. Pretender-gurl, nice to hear from you again. mariel4000, good to see you're enjoying the ride. imag1ne, I take the sneaky part as a compliment ;-) All of you people, you rock!
Warning: Herein answers lie! (Some of them anyway).
As always thanks for reading
Chapter eight
Always listen to the fortune cookie.
"Beware what you wish for…."
He hurt all over. That was the first thing Jarod noticed upon his return to the waking world. Blinking around the pretender also noticed that he was lying on the floor of a different room. Apparently a session of torture was the price the Centre collected these days to get you out of solitary. Making an exerting effort to stretch the limitations of his own physical pain, the pretender managed to sit up and put his knees to his chest. His head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to lie back down and slip into blissful unconsciousness. That was probably Lyle's plan: keep him exhausted until the Triumvirate came to take him. If that was the case, he had to recognize the madman had got it right this time.
The beating hadn't been brutal, he'd definitely had much worse; but after the events of the past four days, Jarod was just tired. It had all started when, shaking off the remains of the Phenobarbital from his muddled mind, he had found himself being dragged to a cell in some Centre sublevel. He had then spent two days without any kind of human contact, thinking and wondering and slowly going insane thanks to the lack of information. Finally yesterday, Lyle had showed up to share that bit of Centre news through a DSA of Parker's T-Board, giving him an ulcer in the process. Fair is fair, he'd figured: he did own Parker that much. But then this morning the games had begun.
A painful memory entered his brain when he thought of the tall burnet. She'd been there with Lyle, watching the session. Maybe she knew, maybe she'd always known.
Running his hands over his face and through his hair in repetitive motions, the pretender tried to scare away that thought with his growing headache. He really was going insane in his confinement…. Or was he?
'I could go back…'
Yes, he was. It had been his idea, not hers.
'What? Have you lost your mind? Don't answer that.'
He couldn't confidently say that he hadn't lost his mind when he first found about the T-board. It was the fact that it was bad news coupled with the fact that he'd found out about it by mere coincidence, while scouting the Triumvirate's mainframe for information on the Scrolls.
'This is not a regular board, Parker. You've seen the letter. Your shipping order to renewal wing is all but signed.'
Bekele had written the letter. It was addressed to a higher ranking official and with brief sentences relayed the newest developments in Centre politics. Jarod had printed a copy before his emergency visit, knowing Parker wasn't going to buy it just like that.
'So, what? Trust me genius, it's not the first time and it won't be the last. I can handle Lyle on my own, so thanks for the thought, but no thanks.'
In the letter, Bekele said that Lyle had contacted him, concerned over the performance of his sister in her role as a Centre huntress. Apparently, the evil twin had declared incompetence and more than hinted at treason when citing the reasons for his discomfort. Always the good employee, Lyle had 'volunteered' to try his own sister, as prove of loyalty to the Zulu board.
'If you're thinking on killing your brother, that's not a good idea.'
Parker had seriously been considering that option, he'd seen it in her raging eyes.
'I beg your pardon?'
'He's obviously convinced Bekele that you are a more than likely to have committed treason. If you kill him whatever he told the triumvirate will be reiterated. They'll have Raines cut your head off.'
'Oh, I'm sure he'd enjoy that.'
He would have, and he would have been given a pat in the back for his actions too. Five days ago, Parker had been a walking corpse as far as Triumvirate officials were concerned; details regarding methods had never been important to that organization so they were unlikely to ask, or care for that matter. But the total power of execution they'd invested Lyle with, was the most disturbing thing of all. It meant that whatever he'd told Bekele, the sociopath had put on quite the show. That knowledge was probably the one thing that had given Parker some pause, pushing her to stare out of the window of the trashy motel room where they'd spent the night. At least he'd been close to Delaware when his discovery came up.
'So I'm awaiting decapitation. There's hardly any news in that flash, Jarod. Like I said, I can handle it.'
'You don't understand…'
She did understand, he had known that even then. Her mind, just like his, had been working at the speed of sound to try and find her a way out of the almost literal grave. Unfortunately, having found out about Lyle's scheme so late, they didn't have time for much. That didn't mean Parker wanted to go down without a fight.
'Little brother has been getting too far ahead of himself with his delusions of greatness. He just needs to be nudged down a little-'
That had pulled him up from the corner of the bed where he was sitting. She was trying too hard to underplay what was hardly a usual situation. This time she was out, it was ordered and pretty much done. They needed to do something to avoid that. Fast.
'Your "little brother" has been given permission to get you reeducated. I don't know how much you know about what goes on in renewal wing, but believe me, that's something you don't want to ever see. Ever.'
The words had made traces of fear visible in her expression, and it was a funny thing, looking back on it, because he hadn't been trying to scare her. He had only stated the truth.
'Listen, Lyle obviously went through a lot of trouble to keep this under wraps. He's probably been working on this for a long time and he's covered all his bases; he's not going to let you off the hook, unless he's ordered to do so.'
'And that's when you join the picture…Are you on something? I'm just wondering.'
'It's-'
'A stupid idea?You're supposed to be a genius, think something up.'
'I'm trying'.
'Something else Jarod!' She'd stopped yelling and pacing after that.
'What about my disappearing act, weren't you a fan?'
'I am! But there's no time to put it together. If we do this, we get that time.'
He'd never forget the unbelieving look she'd sent his way.
'Sorry to burst your bubble rat, but Centre conditions have not improved over time: there's still no internet service for inmates in hell'.
'Limitations have never been a problem.'
At that point, in a corner of his mind a reminder had been written to never again scold his younger brother for being so damn stubborn. When it came to the gene pool, Ethan had been the unlucky one. Parker had dropped her face into her left hand and laughed.
'I could die…'
Her tone of voice reflected the hopelessness of that option: faking your death was usually pointless with the Centre. Especially with Parker women. Besides there was simply not enough time.
'If we do this, and that's a very big if, they would never believe it. What am I supposed to tell them, that I just asked you nicely?'
'I've been thinking about that. If I'm right about your brother, I have just the way to work that out.'
'Great. Have you worked a way out of there too? Because if you're so good at predicting Lyle's movements, then you know he's going to slice and dice you as soon as you're back.'
'That's where you're wrong. The Triumvirate wants me back in one piece.'
He hadn't been trying to sound smug about it; it had just come up like that.
'God, you are screwed up.'
'Relax Parker; some might think you care for this lab rat's fate'.
He'd been trying to lighten up but if looks could kill, the centre could have been spared the trouble right then
'You know, this might seem all fun and exciting in that fried up brain of yours, but it's not. In fact, since this is Lyle's show, things are granted to get pretty ugly, pretty fast; what you need to do is back the hell off and let me handle it. The less damage done, the better'.
Parker, always the executive-decision maker.
'If…'
'Jesus! Does the word no bear any meaning to you?'
'It'd be just a pretend, Parker'.
'What?'
'A pretend... Your pretend'.
If great minds worked better under pressure then Parker's stubbornness was all the pressure he needed because at that moment, the details had just started to work themselves out. The blue prints hadn't been a problem, he had been in possession of some old ones but he'd updated just to make sure. He had counted with Angelo's presence on the inside, knowing his friend would provide mobility for his resources once he brought them in. The so called fake proves had been the easiest part, completed in about two hours; after a lifetime of practice he was quite handy at making things up. The equipment had been easy to score but the software necessary had taken a little time: the genius had spent a good six hours programming and testing until it had all worked properly. The only real problem had been setting a timeline since he had known only vaguely what to expect once he reached the Centre. He would have to wait for Triumvirate officials to come verify him, he'd been sure about that much: after the murder of Adama, the Centre and all things concerning the infamous hunt for his head had been heavily supervised. Well, obviously not that heavily.
'What about Ethan?'
To tell the truth, Ethan had been the one to give him the idea, albeit unwittingly. Right before venturing into the Triumvirate's mainframe (a regular occurrence after what he'd found in Bekele's computer concerning his mother), the pretender had received an email from his brother about the scrolls. Ethan wrote that he had located someone who apparently knew an awful lot about the ancient scriptures; unfortunately the man lived in Sarajevo and was, well, not a people's person. Ethan had urged him to meet with the man, but in the light of latter developments he'd decided Parker should go in his instead. That way they'd be turning Lyle's little plot into a golden opportunity to get everyone out.
'What abut your mother? Aren't-'
'One week Parker. I go in, you go out, I go out. That's it'.
And that was indeed, pretty much it. Once he was in and Parker got cleared, she would leave for Europe to meet with the professor. He would wait until that was done, to get away, thus creating a wreck that would keep everybody busy; enough not to notice when the two employees that had not engaged in any contact with the escapee, failed to show up for work one morning. He hadn't been able to provide everything for his mentor's and the Broots' getaway but he was confident that Parker had managed polish that part of the plan with what he'd left set up. It was the actual leaving that still gnawed at his mind. The timing had to be right if they were all going to be off the hook: first Parker, then him, then Sydney, Broots and Debbie at once. One after the other: that was the way to go.
'…The cabin, two nights from now'.
'This is suicide, yours and mine'.
True, things could go astray. Being submitted to solitary confinement was the first curve ball that Lyle had thrown at him. Thankfully it had not messed with the six day schedule he, Parker and Ethan had agreed on. This morning's incident was another matter altogether.
Jarod stood up gingerly leaning against the wall behind his back for support. His legs hurt, and he had cramps from being in the same position for a long time. Reaching more than taking a step, he managed to get to the cot only a feet away from him and stretched out on it as best as he could . Staring at the ceiling he considered the implications of Lyle's latest: He was probably just trying to test his twin's loyalties. It hadn't worked, or maybe it had, because although she had looked as uncomfortable as allowed, Parker had not given anything away. Doubt wanted to keep that train of thought going, but the pretender stopped it short: If he was to going let honesty win over his pain, tiredness and last night's DSA (which he'd hoped he wouldn't get to watch), he really knew her better than that. In fact, Jarod hoped the object of his thoughts had already contacted Sydney this morning before coming to work, because now she was more than likely to go trigger happy and after Lyle. Not a good thing at the moment.
Catching a series of sounds coming form outside the room, the pretender smiled a little and waited for Angelo's appearance. Giving the empath that PDA with was the best idea he'd ever had. Now every camera in the Centre was at the mercy of the underestimated genius he knew Angelo to be. And even with such fait, Jarod had been quite surprised when he'd received the first visit last night, only moments after Lyle had left. So much for being cut off from the world.
"Hello, Angelo".
As his friend came into view, the pretender commended himself on bringing two devices for the two of them: the other man was obviously having a ball. There was not time for pleasantries however, and as soon as he gave him the device given the device, the empath was gone without a word; thankfully the PDA was small enough to be easily hidden in this new cell, which meant less risk of exposure for both Angelo and himself. Alone again, Jarod decided he'd work for a few minutes tonight, set the timer on his camera and then go to sleep. He was still exhausted and tomorrow was a big day; he needed to be lucid.
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AN2. So…Surprised? Disappointed? OOC? This is one of the major turning points of the fic, so please, let me know what you're thinking [just uh, no rotten veggies, please? thanks =) ]