Disclaimer: Do I own it? In a parallel universe perhaps, but not in good old Mr. Reality. (Curse him and his boundaries!)

Rating: Parental Guidance needed for those under 13. (Not really, but that's what PG-13 stands for and since I can't use PG-11 or something like that then I have to- oops. I'm doing it again aren't I?)

Summary: It's "Mission Impossible" for our would-be heroes, as the Centre gets some uninvited guests…

Feedback: I yearn for your insight and wisdom!

Feedback Responses:

Pez7701:  Thank you once again, my insightful reviewer! I'm glad you enjoyed it!                                                 Ann:  Yeah, if you haven't already noticed, I love Broots. =-) I'm delighted that you found the part funny.  

Ievandie: Thanks for checking on my story, and for reviewing the chapter. Oh, and don't worry, I can write from behind a shield. I just find it safer. ;)                  

Quote:

            "To get profit without risk, experience without danger, and reward without work is as impossible as it is to live without being born."

                                                                         ----- A. P. Gouthey

**********************************ShadowElfBard************************************

1:49 AM, Friday

Blue Cove, Delaware

Local Starbucks

(Surprisingly, This Time I'm Going To Try Arthur)

I sip disinterestedly at the café mocha I ordered, (which is quite good but no substitute for tea), as I watch Astrea and Jarod in a heated debate about the methods they're going to use to get into this corporation. They aren't yelling, thank goodness, but are instead using passionate wording and comebacks in a discussion that is leaving me far behind. They're talking so swiftly that it's hard to get a word out, (though they seem to understand each other just fine), and the terms they're using are sometimes too advanced even for me, an ex-bookkeeper.

   I give a wistful sigh, giving up on my attempts to stay in tune with them, and reflect upon what had occurred when Jarod had found Astrea.

   I'm not at all sure what happened between the two, though it surely had to be something monumental, but when they'd found me back at the hotel room they'd both looked worn-out emotionally. I tried to talk to Jarod about it when Astrea was showering, but he'd been quite unresponsive. All I'd managed to discover was that he'd convinced her to come back. In fact, I still don't know why she'd even left. I suppose it might have been out of guilt for trying to attack me, though I have already let her apologize for such things before and don't know why she'd think this time any different. Perhaps it's a female thing. I never was good at understanding ladies and their ways of thinking.

   "Arthur? Arthur!"

   "Wha- what?" I mumble, bringing my thoughts to the present time and refocusing my eyes. Astrea's staring at me with a single eyebrow rose.

   I clear my throat. "I'm sorry, did you ask me something?"

   "Yes. I asked you where you'd like to stay while Jarod and I infiltrate. Do you want to be at a bookstore, back at the hotel, or somewhere else completely?"

   I frown. "Why do I have to be somewhere else? I thought that I'd be accompanying you."

   Jarod and Astrea exchange looks.

   Astrea sighs. "Arthur, you can't come in with us. I told you that when I agreed to let you come."

   I lean back in my seat, my arms folded. "And do you really think you can keep me away from it?"

   Her eyes narrow, and her face is a mask of stone resolution. "Yes, if I must."

   For a moment I feel a twinge of fear, but with desperation I manage to subdue it. I look over at Jarod, who returns my gaze with something akin to pity. I scrunch up my face in anger, and then, oddly, I question my emotions.

   Why do I feel so angry about this? After all she had warned me that I'd not be joining them, and her reasons are sound. Why do I feel the need to go against that decision? It's not like I'd be of any help after all, if what I've been told is true I'd be a hindrance rather than an assistance. And yet…

   "Arthur?" Astrea once again says my name, her expressive eyes searching my face.

   I deflate, and unfold my arms. "I'll stay at the hotel."

   My friend gives a small smile of relief in response to my soft surrender, and then stands to throw her cup away so that we can leave.

   As we head out though, I still think upon why it felt so hard to back down. Why it hurts so much to let them go in and risk their lives while I stay at the hotel, warm and safe.

   Perhaps it's because I worry for them, and don't want them to go it alone. Perhaps I want to prove I can be something besides a timid bookkeeper. Perhaps I want to experience a real adventure, and not just read about one.

   As we approach the car in the parking lot, I tilt my head at another possibility.

   Perhaps I just have a death wish.

2:02 pm, Friday

Blue Cove, Delaware

Indeterminable Location

(Jarod)

I let out a slow breath, sitting in the drivers seat of Arthur's car, Astrea seated next to me. We're parked no more than twenty yards away from the gates that surround the Centre, protected from security cameras because of the blind spot we've chosen.

   "Ready?" I ask her softly, mentally going through the plan we've concocted.

   She nods sullenly and the grip she has on the small black duffel bag's handle tightens.

   "Let's get to it then."

   We both open the doors of the car, and step out into the snow. It's unfortunate that there was a snowfall, as our tracks will be a liability, but there's nothing we can really do about that. We've gotten those who would be a main problem out of the way, come up with a safe and secure plan, and we're going to use the talents that make us so valuable to see us through this successfully. We've done everything we could, and it's time to see if it was enough.

   Slowly and methodically, we make our way to the fence. Once there, Astrea nimbly climbs over, holding the bag's strap between her teeth as she does so. I, however, have a tougher time with the iron bars but manage to get over without too much trouble. But I do manage to end up flat on my bottom in the snow, much to Astrea's amusement.

   After she scans the area with all of her enhanced senses for signs of set off traps or patrolling sweepers, Astrea takes off at a run towards the side of the building I'd told her to go to earlier. As she waits leaning up against the wall, me standing beside her, I search with my hands in the cold white powder at my feet for the buried metal opening I'd discovered in my earlier years at the Centre. Finally my now numbed hand swipes against the smooth steel trapdoor, and with a grin I pull up the handle.

    Astrea drops in first, and I follow after, closing the door after me. Once I've come down the ladder into the underground entrance, I take a look around and realize with slight joy that the room hasn't changed since my previous visit. It's the same musty storage room full of files and boxes that hold the crumbling remains of another time. Besides some added dust and new cobwebs, it's exactly as I remember it. It's a shame that the trapdoor doesn't open from the inside though, or this place would help Astrea and I immensely on our escape. Oh well. As we did last time, we'll just have to come up with another route out.

   Astrea's already by the door out of here, and she looks back at me expectantly, waiting for the "go ahead" to leave and carry out her portion of this mission. I nod, and she gives me a brief smile that's meant to assure me of her safety, and to wish me luck. Then she's out the door and into the sublevels.

   It only takes me a few moments before I've located the air vent opening in this tiny closet like room, and yanked open the rusted grating. I can barely fit in with enough room to crawl, but it's large enough for my purposes. I begin my slow and steady trip through the vents, once again marveling at how Angelo is able to navigate so smoothly through these metallic tunnels.

    Perhaps five or ten minutes later, (I didn't bring a watch), I feel that I've reached my destination. After a few seconds of searching, I find an exit. I listen tentatively for the sounds of others, and peer through the opening, but am greeted by silence and safe passage. Relieved, I cautiously exit the vents, careful to close the grating behind me as softly as possible.

   I'm in the middle of a hallway, that, for the moment at least, is deserted, and I begin scanning the area for the door I need. I spot it quickly enough, and my hand goes to the holster on my belt. For my part of this plan, I need to carry a gun. Astrea had disapproved of course, but trusted me enough to not protest against it. It's only meant for show anyway, and is filled with blanks, so it shouldn't be a problem.

   Doing a last check for watching eyes or lenses, I sprint across the hall and shove open a door, quickly entering and shutting and locking it behind me. I then turn and smile at the faces of the technicians within the room. All of them, about eleven different people, all at their own little computer monitor, gape with open mouths at my sudden, and certainly unexpected arrival. They glance at each other nervously, their eyes wide and darting. They obviously recognize me but are unsure what to do. For a few moments, they seem to be debating whether to try and attack me, contact security, or just be quiet and comply with whatever demands I make peacefully. Five seconds go by, and I decide to help them along a bit.

   I smile widely and pull out my gun, the nozzle pointed towards the ceiling. There are a group of collective gasps, and every one of them slides backwards to the wall in their wheeled computer chairs, their arms raised in surrender.

   They're technicians all right.

   "Hello everyone," I start kindly, in an almost joyful tone. "I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm afraid that you'll all have to just work with me for a while. I don't want to hurt any of you, and I'm pretty sure that none of you want to be hurt. So how about we handle this like adults and help each other out?"

   Their heads immediately begin nodding up and down, and I'm reminded of bobble head dolls. I begin to wonder if I should try to start a collection of bobble heads, because they're so fun to watch and play with, and then remember where I am and what I'm doing, and abandon the thought all together.

  "Now," I continue, gazing over the quivering forms, "does anyone here know how to play the quiet game?"

2:11pm, Thursday

Blue Cove, Delaware

The Centre

Raines' Private Office

(Broots)

"Oh Broots," Ms. Parker coos, running her hands over my chest. "You've been working out haven't you?"

   I give her a cocky little grin and draw her close. She gasps at my touch on her back, that's been partially exposed by her loose, silky nightgown, and then shivers with delight. We stare into each other's eyes longingly, almost hungrily, and then move closer for the kiss…

   BEEP!

   "Wha-?" I mumble, my eyes fluttering open as I slowly wake up. I blink once ore twice, recognize the office I'm in, and then groan unhappily as I realize that the wonderful dream was only a dream. I mumble heatedly under my breath before a yawn cuts in, and then scoot closer in my computer chair to check through the document I'd ordered the computer to encode.

   I glance over it disinterestedly, my thoughts still trailing back to that wonderful dream and secretly hoping that it's a premonition of sorts, when the door is thrown open with such a force that it stirs up the papers on my desk. I spin around in alarm, knowing that Raines doesn't have that type of strength and worried that it's Willie coming to demand I tell him if the message was sent off. But as the door is slammed shut again and I face the person who has entered, my eyes and mouth widen with complete and utter incredulity.

   "As-Astrea?"

   "Broots?"

   We gaze at each other stupidly, shock enveloping us both.

   I take the time to look her over, and recognize a few things off the bat. She's grown a little, not much really, but a little, and she somehow looks more… more feral than usual. Her green eyes seem to carry a slight tint of yellow that's barely noticeable, as if she was in the first stages of transforming. That's strange...

   Astrea stares at me oddly. "What are you doing here Broots?"

   I open my mouth to answer, but find that no sound comes out. I settle for looking at the ground, and she seems to understand. Disbelief is clearly etched upon her flawless features.

   "No," she whispers. "No, no, no…"

   I nod deftly. "It happened Monday." I give a weak laugh that seems to catch in my throat. "I'm still having trouble believing that it's true, but, as you can plainly see, it is."

   "Oh, Broots." Sympathy beyond measure shines in her eyes. She knows what it's like being under Raines. Probably a lot better than I do.

   "So, uh…" I clear my throat. "What are you… what are you doing here exactly?"

   She still looks at me with sadness but she attempts to cover it while she answers.

   "I'm here with Jarod. We're looking for some… for some information."

   I furrow my brow. "In Raines' office? What are you looking for?"

   "A data log entry. I need to find out more on the procedure that made me a feral pretender."

   "Oh."

   We stare in an awkward silence.

    "So, um…" I clear my throat. "Anything I can help with?"
    She gives a small, almost painful smile. "Actually, could you move? I need to get at the computer."

   I quickly comply and stand against the wall. She thanks me, sits down, and begins to search furiously through file after file. I simply stand up against the wall, still a bit surprised at her abrupt appearance, and let my mind wander a it as she searches, wondering if I can go back to sleep after she leaves and finish my dream.

   I'm mulling over many thoughts, about the irony of the situation and how much longer I have to wait before I can go home and set up Christmas decorations with my daughter, when a thought hits me with the force and speed of a bullet, causing me to jump up from my slouched position.

   Astrea turns her head around at my sudden movement, and quirks an eyebrow in question.

   "Something wrong Broots?"

   "Yes, er, I mean no, I, ye-" I growl in frustration. "No, there's nothing wrong but I needed to tell you-- there's a new project at the Centre that Raines and some others are involved in."

   I now have her full attention. She stares at me with a familiar intensity that I'd encountered more than once on our trip together, and slowly rises from the chair.

    "A new project?" she's skeptical, but willing to listen. Weirder things have happened after all.

   I reaffirm my earlier statement with a nod. "Yes, actually I uh, I encoded the document on the project for Raines." 

   She blinks and tilts her head. "Have you told anyone of it?"

   "Uh, no."

   "Can you give me a copy of the document?"

   "Nooo…"

   "But you do know what the project is, right?"

    "Ah, I'm afraid it's a 'no' to that too."

   She stares at me with incredulity. "You don't even know what it is you're telling me about? Broots, if that's the case it could very well be one of the Centre's legitimate projects. They don't just deal with kidnapping and child experimentation you know."

   "I know, but the weird thing was that Raines had me encrypt it with an extremely powerful algorithm. And he was very… very clear when driving home the point that I was not to read it, copy it, or even scan over it. But I did see the title! It's named Project Location."

   "Hmm…"

   I can tell she still doesn't see this in the same light as I do, and I frantically search my mind to come up with another piece of information that will clear away her doubt, when it hits me.

   "Mr. Cox!" I yell with the energy of a drill instructor.

   She raises her eyebrows. "What?"

   "Mr. Cox! He, he was here, and he was talking with Raines, and…yeah." I break off, trying to think of adding on more to my announcement but coming up with nothing.

   She's finally interested. It seems she's heard of the whacko too. "Mr. Cox? But what would make the Triumvirate interested in it…" she breaks off and furrows her brow, brooding over the new piece of information.

    Suddenly, she looks alarmed. "Oh sh- Broots!"

   "Huh?"

   "What time is it?"

   I glance down at my watch, unsure of what this has to do with the project. "It's uh…oh! It's 2:45. Why?"

   She runs over to the computer and I hear rapid typing and mouse clicking. "I'm supposed to be out of here with the info by four and I still have somewhere else to go, that's why."

   She begins to feel her pants pockets and I hear her growl in frustration when she apparently doesn't find what she's looking for. She whirls on me.

   "Do you have an empty floppy or zip disk?"

   I nod deftly, a little put off by her rapid movements. "They're in the drawer on your left, third one down."

   She opens the said drawer and after some speedy rummaging her hand emerges with a zip disc. She inserts it in the computer, and begins to download files, which I'll have to presume are unread and meant for later study. She certainly didn't have enough time to read through any of the documents. I feel a sudden rush of shame as I realize that I might be the reason she ran out of time.

   She taps her nails in a furious rhythm while waiting for the download before abruptly cutting off, as though she's remembered something.

   She hits herself on the forehead. "Duh! I almost forgot." She reaches down into a black pack she'd carried in with her and pulls out a card, a small package, and a festively decorated bag. Each thing has a name attached.

   She unceremoniously dumps them in my arms as my jaw drops open.

   "The card's for Willie, the package is for Angelo, and the bag is for you." she gives me a small and friendly kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas."

   I look down at the items she's handed me in surprise. Then, with a sudden start, I realize I don't have anything for her. I begin to stammer out a thank you while trying to spit out the words that I don't have something for her, but she simply raises a hand to cut off my crooked babble.

   "It's okay, I know you didn't expect me. Besides," her eyes gleam with joy, "Your last gift will last me a lifetime."

   A slow warmth rises at her words, and I almost swell with pride.

   She then checks the computer, sees that it's finished with its task, and ejects the disc, stuffing it in her pocket.

   She grabs her bag and heads to the door. "Bye Broots, until next time."

   I grin. "Good-bye Astrea, merry Christmas."

   She acknowledges the words with a widening smile, and slips out into the hall.

   I set down the gifts on a nearby desk, resisting the urge to open mine, and settle in my computer chair. I let out a long breath, and give a rueful gaze to the ceiling as I take in the fact that I'll have to deliver Angelo and Willie's presents. Broots, aka: Santa Claus.

   I give a chuckle that dies in my throat when I realize something with a sudden horror.

   I forgot to tell Astrea about her sister!

2:42pm, Friday

Blue Cove, Delaware

The Centre

Indeterminable Location

(Astrea)

Damnitt Jarod, why didn't you tell me?

   I hang my head as I walk down what I know is an empty corridor, traveling the route Jarod and I picked out last night. I can't believe he kept this from me. I can't believe he has such a total lack of faith in me.

I could have handled it, it's not like I'd abandon my original mission or anything. But finding out like this… it makes it just that much harder to cope with.

   Poor Broots.

   How did it happen? Was it because I escaped? Did I cause it? No.

   I shake my head to dispel the thoughts.

   Now is not the time to belittle myself, or to feel unneeded guilt. It's over. It doesn't matter how it happened, all that matters is that it did happen. And I can help Broots better if I'm not pointlessly beating myself up about something I didn't do.

   I throw my shoulders back with a mustered confidence and steely resolution. I will deal with Broots' predicament when the time comes, and I will do my best to get him placed back on the pursuit team. I will not take on responsibility for what happened to him, because it is not my fault. But for now I must focus on the task at hand, and complete what it is I set out to do.

   It's time to go get Jarod and inform him that I'm ready to leave.

   I glance around the hall I've entered, scooping to make sure that the sweepers who are supposed to be taking their break haven't come back early, and then silently make my way to the security screening room where Jarod had told me he'd be.

   I knock lightly once on the door, and then drum my fingers in a simple rhythm.

   The door cautiously opens, but in the blink of an eye is throw wide enough for me to scurry in, before it is shut closed once more.

   "Glad you could make it," Jarod says jokingly, though I can hear the relief in his words.

    "Wouldn't want to disappoint you," I return, trying to hide my resentment at the knowledge he kept from me.

   He gives a small smile in acknowledgement.

   "So, how did it go?" I ask him, glancing at the cowering technicians briefly, but mostly ignoring them as I wander aimlessly around the small room.

   "Well enough. I uh… I watched you on one or two of the screens. It seems it went well for you to huh?"

   He fidgets with his nervous hands, still fighting to keep the smile on his face. I narrow my eyes for a moment, knowing that the cause of his anxiety is the fact that he saw me talking with Broots, but I don't call him on it.

   "I saved a copy of nearly all of Raines' files. I should have something on my 'illness' once I sift through it."

   "Good," he nods. "So we can leave now."

   "As long as you're finished wiping the security DSA's clean of my appearance, then yes we're ready to go."

   At this he moves over to one of the computers, but I pay no attention to it, knowing that he's just double-checking his handiwork.

   While he does this, I look at the various monitoring of different levels and areas, not looking for anything in particular but using the images to occupy myself. I notice at first that they're all in color; they must have updated the security systems. I watch executives in their offices, filing papers or holding meetings, people chatting in hallways, and sweepers standing post and patrolling. I can even see footage of the sublevels, and one or two of the Centre's holding cells.

   I'm turning away from a picture of my old 'room', knowing that there's nothing to look at there anymore, when something catches my attention. I stare intently at the image, and then see it again; there's something moving in there.

   With a scrupulous eye and a curious mind I watch as the figure on the screen comes out from a shadowy area of the cell, and folds its arms. I see its shoulders shaking and I realize with a pang of sorrow and pity that it's crying softly. I lean in closer, becoming more intrigued by the moment. Who is this person? I doubt it's one of the old occupants of the sublevels, they were emotionless golems the last time I saw them and wouldn't be capable of showing the pain that is so clearly surrounding this small figure.

   The person moves nearer to the camera, and sits upon its cot, its hair dangling down and obscuring its face. It backs against the wall and hugs its knees to its chest, seeking solace where there is none to be found. It reaches up a small and almost fragile looking hand to wipe away a tear, and ends up brushing away some of the hair eclipsing its face, allowing me to get a good look at what I now realize is a girl who looks just a few years younger than me.

   The figure turns its head to look at the camera, and time seems to slow as I find myself staring into a pair of eyes.

   A pair of emerald green eyes.

   I gasp and stumble back, about to call Jarod over when a loud and sudden alarm goes off, attacking my sensitive hearing, and drawing Jarod's (and probably everyone's) attention.

   We both look at each other in confusion, and then notice that one of the techs has managed to sneak over to a wall panel. His mouth is set in a smile of grim satisfaction, and his hand is cupped over a large red button with the words 'in case of emergency' clearly printed over it.

   Jarod's mouth gapes open for a moment, surprised that one of the techs was bold enough to do that, but he shakes out of it quickly enough and grabs my arm.

   I'm aware that I'm being pulled out the door and into the hall, but though my feet are running fast enough to keep up with Jarod, and my hands are tightly gripping the bag I'd brought with me, I can't think. It's as simple as that. It is as though my sensory systems were all shut down. I'm deaf to the blaring siren that is calling the sweepers of the Centre, I'm blind to the shocked faces of secretaries and lower level workers as we pass them, and I can't register what's going on or where we're going.

    I've gone completely numb from the shock of what I saw on that computer screen.

    Jarod and I reach one of the exits, and he hardly slows his pace at all as he opens the door with a tremendous force. We are now outside, running across the snow covered grass in the direction of our "get-away vehicle". There are shouts rising up from behind us, and I hear a shot or two go off. None of the bullets even come close though.

   For a moment my eyes focus and I see that the fence we need to climb over is just ahead. Jarod follows my gaze and mistakes my strange mood as worry that he might not be able to climb the fence fast enough. He gives me a reassuring smile that does nothing to reassure me of my true problem, and slightly picks up his pace.

    When we're only a few feet from the barrier, Jarod jumps at it and begins a frantic scramble up the bars. I stand still for a moment, still in a daze, before a bullet hits the snow only a few inches from my leg, and effectively gets me in gear.

   After climbing up and over I sprint to the car. Jarod's already in and has gunned up the engine, and after I'm seated and have closed the door, he slams down on the pedal and drives off.

   The pretender next to me breathes slowly for a few moments, smiling. His face is red, and he's out of breath, but the high of the adrenaline in his body is causing him to ignore all that. He gazes over at me with a grin still on his face.

   "That was some run, wasn't it?"

   He then notices the strange expression of shock on my face. "Hey, are you doing okay? What's wrong?"

   I turn my head and look at him slowly, and tears streaks mark my cheeks as I whisper, "everything."

************************************************************************************

    (Sigh) I know it's late, yes, I know, but school is eating me alive. Slowly. From the inside out. I won't abandon the story (ShadowElfBard NEVER abandons a story), and I already have the plot all mapped out, but it's the finding-the-time-to-write thing that's bringing me down. Please review, and maybe your compliments or complaints will get me back in gear.

   P.S

      Eat at school if you must, but whatever you do, DON'T eat the meatloaf!

------Talk to you soon! (If my high school from hell allows me to!)