Disclaimer and such: check Prelude.

A/N: Oh, well, this one took a while, really sorry about that. I bring news though: chapter eleven is almost done and should be up on Monday at the very latest. And that one is long. 2800-words- and-still-running long. So you know, brace yourselves.

Thanks go to ranma8962, imag1ne, mariel4000, Ginger6, leochick and jerseyno1. You guys don't know how glad I am that you continue to enjoy this twisted little tale of mine –and that you take the time to tell me so. Seriously, I know I've said it a thousand times, but I still mean it. You rock! =)

Also, cloudburst and Wayward Explorer, thanks for joining the ride. Hope you're both still out there and still interested on this chapter.

And without further ado, we're back in business people!

Chapter ten

Dude, where's my thesaurus?

"Evil is the radiation of the human consciousness in certain transitional positions". – Franz Kafka.

"Do you need me to spell it out for you? VA- CA- TION. I want it, I've earned it, I've got it and I'm leaving. Anything else?"

"Well, it's just so soon…we'd just started to have fun." Unable to ignore the evident sadism attached to her brother's voice, Parker tried her best to appear only mildly displeased. It was a good thing, she figured, that she'd actually managed to get some sleep last night; otherwise she'd be plucking Lyle's eyes out with her fingernails by now. But lucky as the bastard was, this morning she was feeling slightly less confrontational. Slightly.

"You're a sociopath Lyle, and while that might be just fine with Raines, I don't think it jives too well with the Triumvirate; especially if your perturbed little mind is aiming to play with one of their toys. You should try to remember that, little brother."

"Why, sis, since when do you care?"

"Oh I don't. Or I wouldn't, if I hadn't put my head on the fire to get him back here at last." Looking straight into her brother's eyes, she proceeded to threaten him quietly. "You're not throwing that to the garbage, Lyle. I'm not letting you."

"Right. And this plane of yours is leaving when, again?" Lyle's smugness was so pure that Parker couldn't help the joy that shaped her lips into a small malicious smile. What her current company ignored was that she'd been extremely busy earlier this morning. Retrieving a business card from the vicinity of her office phone, she extended her arm over her desk and towards her twin, offering him the item.

"I called someone", she started as the card left her hand. "He'll be arriving here soon; tomorrow at the very latest." Knowing her brother was probably stuck on the fact that the name in the card came with a medical title, she continued. "He's coming here to supervise genius-boy's proper recovery for his trip to Africa next week. I figured it'd be a good idea, you know, lest he accidentally bumped into something while you were not looking, and inflicted some sort of permanent damage on his precious little head." She paused for effect before following her speech. "You don't mind, do you? Bekele thought it was a great idea…"

Lyle didn't have to raise his eyes from the letters he was furiously committing to memory, for Parker to know he was probably developing a gastric ulcer of his own at the moment. If there was anything her thumb-less twin truly hated, it was being blindsided like this. Still, Parker felt the final blow had yet to be delivered, so she adopted a dismissive attitude and turned back to the files she'd been previously studying. "I wouldn't piss him off if I were you. That doctor? But then I'd also change that tie. It doesn't go with that suit".

When Lyle had turned to her in the middle of her last remark, Parker had been forced admit to herself how much she was enjoying this little game. Dangerous as it was, the murderous anger that her brother was positively radiating in her direction, was making her feel satisfied to and absurd degree. She didn't smile though, nor did she allow herself to show anything but indifference as she waited for Lyle to take a hint and leave her office.

"Very well, then." At last, a male voice penetrated her senses and although Parker didn't actually turn to the source, she could tell her brother was standing up and getting ready to leave. "Enjoy your trip", Lyle continued as he walked towards the door, his fake nonchalance forcing Parker to follow him with her eyes. "Just…Don't stay away too long. We'll be waiting for you".

Then the door closed, allowing Parker to forcefully drop the files she'd been holding in a show of exasperation. Lyle was a piece of work; she had to give him that. Somewhere between his last not so veiled threat and the blatant hungry look he'd given her before making an exit, the sociopath had managed to bring back his twin's urge to turn him into a premature organ donor, this time with a vengeance. If only her flight wasn't so damn soon….

She was still considering the outcomes of that fictional scenario when she felt her right thumb graze a rubbery surface on the inside of her palm. She'd actually forgotten about the band aid and the small cut it hid from view, but now that the sensation was reminding her of how the plastic cover had landed on her hand, the flow of logical thought through her neurological connections was slowly starting to return.

It was Sydney who had originally found something to cover her minor injury with. The older man had appeared in her bedroom holding a steaming mug of tea and a little box she'd immediately recognized as her first aid kit. He'd sat next to her, cleaned her hand and put an insane amount of focus into finding a suitable dressing for her minor wound, while he waited patiently for her to shed some light on her contradictory actions. Parker had been too tired and to shocked to even consider objecting his attentions; she had noticed, however, just how quiet everything was inside her house. It had been so quiet that she'd been able to hear the sounds coming from outside her window, which had struck her as funny since she never really paid attention to stuff like that. It was while she pondered her auditory discovery that she'd breached the subject that had brought her and her companion to that very moment. Not known for her love of preambles, Parker had dived right into the matter.

I didn't turn him in.

That had been it. Following those five words, she'd slowly unraveled the complicated plot surrounding Jarod's capture for her attentive audience. Throughout the tale Sydney had remained quiet and composed, finally making it clear for Parker why her mother had chosen to confide in the Belgian man: he was the perfect listener for perfectly nonsensical tales, always ready to follow plot twists and accept new facts. However, the characteristic Parker had been most grateful for was his ability to keep silent. The psychiatrist had obviously spotted all her half-truths as soon as they had left her mouth, yet he'd refused to ask prying questions. A good thing, since the bulk of the details that had been left out constituted her private business. But intimacies aside, Parker had told the truth at last and in that process, relayed the details of the escape plan she'd been ready to ditch not even an hour before her confession.

Looking back on it, she still couldn't decide if she would have actually damned it all to hell. Probably. She had been sleep deprived for a very long time. Thankfully, Sydney had been gracious enough to suggest a nap before they had any kind of in-depth discussion regarding Jarod's plan. She'd only achieved a few hours of sleep, but they'd allowed her to piece herself together before braving the load of technical questions the older man had thrown at her later on.

Once all of Sydney's qualms had been resolved and he'd agreed to follow instructions, the doctor had taken up upon himself to call Broots and update him on the new developments. Somehow Parker was sure that the psychiatrist was only being so accommodating because they both knew the computer techie was going to need him to make it out unscathed. It unsettled her a little, knowing she'd never understand her colleague's motives for remaining at the Centre, but for the time being she was just glad that he was playing along: the last thing she needed was more fuel for her constant migraines.

Going back to the file selection process Parker thought for the first time of what she was doing: these reports were supposed to be handed over along with Jarod when his Triumvirate transport came to take him. Technically, it didn't matter, since the pretender had no plans of taking that plane, but it was a matter of fact that Raines was going to review her selection before passing it on. She actually had to drop the whatever she chose by the chairman's office on her way out. That was to say…Right about now, Parker realized glancing at her watch. Although she was taking the company jet for her flight to Paris, she still needed to get there with enough time to ditch the tail her brother was no doubt pinning on her and take her connecting flight to Munich. And then, off to Sarajevo.

The prospect of spending a day of her life hopping in and out of planes was less than promising, and yet…

Something stirred inside Miss Parker. A wholesome feeling she easily identified with her inner sense. The sensation was so keen that despite the fact that this was the first time the talent had made an appearance in the past few weeks, she couldn't help the wave of confidence that invaded her for a moment: this stupid plan of theirs was going to work out.

She hastily finished her selection and walked to the door. Standing on the threshold of her office, she tried to feel something for the life she was turning away form but nothing concrete came up, which suddenly struck her as a miserable thing. However, knowing she didn't exactly have time to dwell on past occurrences, she resolutely turned around and started up the hallway. This place had taken everything from her; screwing them over and living to tell the tale was going to be, if anything, a source of personal reaffirmation.

On her way to Raines' office, Parker made a mental note to double check her newly acquired gun: just because her little circle of friends might be leaving with their heads on, didn't mean they were going to magically keep them that way. The Centre never went down without a fight.

…

There were men who took risks and there were men who took extreme risks. David Broots had never belonged to either category, so the events of the past few days were simply wreaking havoc on his nervous system. As he fumbled with his terminal trying his damnest to appear inconspicuous, the computer techie felt like he was sliding down a slanted street strapped to a surf board with his hands tied, no helmet and into oncoming traffic.

It had all started about five days ago, when Ms. Parker had arrived to the Centre in the company of her brother and a beaten down Jarod. His first reaction had been to deny the facts, even though Mr. Lyle had presented ample proof to convince him and Sydney of Miss Parker's latest bout of loyalty to her family. The psychiatrist had been a little more vulnerable to Lyle's seemingly un-refutable statements, due to his worry for Jarod's well being. But Broots knew that deep down, they had both clung to a thin thread of hope that maybe there was something about the whole ordeal the manipulating sociopath hadn't told them; something that could exonerate or at least excuse the strange behavior of their temperamental boss. Then, three days later, that thread had simply snapped when the techie had been required by Mr. Lyle to get a copy of the DSA that documented the latest Centre Tribunal. He hadn't needed convincing on anyone's part after that; he'd seen it all by himself. For what reason, he didn't know, but Miss Parker had indeed, committed every crime Lyle had accused her of. Finally, Broots had tried to assume (against his personal logic), that maybe he'd just been wrong about her, that she really was Raines's daughter - what with all the lying and double crossing. But had it all stopped at that point? No, of course not. That would have been too easy. Instead, he'd received a call from Sydney this morning, and the doctor had pretty much ordered him to come by Miss Parker's house because their old boss having problems with her ulcer again.

So naturally, with a mixture of curiosity and concern, Broots had waited for Debbie to be on her way to school before hopping in his car and going where he had been told. Along the way he'd kept wondering why was Sydney at Miss Parker's anyway? They weren't even speaking to each other. Unless, the doctor had done something and…it sounded silly now, but to be honest the thought had popped into his mind, almost causing him minor vehicular mishap. Of course, on arrival he had discovered that Sydney's urgency hadn't been the product of something that twisted. Indeed, it was worse. Much worse, because apparently nothing that had happened during the course of the past week had actually happened. It was all like a long drawn out dream that they were had all been pretending to live even without knowing… Just thinking about it, made Broots's stomach flip.

Doing what he could to keep away from twitching the balding techie tried to look focused on his computer's screen. Knowing how close Miss Parker had been from another trial only confirmed what he already knew: they couldn't stay where they were for much longer. It wasn't safe. Raines and Lyle were definitely up to something –each other's throats, most likely- and Broots had the feeling that everything surrounding those two was considered fair game, people included. Jarod's scheme, as farfetched it seemed, was really the best (and probably only) chance they had to actually get away. If things worked, they'd be out. All of them. They'd be able to go some other place, away from that zombie Raines, his cannibal son and all the craziness surrounding the Centre. Even if he had to endure one more week of anxiety like this, it would be worth it. If nothing else, for Debbie.

Grounded by thoughts of his daughter, the centre employee was only partly surprised when he heard a male voice practically beating his name. Mr. Lyle had asked him for a copy of the available records on some doctor from synthesis. Knowing that his search was probably related to Jarod in one way or the other, he had saved a copy to pass on to Sydney; therefore, he had no problems lifting the thin blue folder from his small desk and handing it up to his obviously impatient employer. The chairman's son took the file and starting scanning the pages on the spot. He had been expecting something or looking for something specific, Broots decided, because at a particular point his eyes widened in something akin to reaffirmation, he smiled and snapped the file shut before turning towards the elevators.

"Good job Mr. Broots", he threw over his shoulder. "Keep it up"

The cheery note on Mr. Lyle's voice and his triumphant expression gave Broots the chills. It didn't take a genius to understand that something in the order of the world had just taken a very, very wrong turn.

Sydney. He had to find Sydney, soon.

A/N2: leochick, I hope your computer is finally acting the way it should. Eva, my girl, blue is not your color so take care. George, the pressure is much appreciated.