Mind's Eye - Part 5
By the time Parker returned to the Centre, its operations were in full swing. Workers traveled through the halls with purpose, not deviating or stopping to talk. There was little time for socialization within the walls of the nation's think tank. No one acknowledged Parker as she stepped on to the elevator and pushed the button for the lower levels. The lower levels were restricted. Everyone in the car with her who was not authorized would exit before it descended to her destination.
She carried the gold box in her pocket, feeling impatient to get the evidence to Broots so he could reassemble the parts. Then she could look at it in its entirety and see what it was Jarod was trying to tell her. He was always careful in that regard. Nothing was as it seemed. He never gave the answer outright. There was the ritual task of figuring out the message and finding out how it fit into Jarod's psyche.
Parker's haste to leave the house had left her little time to dress with the care she normally did. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror mounted in the hallway to the labs. Her body was still functional and in good shape. She demanded that much of it to be able to wear the short business skirts and heels that left men panting in her wake. Today's color matched her mood – charcoal gray.
She found Sydney looking over Broots' shoulder when she entered the lab. Broots was typing away like a madman into the Centre's terminal when she tossed the box Jarod had left on the desk.
"What's that?" Sydney said, looking up at her.
"A mystery gift left in my house. I'm assuming it's from the boy genius."
Sydney picked up the box and opened it. He pulled out the pendant, then fished around the picture parts with his finger. Lowering the box to Broots, he gave it to the younger man to examine.
Broots accepted it nervously. He was nervous whenever Parker was around. "A picture?" he asked after a brief look inside the box.
She cocked her head slightly to the side. "And they pay you how much to work here?"
He retreated at her assault. In a way, she regretted the acid tongue she had with him some days. On the other hand, she argued, some people cried out to be abused. Broots was one of them.
"Yes, a picture, Broots. I want it reconstructed pronto."
"Shouldn't be hard," he hazarded, "the parts seemed to interlock, like a puzzle."
The temptation to beat him to death verbally was bordering on the need for a fix. She held her words, though, the silence more effective than any phrase she could have spat at him. Her glare was good enough to send him out of the room in moments.
Sydney leaned against the wall and folded his arms. "I thought you were going to go home and get some rest?"
"And I thought you were going to give me something better to work with to catch Jarod."
"He doesn't exactly make the game easy, Parker. He was given the gift to outsmart the smartest."
Parker dropped down into the chair in front of the desk and crossed one leg over the other. God, how she wished Sydney would just shut up some days and quit expounding on the wonders of Jarod.
"Spare me the museum tour of Jarod's life. He's not breaking into your house to leave you boxes of cut up pictures, now is he?"
Sydney sighed. "Why do you have such a difficult time accepting that you and Jarod are of the same cloth? You have more in common than you're willing to admit."
"Let's get something straight – Jarod is nothing more to me than the key to getting out of here. I don't give a damn about his identity crisis or the fact that he can't seem to hold on to a job like the rest of us. If you have guilty feelings about his childhood, take it up with him. Don't try to factor me in to that mess."
The psychiatrist's brow rose. "I'm afraid you've been a factor for a very long time, Miss Parker. That's not likely to ever change for Jarod."
Her headache returned. So did her longing for a cigarette. Nicotine would have made all this so much easier. Her fingers tapped nervously on the arm of the chair until she realized Sydney was taking notice. "Where the hell is Broots?"
"I'm right here," Broots answered, approaching with same nervous twitches as when he left. "I scanned it in to the system. The computer should have it put together by now."
He stood there, looking at Parker, awaiting her order. His hands were shoved into his pockets. His usual bowling shirt attire looked as trashy as ever.
"Sometime today, Broots?" she said, snapping her fingers.
He jumped at the action. "Right," he said, skidding behind the desk.
He typed away furiously on the keyboard until the picture puzzles became an assembled photograph on the screen. Parker stood and walked behind Broots for a better look. The computer moved the pieces together in a smooth motion until it was complete. The image was what Parker had seen in her home, but it was clearer now. The details came out fully. The pendant in the box was around the girl's neck. The knot was tiny but discernable against the white uniform shirt she wore.
Sydney drew the same conclusion. "She's wearing it in the picture. But who is she?"
Broots spoke. "I can try to run a check on the kids, but I might be able to isolate the school in the background. There's a sign on it."
His fingers flew on the keyboard again, drawing up commands faster than Parker cared to decipher. A crosshair covered the sign followed by a magnification box. The computer continued to blow up the image at with the commands Broots was typing until he had a name on the screen. It read "St. Agatha's Parish School".
"Broots," Parker said, feeling a twinge of excitement at the lead, "find that school. I also want to know what those kids would look like today."
"Assuming they're still alive," Sydney mused. "There's no telling how old that photograph is."
Sydney was right. The picture could have been taken in the forties for all she knew.
"If they're alive, I want to know what interest Jarod has in them," she demanded. "Call me when you have it. I'll be in my office."
Her exit from the lab was swift. She could not stand the thought of chitchat with Sydney while Broots worked his nerd magic on her assignments. Her adrenaline from finding the box was waning. Parker's skin was electric with exhaustion. When she reached her office, she left orders with her assistant that she was not to be disturbed, to include phone calls. With a twist of the lock on her door, she was alone in the quiet confines of the office.
She leaned back in her chair, giving a passing thought to Lyle intrusion the night before and to the smugness he exuded every minute of every day. Some day, she would do something about that.
Sleep was a need crying to be satisfied in her very bones. A few hours of sleep would rejuvenate her and let her continue with her quest to capture Jarod. Her eyes closed without restraint. She allowed herself to drift off into a thick haze of sleep. Restless images bombarded her as they usually did. It was difficult to quell them, which was why she had not slept a complete night's rest in so long. She let the images have their way, not fighting what came into her mind's eye. The past was merciful sometimes, giving her more than just fleeting glimpses of those she loved. Sometimes, she could relive entire moments she held so dear.
This sleep, though, held no images of her family or those she loved. The girl in the picture kept reappearing, the small face and fearful eyes. She seemed familiar to Parker, but where had she seen her? Black and white – everything in the dream was devoid of color. The face was one she had seen before, she was sure. The child reached out to Parker, as if to ask for help. There was only silence. At that moment, Parker awoke and knew who she was.
Just to be sure, she called up Black Arrow's files and found Jeanie's profile. Were they one in the same? Parker could not tell for sure, but it had to be. It would make sense that Jarod would have his finger on the pulse of the Centre and whatever Raines was up to at the time. He had done it before, tipping off Parker personally to secret Centre actions that had big consequences.
She looked at her watch. Three hours had passed since she dozed. Her adrenaline returned with the potential connection she had made. Her reentry into Sydney's lab was at a fast but measured pace. Broots was still there, working on the tasks she had assigned him earlier.
"Broots," she called from the doorway as she entered, "pull up Black Arrow's DSA. Find a child in it named Jeanie and compare it to the one in the photo."
His head shot up at the order. "Oh, o-okay," he stammered as he tried to comply, but it was clear he was skeptical.
She was behind him in moments, eager to see the video once more, eager to know if she had made the right connection. She watched with unvoiced amazement as he isolated Jeanie's face from the DSA record and brought it side by side to the photo's image. With the exception of a difference in hair color, it was definitely the same girl.
"Hey, look at that," Broots exclaimed with wonder, "she's her. I mean, she's the girl."
Parker studied the two images. "Yes, she is," she agreed. "So, what' does Jarod have to do with her?"
"Well," Broots said, swallowing hard, "I may have something for you. I managed to get that age composite done, and I'm running it through the database to see if anything turns up. So far, nothing, but I'll let it run and see if we get a hit."
"Let's see her."
Broots brought up the enhanced image of the girl, showing what she might look like in the present day "I had to guess on the hair, but the face should be pretty close."
Visions of Broots playing paper dolls with the different hairstyles flashed in Parker's mind, and she quickly stomped them away. It was simply too scary to contemplate. Surprisingly, she discovered that his flair for hair design was decent, despite the fact that his was nearly gone. He gave Jeanie somewhat of a bobbed look that seemed to accommodate her features.
"Print it," she ordered. She looked around the lab. "Where's Sydney?"
"He's checking his files to see if there's anything in there about that pendant. There was some writing on the back, something in Latin. He's researching it now."
Parker got the printout of adult Jeanie and took off toward Sydney's lab, eager to tell him what she had found. When she arrived, she found him hunched over the pendant, magnifying glass in hand.
"Sydney, the little girl in the photo and in the DSA are one in the same."
He looked up, startled at her entrance. "Jeanie? How did you make that connection?"
"It doesn't matter," she said dismissing the question. "The point is that we know she somehow ended up at St. Agatha's Parish School."
"I have something for you, as well." He picked up the pendant for her to view. "There's a tiny inscription on the back."
"Broots said you'd found one. What does it say?"
He picked up the pendant and handed it to her. "The words are 'nobles oblige' – 'with nobility, there is obligation'."
"How poetic. What does it mean to us?"
"I'm afraid I haven't come up with that one yet," Sydney admitted. "It may not have anything at all to do with what Jarod is trying to tell us."
"Or it may have everything to do with it," she countered, handing the necklace back to him. "It wouldn't be the first time he's sent us something with that kind of moral swill."
"True, but somehow I don't think this is a message so much as a clue to something we need to do."
Sydney's departure from his usual psychoanalytical reasoning was unexpected. "Care to elaborate?"
"As you said, we've seen this type of message before, but the others have always been in rebellion of his time here at the Centre. The inscription on the pendant suggests there is something that we are obligated to do in order to maintain who we are. He wants us to separate ourselves from the chain of power at the Centre."
She craned her neck to stretch the taut muscles attached to her back. She longed for a straight answer, just once, from the man she was supposed to capture.
"How do you even come up with that from two words, Sydney?" she asked sharply. "Sometimes, I think you make it up."
Sydney grinned. "Miss Parker, keep in mind that the Centre was not always on wrong side of humanity. When people like your mother and father first began work here, it was doing some rather wonderful things for people. It was intended to help the world, not hurt it."
"One hell of a ninety degree turn, eh, doc?"
His grin faded quickly. He had been a part of that turn. He was an active participant in Jarod's imprisonment, justifying it by counseling Jarod in the simulations meant to further the dark endeavors of the Centre. "Yes."
Parker was in no mood to dwell on Sydney's guilty feelings. "In any case, we need to find Jarod. So, how does that pendant help us?"
"It is interesting you should mention the shape of the pendant. It's the Trinity Knot, symbolizing the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Celtic and Catholic in nature, which would be consistent with the nun in the picture. Perhaps it was hers and she gave it to Jeanie?"
"And?" Parker prompted impatiently.
"And nothing, Parker," Sydney replied with a hint of defensiveness. "I'm merely trying to piece this together to get you the answers you need."
His phone chattered with an electronic shrill. He answered and hung up after a few quick words. He turned to Parker. "Broots thinks he's found St. Agatha's."
Parker felt like she was running a marathon around the halls of the Centre, burning holes in the floor between the lab and Sydney's office. Broots was excited as he urged them near the desk to show them the progress he had made.
On the screen was the picture puzzle. "I started breaking down each piece to see if there was something we could use to find the school. Well, as you know, it's always in the last place you look. When I got to the bottom of the picture, I found this.
With some typing, he zoomed in on a segment containing a portion of the curb where the children were standing. On it was painted a set of faint black numbers – an address. "I had the computer enhance the numbers and it came up with 9874. So, I cross referenced it with all the St. Agatha parishes in the U.S. and came up with a hit. Georgetown, Delaware."
Parker drew back, satisfied that she now had direction in which to search for Jarod. "Get me a print of that picture. I'm going to Georgetown."