Pretend Squared
Chapter One
Disclaimer: me no own pretender. #bashes lawyers with club#
Parker stalked down the dark alleyway, casting left and right for any sign of the pretender. Round the corner, there was an extended rattling-clang as one of the sweepers kicked over a garbage bin, possibly out of frustrated malice. The problem with organised search patterns was that they were long, boring, and frequently yielded very little.
The occasional thud and bang could be heard, spreading away from where Miss Parker herself searched, fanning out to meet another ring of sweepers that were holding a perimeter. She refrained from letting out her own anger on the odd dumpster- the noise would let the Rat hear her coming. She wanted to surprise him. And yet, despite her silence, there was suddenly a strong hand covering her mouth, and she was pulled with alarming and irresistible efficiency out of sight from the alley mouth, by an unknown body pressed against her back.
Parker's wrists were clasped in one of her attacker's hands, whilst the other fumbled around her waist before she had time to react. Growling, she kicked as hard as should could backwards…and lost her balance when she failed to hit anything substantial. Her attacker finally managed to free her handcuffs, and with a smooth movement, handcuffed both her hands to the dumpster. Then, removing her gun from its holster, he stepped away from her and into her line off view. Parker nearly had an aneurysm right there.
'Dammit Rat-boy, what the hell do you think you're playing at?' She yanked hard on the chain, and found no give.
He was wearing his usual leather jacket, but his eyes were wild, and there was something strange in his manner, giving him a dangerous look. Keeping his eyes fixed on her, he carefully placed her gun on top of another dumpster and out of her reach.
'We need to talk.'
'Undo these cuffs, right now, and then we can talk about how I am taking your arse back to the Centre.'
'This is important Miss Parker.'
'So important it couldn't wait until three in the morning?' she snapped sarcastically, annoyed that he had captured her so easily.
'You need to keep off my trail for a little while.' He said it earnestly, never taking his eyes off her. Parker couldn't resist the urge to laugh.
'That's what you needed to tell me face to face? That you want a little bit of down-time?' Parker laced her voice with venomous disbelief, trying to ignore the humiliation of having been handcuffed to a dumpster by the labrat. His dark, intelligent gaze bored straight into her, unaffected by her bluffing.
'Miss Parker, after five years out here, the Centre isn't the only large and dangerous organisation who wants me painfully rent limb from limb.'
'Serves you right for acting like Florence Nightingale all the time.' Retorted Parker. She briefly broke his gaze to determine just how far away he had put her gun. He followed her quick glance, and his eyes glinted hardly when she looked back again.
'I don't think you're getting the situation here. The Centre will never catch me. The…other, organisation will never catch me. But the Centre and the other organisation can run into each other, all too easily whilst chasing me, and then a lot of people will die.'
'You underestimate us Rat.'
'No. No I don't.' He said it with an eerie certainty, and Parker knew it wasn't just a boast.
So…what? I just call off the chase, and then what?'
'And then I deal with the other pursuit.'
'Can you be a little more vague perhaps?' The hard glint jumped back into Jarod's eyes at her sarcastic question. Parker got the impression of being some sort of exotic creature behind bars at a zoo- well out of reach of her quarry, yet still attempting to snarl.
'The main step in my plan is to fake my death, followed by being inconspicuous for a while. Both of these things are very hard to do when moving house every three days.'
'No way labrat. I give you even a week's head-start and you'll disappear off the face of the earth. Now let me go, or I'll scream, and there'll be sweepers all over you in a heartbeat.'
Jarod gave her a weary smile, and shook his head. Then, to Parker's horror, he pulled a pad of folded cloth out of his pocket and advanced toward her. 'I just thought I'd ask nicely.' He said almost regretfully, managing to catch her easily and press the cloth over her mouth. Parker had seen it coming, and managed to get a good lungful of air, so she held her breath and struggled hard, trying to scream through the muffling cloth. Jarod waited patiently, avoiding potentially incapacitating elbows and knees that came flying toward him.
Against her will, she felt her chest inflate slightly when she simply couldn't breathe out anymore, and within seconds, her muscles loosened of their own accord and he was soon the only thing holding her up. Jarod removed the chloroform cloth before she could put herself any further under and lowered her gently to the ground, the cuffs pulling tight with a clink.
Parker glared at him as he used the keys for the cuffs to free her. She was unable to move, but still vaguely conscious, and very angry. He re-holstered her gun, and replaced the cuffs on her belt before checking the alley to make sure it was still clear.
'Sorry Miss Parker,' murmured Jarod as he scooped her up, 'it's nothing personal.' He easily carried her out into the alley, then in someone's unlocked back door.
'No luck then Jarod?' Asked a deep, jovial male voice. Parker's head lolled against his chest as she made a desperate attempt to move.
''fraid not Harold. Lead the way.'
Footsteps on wooden floorboards, along a musty smelling corridor, then through a door and down some steps, the light dimming considerably. Jarod paused, and Parker heard a trapdoor slam above, bringing sudden blackness. She could hear only two sets of breathing- her own, and that of the pretender. Harold remained above.
Seemingly able to see in the dark, Jarod started forwards, then stopped and lowered her onto a bed. His presence withdrew and Parker tried to move her limbs against what felt like thick honey. What was worse, a calming peace was spreading through her, and she was having to fight to keep her eyes open.
There was the scrape of a match and the flickering yellow light of a candle played across the ceiling. A few more clicks, scrapes and footsteps that Parker was unable to associate with anything in particular and then Jarod was next to her again. An attempt to reach up and throttle him resulted in a weak flop of her left arm. Her head lolled to the side, and the pretender carefully arranged the pillow to support her.
Silently, he took her pulse on her wrist, checking her pupils as he did so. Parker bridled internally at his touch. Apparently satisfied that he had done her no harm, he sat back.
'The chloroform, Miss Parker, was the quickest way to prevent you screaming. However, it will give you a bit of a headache. That's why I gave you such a low dose. Unfortunately, I need you all the way unconscious for this next bit.'
Parker became aware of the hypodermic syringe he held in his hand and began to struggle in earnest, finding reserves she hadn't known she possessed. Her limbs suddenly responded to her commands, and she caught his wrist that held the needle. Unfortunately, she was still very weak, and Jarod was able to free himself at the same time as firmly capturing her arm. She continued to thrash weakly from side to side, making it hard for him to isolate the vein, so he put the syringe down, and drew a tourniquet around her upper arm. Pulling it tight, he pinned down Parker's arm again and smoothly injected the drug into her.
'No' she mumbled thickly, fighting the astonishingly quick wave of dizziness that swept over her. She took a deep breath as the room swam out of view and the last thing she felt was the tourniquet loosening.
End Chapter One; to be continued.