Disclaimer: I can only hope that someday such enthralling and complex characters are my personal creations. Until then, the characters of the Pretender have been borrowed and made to live out various situations at my demand and whim. They are not mine.

Summary: Jarod steals valuable Centre information and puts himself into the public eye, the one place the Centre can see him and not touch him. The directive's the same, his freedom for hers. The field of play, however, is entirely different.

Centre Affairs

By Bec-Bec

Chapter 5

Mainframe

"This is Sydney."

"You should consider taking a vacation, Syd." Jarod's voice indicated that he was grinning widely. "I've found them to be incredibly relaxing."

Sydney leaned back in his chair. "That's not surprising, considering the routine of your current pretend. Many people find that vacations allow them to escape the pressures and banalities of their every-day lives."

"I would hardly call my life banal," Jarod remarked. "But it was nice to shed the business front of Mr. Crown for a few days.

Sydney sighed heavily. "Dropping only one aspect of your pretend will have repercussions."

"Doesn't everything, Sydney?" Jarod replied smoothly.

"How many days has it been, Jarod? When was the last time you emerged from your pretend?"

Silence filled the line.

"Does it really matter?" Jarod asked blandly. "I'm getting the job done, just like you trained me to."

Sydney sat forward, his voice emphatic. "I never allowed you to trap yourself in a pretend for weeks at a time. The effects on your mind would have been detrimental."

"No, Sydney. You just kept my brilliant mind from experiencing sensory overload so I could continue working on your beloved simulations," Jarod countered cruelly.

"The simulations were never more important than your mental health, Jarod. They were for your own safety. If Raines had his way, you would have ended up just like Alex. That path is the one you are treading at this very moment. You are becoming consumed by sociopathic behavior, the effects of which cannot be reversed."

Jarod chuckled coldly. "Genius or madness. It's always been a thin line. But I'm not the only one walking it."

"Miss Parker."

"What path is she treading? How dangerous are the repercussions of her actions, Sydney?" Jarod's voice menaced. "She's been pretending for years."

"Miss Parker's pretend is a front, a façade. She was never trained to absorb a personality to the core of her being the way that you were."

"You shouldn't be so sure, Sydney." Jarod's voice mellowed, tinged with something Sydney couldn't identify immediately.

There was silence again.

After a few moments, Jarod's voice came across the phone line again. "Thank you, Sydney." Jarod disconnected the call.

Sydney grinned softly. Jarod's mind was as sharp as ever.

Sydney's provocations had held a specific intent, one that Jarod could not initially detect. In spurring Jarod's anger, Sydney had broken through the behaviors of Mr. Crown into a fury that was purely Jarod's. He had reminded the Pretender of his own past, his pains and frustrations, but most importantly, what he was fighting against and what he was fighting for.

Yet, Sydney was troubled by Jarod's statement regarding Miss Parker. Perhaps she had become absorbed by her own "pretend."

"Défaite," Sydney whispered into his silent study. Defeat. Jarod's voice had been tinged with defeat – something the Pretender had rarely expressed to him.

Sydney reclined in his chair again, puzzled by the Pretender's closing statements about Miss Parker.

"Nice tan," Lyle commented with a leer, strolling into Miss Parker's office without an invitation.

"Thanks," she replied calmly from behind her desk "I went to the beach for a couple of days."

"On the job." He stated with sarcasm, wandering toward her desk.

Miss Parker continued making her tea, squeezing the lemon as Lyle advanced.

"That's right."

"And did you, uh, pick anything up?" Lyle asked, placing himself on the edge of Miss Parker's desk.

"Jarod makes wonderful lobster." Miss Parker remarked with disinterest, ignoring Lyle's presence next to her. She sipped at her tea.

Lyle nodded his head without knowledge for agreement. "I'm sure it was much better than the grasshoppers he whipped up for us." He paused for a moment. "Since when do you drink tea?"

No answer.

"So that's it, huh? After two days and two nights?"

"Yes," she answered blandly.

"So, it was basically an excuse to fuck each other for the weekend."

Miss Parker didn't bother to reply.

"Okay." Lyle nodded again.

The room was silent for a moment.

"Would you like to know where he was the night before you left? Or after he left you last night?" Lyle asked with a devilish smile.

"Not really."

"Okay." Lyle shrugged and slid off of Miss Parker's desk. "Suit yourself." He began to walk away briskly.

"Lyle," Parker called out. Her eyes were downcast as she gestured for him to return to her desk.

Smirking wickedly, he ambled back to her desk and handed her the file he'd been holding.

Miss Parker opened it and looked at the photo on top of the stack inside. Jarod's forehead was resting conspiratorially against that of the blonde woman he'd been dancing with the other night. The next photo had them wandering down the street. Jarod's arm was wrapped securely around the woman's waist.

Miss Parker flipped through two more photos quickly before shutting the folder and handing it back to Lyle in a haphazard mess.

"She's striking," Miss Parker said evenly.

Lyle grinned evilly. "He seems to think so. Three dates in six days."

"Where does he find the time," she stated more than questioned.

Lyle attempted to cover his malicious smile as Miss Parker stood and moved toward her office door.

"Going down to SL-5?" Lyle asked casually, turning toward her. She kept walking without a response. "You okay, sis?" Lyle's voice feigned interest.

"I have work to do," Parker replied briskly, her back turned to Lyle.

Lyle nodded again and exited the room shortly after Miss Parker. His suspicions were partially confirmed. The Triumvirate wouldn't be pleased with his findings.

Lyle ambled into the tech lab on SL-5, where Broots seemed to be rapidly entering computer commands and whispering to Miss Parker.

"Ahem," Lyle said.

"You're supposed to actually clear your throat when you do that, Buttercup," Parker replied acidly without looking up.

Broots began laughing, but stopped when Lyle glared at him. "It was just, um, the Powerpuff Girls. You know how they always have words to describe actions instead of using the actual sounds. Like the old Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner cartoons." Lyle and Miss Parker both focused annoyed looks at him. "Debbie, uh, watches the cartoon channel… sometimes." Broots turned back to his computer.

"Sure she does, Broots," Miss Parker patted his shoulder patronizingly, as she turned to her brother.

Lyle smirked. "You're one to talk."

Miss Parker ignored his comment. "What the hell do you want now, Lyle?"

"I've come with a peace bargain."

"Your dead body?" Parker asked with a snide grin.

"With love." Lyle's voice dripped with sarcasm. "The Triumvirate's trust in your motives is rapidly declining. I'm here to make a deal before the Africans decide to remove you. Permanently."

"Go on," Miss Parker replied coolly.

"You keep me in the loop on all of your findings," Lyle emphasized "findings" sardonically, "and I'll report to the Triumvirate that I have full faith that screwing Boy Wonder isn't tampering with your incentive."

"And why would they believe you?" Miss Parker stalked toward him slowly

"I have a reputation with them. They know they can trust me."

"Bullshit, the Triumvirate doesn't trust anyone." Miss Parker's face was less than an inch away from Lyle's. "They'd rather kill you and me than risk it, and you damn well know it."

Lyle grinned wickedly. "That may very well be the case. But, if I were you, I'd take the gamble. Either way, you're dead, eventually. I'm just buying you a few more days."

"Your concern is overwhelming, but I think I'll pass," Parker replied bitterly.

"It's your ass, Parker, not mine." He turned on his heal and strolled out of the room confidently.

"He's up to something," Parker's eyes narrowed as she watched the door slide shut behind him.

"Heh, isn't he always?" Broots said from his desk.

"What's this?" Lyle asked as Miss Parker slapped a manila folder down on his desk.

"Remnants of the files Jarod supposedly took."

"Remnants? Supposedly?" Lyle asked with interest.

Parker poised herself on the edge of Lyle's desk. "The Centre's computer system keeps remnants of the files that are transferred over its server, in case something happens to the originals. Jarod left the remnants of the files he removed behind."

"And?" Lyle's eyebrow arched. "What does it prove?"

"The remnants were altered. Instead of reading as partial pieces of their original files, they've become encrypted messages regarding other files. Jarod disguised the remnants as other files."

"So, if he can disguise the remnants, he must be able to disguise the actual files."

Miss Parker slid off of Lyle's desk and walked towards the door. "We'll need to find the creator of the Centre's computer system."

Lyle leaned over to look after Parker. "How long have you known about this?"

"Five days," Parker replied.

"Why didn't you share this information before?"

"I shared it now." She disappeared through Lyle's office doors.

Lyle smiled diabolically.

"It's beautiful." Parker lightly fingered the glittering Bvulgari necklace laid out before her in an intricate, felt-covered box.

Jarod grinned. "You're not going to say that I couldn't possibly…" he trailed off.

The sparkling metal and precious stones twinkled in the light of the restaurant's candlelit tables. They had just finished with their cappuccinos following a four-course meal.

"I would never say anything that boring," Parker ran her finger along the felt edge of the box, transfixed.

Jarod's smile twitched as he kept it from widening.

In the car, Jarod filled the silence with talks of his society dinners and benefits, and the strange people that accompanied them. Miss Parker gave short replies, but Jarod could tell she was distracted by something. He pressed on, regardless.

"Kitty Sinclair is holding a benefit at her gallery tomorrow. She's a nice lady, but it will be like having dinner at a morgue. Which I've done, of course, but that was far more appealing." He paused and turned to Parker. "You know, it occurred to me that I might be able to bear it if you came with me."

Miss Parker turned her head slightly, her jacket enticingly covering the lower part of her face."Tomorrow? That's so soon," she remarked.

"I sense irritation…" Jarod trailed off, his face falling almost imperceptibly.

"No." Parker shook her head softly. "No," she reaffirmed.

Jarod leaned in a little. "Do you find my company monotonous, Miss Parker?"

"No." She chuckled. "Not hardly."

"Because I'd hate to think that you could," Jarod continued.

"What?" Miss Parker asked coolly. "Be bored by you? Require a little variety?"

"You're referring to Anna." Jarod chuckled, turning away from her as he finally realized what was bothering her. He sobered a little. "They photographed me with Anna."

"That's your prerogative," Parker replied evenly, as she stared out the side window. "We're hardly exclusive."

"I thought they were," Jarod pressed on. "And I let it happen." He turned toward her again. "Do you want to know why?"

"No."

"I'll tell you why." Jarod was heedless of nearly every attempt Parker made to avoid the subject.

"I don't want to know why."

"Well, I want to tell you why."

Parker turned toward him. "I don't want to know why." She addressed Jarod's driver. "Jimmy, I'd like to get out."

"Jimmy, keep driving," Jarod countered.

"Jimmy, could you stop," Parker re-issued forcefully.

Jimmy obediently pulled the car over to the side of the road. He never was one to counteract a lady's wishes.

"Just let me tell you why."

"No." Parker immediately opened the door wide and exited the car into the snowy bank at the car's side.

Jarod muttered curses as he watched her briskly walk up the hill. He climbed out of the car and quickly dashed after her.

"Now ask me why," he pressed as he got within hearing range of Miss Parker.

"I don't want to know," she replied harshly, stopping near a tree.

"You're upset about it," Jarod urged.

Parker snorted derisively. "I'm upset because that's what you wanted, Jarod."

"I needed you to be upset," Jarod said forcefully.

"He's sadistic, who knew." Irony filled her voice. "It doesn't come as a surprise after all the shit you've put me through."

"Did it ever occur to you that I needed to know?" Jarod asked firmly.

"Know what?" she asked after a moment.

"Know whether all you wanted was the Centre's information." Jarod's voice became less forceful, taking on an edge of sadness, but remaining serious.

Miss Parker turned toward him, her breath making steam in the cold air.

"How else could I know?" Jarod asked.

"What about you?" Miss Parker asked. "How do I know about you?"

"I can leave here tomorrow. So can you." Jarod's demeanor was serious, welcoming, but not requesting. It would be her choice; her terms.

"We would be fugitives."

"Fugitives with means. That makes all the difference in the world."

"They would never stop looking for us, Jarod." Miss Parker paused. "I don't know." She reaffirmed. "I don't know."

Jarod nodded.

"This is Sydney."

"Have you ever heard of Peter Pan Syndrome, Sydney?" Jarod asked inquisitively.

"Jarod." The psychiatrist hadn't been expecting such a late night call from the Pretender. He turned his bedside lamp on and straightened up.

Jarod repeated his question. "Have you ever heard of Peter Pan Syndrome?"

"By more scientific terms, yes. It is an inability to grow up, or a desire not to. Some people liken it to Holden Caulfield as well. Why do you ask?"

"What happens if Peter Pan finally decides to grow up?"

Sydney's brow furrowed. "The story ends," he replied simply.

"But what if there's no place for him to land?"

Sydney was puzzled by Jarod's question. "I don't know. I suppose he makes himself a place to land." There was a pause. "Makes a new life."

"I suppose so," Jarod replied.

"Was that the answer you were looking for, Jarod?"

"Not really… but I don't think I asked the right question to receive the answer I wanted," Jarod sighed. "She's just like me, Sydney. We don't know what we've lost until it's gone."

The line disconnected, leaving Sydney filled with questions and suppositions yet again.

"Hey, let's go," Lyle popped his head into Parker's office.

"Where?" she asked evenly, from behind her desk.

Lyle walked into the room, and placed his hand behind Parker's couch, removing a small metal object. He threw it to the ground and smashed it with the heal of his shoe. "To visit the mainframe creators."

Parker watched him as he smoothly moved toward the door. When he got there he turned.

"We haven't got all day, Parker. Come on."

Blinking a few times, she got out of her chair and followed Lyle out of her office.

"I've never met anyone named Jarod," the restaurant owner stated suspiciously.

Lyle and Miss Parker were sitting at the counter in a dirty little diner.

Grimacing as he swallowed a cup of coffee, Lyle continued questioning the man. "What about a Mr. Crown?"

The man's eyes twitched. "Why do you ask?"

Miss Parker rolled her eyes. "Frank, have you ever been to Delaware?" she asked with an accusing smile.

"Never been to Delaware, no," the man drawled. His eyes said otherwise. "Excuse me a second."

Miss Parker tilted her head, gesturing to Lyle as Frank walked quickly toward the kitchen. Lyle came up behind Frank, poking a gun into the man's back as she intercepted him in front.

"All we want are a few answers Friedrich, then we'll leave," Miss Parker said coldly.

Friedrich nodded.

"Do you work for them?" Freidrich asked, his German accent suddenly pronounced in his words.

"What do you think?" Lyle asked with annoyance.

Miss Parker circled Friedrich tauntingly.

"How did you find me?"

"Oh, you know the Centre," Lyle palmed his gun. "We're everywhere." He gestured widely.

Miss Parker's switchblade clicked open. Friedrich twitched. Smiling at the man's fear, Miss Parker stopped in front of him. "Like I said, Friedrich, just answer a few questions and we'll leave you alone."

"What do you want to know?"

"The Centre's mainframe," she began. "Did you create the computer code for it?"

Friedrich nodded. "I helped to create it, but I was mostly concerned with the hardware. The wires and mechanisms. Another German wrote the actual code. Heinrich…"

"Knutzhorn," Lyle finished.

Miss Parker looked at Lyle.

"Broots pulled up two names, Parker."

"0000000011100001100011001010001000," Heinrich listed stoically.

Lyle leaned in to Miss Parker. "His brain is as fried as yesterday's eggs, Parker," he whispered as Heinrich continued listing binary code in the background. Miss Parker ignored him and walked over to Heinrich.

Broots had tracked the man down to a mental hospital in Nebraska. Now, Heinrich sat cross-legged in front of them, his eyes unfocused and his arms strapped to his body in a straight jacket.

"0000100000111111111110001001001," Heinrich continued.

"He hasn't spoken anything but binary code since he got here," an orderly spoke from the door.

Miss Parker kneeled in front of the man, looking carefully in his eyes. "Has anyone tried to interpret what he's saying?"

"No one knows." The orderly replied. "The last person who tried to interpret the code came up with mish mosh."

Miss Parker listened intently to Heinrich.

"I'll wait across the hall." The orderly left the room

Lyle walked toward Miss Parker. "Let's go, the man's a regular Humpty Dumpty."

"The Centre has its own code. One zero is all it would take to differentiate between two codes. He's probably babbling in the Centre's specific mainframe code."

Lyle wasn't convinced. "And what? You speak binary code?"

"Who would bother to learn binary code?" Miss Parker focused her attention on the man in front of her. "Sind Sie Heinrich Knutzhorn?"

Heinrich turned toward her and nodded.

"Sprechen Sie Englisch?"
"Yes," was the man's slow reply.

Lyle's eyes widened. "So Humpty isn't as cracked as we thought."

Miss Parker ignored him. "Did you write the Centre's mainframe code, Mr. Knutzhorn?"

"Yes."

"Has a man named Jarod or Mr. Crown been by to visit you?"

"No."

"Have you hacked the mainframe recently?" Lyle asked firmly

Heinrich began laughing. "So so so you think if I want a computer I just ask for one and and the orderlies just think it's therapy while I I madly type binary code in my cell without a phone line?"

Miss Parker chuckled and raised her eyebrows mockingly at Lyle.

Heinrich got a distant look in his eyes.

"What?" Lyle asked.

Heinrich shook his head and wagged his finger. "Nichts."

"What?" Lyle pressed.

Lyle was met only with binary code and a blank look on Heinrich's face. He huffed with exasperation.

Miss Parker just smiled.

"What?"

"Nothing," Miss Parker answered.

"What?" Lyle repeated as the car drove along.

Miss Parker shrugged. "I was just wondering what he wouldn't say before."

"He's a nut case. He was probably thinking about a tuna fish sandwich."

Miss Parker waved her hand dismissively.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Give," Lyle said firmly

"There's nothing, Lyle," she answered coldly.

Lyle pulled the car over to the side of the road. "You know what, life is full of shitty conflicts, Parker. If it has something to do with Jarod, give."

"I was just wondering if there was some other connection between them."

"Between Jarod and that nut?"

"Yeah."

"You're spooky, Parker. Really spooky," Lyle leaned back in an office chair with a strange grin. "Suppose you got it from our mother."

Miss Parker's walk slowed.

Broots turned from his computer and handed her a stack of papers. "Jarod's cell phone records have the number of the psychiatric hospital listed 5 times in the last two months."

"How does that work? Jarod couldn't speak directly with Knutzhorn."

"We're, uh, we're still looking in to it."

Lyle thumbed through his own copy of the report. "He called once October 20th, again on the 24th and a third time November 5th. He also received two calls on October 30th and November 2nd."

"Did you notice the fourth call on October 26th?" Miss Parker walked further into the room. "That's the day before Jarod siphoned the information out of the mainframe."

"So?" Lyle asked with a bored expression. "There are a lot of calls on that day."

"Look at the incoming caller name."

"Tyrol Knutzhorn," Broots read carefully.

Lyle leaned forward. "We spoke to Heinrich Knutzhorn."

Miss Parker laughed and tapped the papers lightly against her chin. "Do you know what it was? The look he had when he wouldn't speak? It was nostalgia. Familial nostalgia. I bet you Jarod's been speaking with his son."

Broots eyes widened. "The son of a computer mastermind who knows how to create code just like his father."

"The Centre just doesn't know about him yet." Miss Parker handed the stack of papers back to Broots.

Lyle stood and moved toward the door. "And we should keep it that way."

Miss Parker moved toward the seat Lyle had just vacated. "Well, I assume if Broots looks, he'll find that Tyrol Knutzhorn lives in New York. Somewhere near Jarod's house."

Lyle grinned suavely. "You know Parker. I think I actually owe you an apology. I didn't think you'd be able to see this through, what with your emotional ties."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you underestimated me, Lyle" She replied coldly.

"But I shouldn't have." A cruel look passed over Lyle's face. "Because I bet you'd shoot our own father before you'd let Jarod play you." Lyle's face twitched with delight as he exited the room.

Miss Parker stared at the door as Lyle left. Her face was completely ashen.

Author's Note: Five months later… I know it's been a long time, I apologize. Life got the better of me. This is the product of a two-day writing spree. I'm kind of proud that I wrote it all out so quickly. And, you'll be pleased to know that only one chapter remains to be written :) hugs to all