Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing, so suing me would be a waste of time.

2 months ago

Sydney and Broots stumbled into Sydney's office. Both of them were exhausted after yet another trip in search of Jarod.

"Just what is Lyle doing to Angelo, anyway?" Broots asked, exhausted, flopping into a chair, concerned only with getting some rest. Good thing Debbie was at a friend's for part of her summer vacation or she would be getting quite a few miles on her Learner's Permit ferrying him back and forth. Broots seriously contemplated just curling up on Sydney's very comfortable couch and sleeping at the Centre.

Sydney yawned, covering his open mouth with his palm discreetly. "I do not know," he admitted. "I've been unable to have any time alone with him. Lyle keeps him monitored night and day. I do know that poor Angelo is showing signs of growing agitation by having his movements so curtailed." Sydney rubbed his eyes and leant back in his chair. "At a guess, I would say, considering it is Lyle, threats. It is his speciality after all."

"Hmm," Broots agreed, too tired to form a reply to Sydney's observation.

Within minutes silence, interrupted only by soft snores, fell on the room.

1 1/2 months ago

Broots rubbed his aching back and rotated his neck in a circle to help loosen his tight muscles. For a brief moment Lyle wasn't commandeering his every moment with searches, database runs and physical runs all over the country and he finally had a chance to take a look at what his bot program had found regarding any new projects started within the last three months.

He frowned at the screen and typed in another command. There was only one new project that couldn't easily be explained away: Control. He tightened his search, using the password that Jarod had slipped to him when they worked together chasing Damon and his nerve gas. He scratched his head, momentarily missing his hair, and looked at the information again: To command, dominate, govern, rule . . . Broots frowned. Why would someone feel it was necessary to explain a project with Roget's entry for Control? There was nothing else in the file and there were no more hits on his search.

Sydney frowned as he listened to Broots' findings. "That is unusual," he agreed, pondering. Before he could delve any further into theories, his telephone rang. "Sydney," he replied after lifting the receiver to settle it against his ear.

"Where is Miss Parker?" Jarod demanded, skipping polite pleasantries that Sydney was sure he had taught him.

"Hello, Jarod. How are you? We just returned from Phoenix yesterday."

"Hello Sydney. Where is Miss Parker? She's not answering her telephone or her cell. She's not in her office and it seems she is not checking her email either."

"She's been transferred back to Corporate," Sydney stated the official explanation as Broots unenthusiastically attempted to trace the call. He went through the motions but knew nothing other than a game of around-the-world signal bouncing would result. Still, he had to do it, if only for the surveillance cameras.

Sydney could hear the distinct sound of computer keys being tapped on the other end of the phone line as Jarod did not verbally react to his statement. A few moments of silence then, "No, she was not," Jarod stated with certainty and Sydney knew better than to doubt that somehow Jarod was able to confirm what they could only suspect.

"That's what they told us," Sydney asserted, knowing Jarod would hear the concern in his voice.

"Hmm," Jarod replied, his skepticism more than apparent in the sound.

1 1/2 months ago

Jarod stared at the email buried in his 'refuge' mailbox:

Daughter trapped. Friend save. Bad man in 'Control.'

He swallowed and picked up the phone to call Sydney.

1 1/2 months ago - Sydney's office

"Sydney," he answered his telephone, exhaustion more than evident in his tone.

"Tell me about Control," Jarod stated quietly.

"About having control or needing control?" Sydney hazarded, his brain too exhausted to understand Jarod's request.

"Are you all right Sydney?" Jarod questioned, remembering the pace he has been leading his pursuit team on the last couple of months. He had to admit that Lyle was becoming very intrusive and annoying, much more than Miss Parker, even with all her caustic comments.

"Just tired, Jarod," Sydney assured him. "We just returned from Seattle." He paused for a moment to contemplate how Lyle had raged the entire trip back, not allowing either himself or Broots to take a nap. "Now what was your question?"

"Do you know of a project with the word control in it?" Jarod asked in a more civilized fashion.

Sydney rubbed his face, drawing his hand down from his forehead to his chin. His mind swam. That word sounded familiar. Why? "Hmm," he replied sleepily. "Broots found a project named Control but there wasn't any information to be found. Why?"

"Never mind. Get some sleep, Sydney. I . . ." Jarod stuttered to a halt, unable to voice the concern he felt and the sudden realization that Sydney was not a young man anymore. When had that happened?