Mind's Eye - Part 14
At first, she thought she was in heaven. The bright light consuming her was painful to look at but curious all the same. It was not the way she had planned to die, but what was done was done. The quiet was peaceful and comforting, like a warm blanket on a fall day. It was like she felt when Thomas lay nestled against her back, warm and strong and protective, after making love to her in the dawn hours. She wanted it to be eternal, content to know she never had to return to the Centre or Lyle or Raines. Parker did not even care about the pain it would cause her father that she was gone, assuming that it would pain him at all.
The source of the light around her moved. An opaque torso came into view. The quiet was replaced by something so loud it startled her. The silhouette at her side bent toward her head.
Jarod was calling her name as he peered down at her. Heaven had turned to hell, and she knew at that moment that the pretender was going to be her eternal punishment. She saw his face, noted his concern somewhere in the thick haze of her consciousness, and drifted off to sleep once more.
When she awoke for the second time, a different kind of light was assaulting her eyes. The fog she had been in before had cleared sufficiently for her to catalog her surroundings. Parker found herself strapped to a gurney in the back of an ambulance. There was a paramedic with her. He looked like a body builder, big and beefy with a crew cut to match. He could have passed for one of the Centre's gorillas except he had compassion and actually seemed to care that she was rather helpless when he saw her awaken.
"Take it easy," he said, adjusting the oxygen mask on her face. "Everything's going to be all right."
As if her return to reality was lousy enough, the genesis of pain throughout her body bordered on criminal when she tried to sit up and get her bearings. An excruciating spasm exploded in her right side, just above the hip. It took her breath away, and an involuntary whimper caught in her throat.
"Son of a bitch," she cursed shakily through gritted teeth.
"Hey, come on now," he admonished, "you need to relax." He restrained her with a hand to her shoulder.
She reached up and pulled the mask off despite his protests. "No," she said in a tense voice, "what I need is to get out of here."
"I'm afraid I can't let you go until you get checked out at the hospital. We need to make sure everything is fine where you were hit."
Parker could not readily place the meaning of "hit".
"What the hell are you talking about?"
The medic seemed to take the lapse of memory in stride. "They found you in the woods. You've been shot, but you're one lucky lady."
Like the jigsaw photograph Jarod had left in her house, her memories of how she came to be in such a condition were disjointed and scrambled. None of the pieces would fit to form the entire picture in her throbbing head. All she knew for sure was she hurt immensely and felt a desperate need for her gun, which was no longer in her possession.
"I assume that means I'm going to live?" she asked, closing her eyes to the pain boiling inside her.
"Probably going to be damned sore for a few days, but we're going to get you checked out to make sure there's no internal bleeding. That picture saved your life, but it could still cause damage on the inside."
The fog was seeping into her brain once more. Parker was frustrated because she knew the clue he had given her should have made sense. She should have known what it was he was saying, but her mind was drawing a complete blank.
Her look of confusion at him prompted an explanation. He reached behind the bench he was on and pulled up her equipment vest. From the hip pocket, he withdrew the silver picture frame Sister Mary had given Parker just hours earlier. Near the top left hand corner of the frame was an indentation from the bullet Stoltz had sent at her. The glass plate was gone from the impact, but Catherine Parker's face was still as radiant as ever.
Parker reached for the frame, and he handed it to her so gently, as though it was a fragile piece of the past. Her pursuit of Stoltz through the woods finally connected. She suppressed the sob welling within at the sight of her mother in what was such a frightening moment. Catherine had been there with her in the woods, helping her as she asked. From the grave, she had saved her daughter's life.
Parker touched Catherine's face with a thumb, caressing the image once more. Then she pulled the picture close in an embrace and closed her eyes. Exhaustion overcame her as the ambulance pulled out and moved toward Georgetown Community Hospital.
The next time she awoke, she was exposed to a series of x-rays, pokes and prods, and questions she had no patience to answer. The haze of confusion was gone, and she was hurting. When detectives from the state police arrived to question her on her involvement in the Stoltz matter, they did not seem impressed that she was the daughter of a very influential man at the Centre. As if her current state of discomfort was not enough, she began rooting for a lethal overdose of morphine when Lyle poked his head into the examination room.
She heaved a sigh that was a mixture of frustration and loathing of Lyle's sudden appearance. "Aren't you supposed to be at least a hundred miles out of my sight right now?" she snapped.
Lyle put up his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, sis. From the looks of it, you could use a little backup right now." He picked up the vest she had been wearing in the woods from a chair and held it up for examination. The bullet had ripped a hole in the pocket where the picture had been stored. He snorted. "Looks like I'm about two hours too late."
"Amongst other things," she retorted. "So, I ask you again, aren't you supposed to be on a dream vacation?"
He tossed the vest onto the chair and came to her side. He picked up her chart and began leafing through it. "I never got out of the state of Delaware. Just before I got to the border, I got a call from the sweeper team saying you had mobilized them to get Jarod."
Lyle closed the chart and looked at her directly. "So, why would you go in before they got there? He's nowhere to be found, and you're lucky to be alive. We've managed to satisfy the police for now as to why you were in the middle of this mess. They're content that they have their jailbird in custody. That just leaves us questioning your motives."
"What about Stoltz?"
Lyle seemed annoyed by her concern, but he obliged her. "He's in surgery right now. They're trying to reattach what's left of his foot, but the doctors aren't optimistic."
"And the ranger?"
He gave a dismissive shrug. "The 'hanging by a thread' routine. Stoltz got off a good shot at him. Got off a good one at you, too. Good thing Jarod was there to pull your combat boots out of the fire."
Parker's mind was kicking into high gear with Lyle out of habit. He was saying one thing and meaning another, which meant he was clueless about the circumstances of the entire ordeal. He was looking for an admission on her part about Jarod's presence at Prime Hook, his way of building a case for her ouster from the Centre power structure. Brigitte would certainly weigh in on the entire scenario when it came time for analysis of the events, and there was no telling what she would whisper into influential ears for her own benefit, including Parker's father.
As much as she hated to admit it, Jarod had saved Parker's life, even if it was only indirectly. By putting her into contact with Sister Mary, she had received the picture of Catherine Parker. That picture and the silver frame around it had saved Parker's life. She felt she owed him one break in their rivalry in repayment. She would not sic the dogs of war on him. She would not run after him despite pain and anguish to seek her revenge. He would get one reprieve, and this would be it.
"If he were around, I'd say it with flowers. Unfortunately, he's probably in the next time zone by now."
She was not being sarcastic, really. Jarod had a way of being somewhere safe and out of the reach of the sweeper team sent to find him. Knowing that he felt protective of Neil Case, though, he was probably close by and watching for a break to check in on him. The sweepers would stay vigilant only so long. Then their services would be needed elsewhere and they would move on to another hunt. Jarod would be able to accomplish his task, which was to keep Neil Case safe.
Lyle contemplated her explanation briefly. He knew Jarod's habits from the reports submitted on all the near misses by Parker and the sweeper teams. He thought he was an expert on capturing him. The actual truth was that Lyle had no intuition for Jarod's empathy to the plight of the underdog. The pretender had a weakness, and Lyle simply missed the point every time – Jarod gave a damn about people.
"Probably, and no thanks to you," Lyle jabbed. "Dad's not going to be happy when he hears our little project got away . . . again."
A stab of anger jolted through her at Lyle's condescension. "Well, we all have our moments of failure, don't we, Lyle? You should know that best of all."
Lyle's face flashed a smile, but it was fleeting. He was not about to engage her in that discussion.
"They'll be releasing you soon. Broots and Sydney have your car. They'll drive you home." He turned and headed for the door, stopping to glance back when he got there. "Ciao."
Parker's hand clenched into a fist. Lyle was a frustrating element in her life. He had those in power snowed, including the Triumvirate. Given the opportunity, he would sell out anyone and anything that might get him ahead in the ranks of power at the Centre. Selling out his sister would be no exception. He was a leach, a user among users who selfishly did only what benefit him. She would have to keep her eye on him, watch him at all times until she could solidly restore her foothold in the echelons of authority.
When they released her from the emergency room, Broots and Sydney were there as promised to take her home. The minute she was situated in the back seat of the car, she fell fast asleep. Painkillers had helped with that, but Parker could have zoned out from the sheer stress of the night. She had enough trust in Broots and Sydney that they would not hold her weaknesses against her, especially the need for sleep.
When they arrived at her home, both men offered to stay with her until she was on her feet once more. She refused, as was her demeanor. She could not afford to appear any weaker on the night that she already was, especially to Lyle or Raines.
Her bed felt cool and comforting against her battered body. Parker allowed herself to admit she felt like hell, even with narcotic painkillers in her bloodstream. Stoltz had hit her full-force, as unbelievable as it was. She still had not fully absorbed the notion that a human being could move objects with his mind. It walked the fine line between realism and fantasy. No matter how she sorted the facts, none of it ever resulted in a complete understanding of what the children of Black Arrow were capable of doing given the proper motivation.
What was clear to Parker, though, was how diabolical Raines could be with helpless children. He had gone so far as to order the instant death of one of them. He had no remorse for his actions, for his life continued. That was all that mattered to him.
She, herself, had experienced death, had crossed over into non-existence where a girl named Faith resided. Parker had been content to die then, too. She fought to return to the living when Faith assured her that Catherine wanted her daughter to live. If only she had given in when she had the chance, Thomas would still be alive. There would have been no reason for the Centre to kill him. She felt she would carry that burden of guilt forever in her heart, and no one would be able to convince her otherwise.
She sank down under the blankets and lay on her side. On the nightstand stood the picture frame. The crease from the bullet seemed more pronounced in the soft glow of the lamp. Catherine's eyes pierced her own. Her mother's gaze was strong and determined, yet there was an underlying joy to her smile that Parker yearned for each and every day. It was ironic how a mother and daughter could look so much alike but were two entirely different kinds of people. Parker had cultivated her shell over the years, consciously deciding to keep everyone at arm's length for her own protection. She had lost her mother whom she loved with her very soul. Thomas was the only other true love in her life that had managed to breach her defenses she so steadfastly maintained. Now, he was gone, too. Now, she was alone.
Parker did not remember falling asleep. She did not even dream. She awoke around noon the next day with a brief loss as to how she had arrived in her bed. It all came back in detail when she padded barefoot into the bathroom and looked at her side where Stoltz had shot her. The angry bruise pattern followed the shape of the picture frame, a ninety-degree angle of deep blues, purples and reds. Rage spread through her as all the facts of Black Arrow returned to the fore of her mind. It was a given that she must return to the Centre that day to defend herself and block any attempts to usurp her position. She went on automatic pilot as she gingerly showered and dressed. The drive to the Centre was a subconscious task, one she did not register until she was in the parking lot.
Lyle's convertible was parked next to her slot. He had given up his vacation, no doubt, to take full advantage of Parker's situation. He would squeeze every aspect of the night before in the hopes of spilling her blood and weakening her authority. On the bright side, she reasoned, it was good to know Lyle saw her as a threat. She was by no means out of the loop, as Sister Mary had accused, and she would do whatever it took to stay in it.
Parker threw the car into park and waited a moment before subjecting herself to the pain of exiting the car. With some effort, she was on her feet. She afforded herself a moment of composure, which consisted of holding her breath and daring to breathe once more. She then headed for the back door of the Centre. She went straight to her office and left orders that she was not to be disturbed. As she sat down at her desk, the silence of her life enveloped her once more. Parker could not even justify why she had not stayed in bed. It certainly would have been warranted.
She pulled the Black Arrow files up on her terminal and cycled through the records of the children. She felt despair at knowing the remaining children would be hunted by the Centre. Parker had made a promise to a priest and a nun that she would protect the children. She had lied and led them to believe that fate rested in her hands. She had power but it meant nothing when fighting the combined powers of the Centre. There was no way she could head off Raines and the Triumvirate from following through with Black Arrow and any new generations of research.
The silence of her office was becoming unbearable. It invaded her senses with a paradoxical bombardment of stimulus. It allowed the confusing feelings inside her to surface and take over her mind. She felt her control slipping as the images of Stoltz flickered in her mind. She wanted the bright light to come again and for it to be real. The next time it was offered, she decided she would give in to it and accept its offer of release from the world she knew. Wherever the light led, it had to be better than where she was.
Her side felt hot with pain as she stood up and left her office. Sydney might have found something during the night. If anything, she wanted the details of Lyle's activities while she was out for the count at Georgetown Community Hospital. Sydney was the one man she could trust, at least for the most part, to tell her the truth. The guilt for his past was a powerful tool that Parker was able to wield at the most strategic of times. However, it was a tactic best reserved for crucial moments. Regular use would have dulled its impact.
He was in his office. The light was soft and dim and warm, a soothing contrast to her brightly lit office. Sydney preferred hushed tones of light when he worked, although she found the light level annoying because it made it difficult to read anything.
He looked up at her when she stepped inside and waited in the doorway.
"Parker?" he said. "Is everything all right?"
She was quiet. Nothing was right. It was all blown to hell, and there was no way to put it all back together again. He had told her he would be there to listen if she needed. An argument carried on in her head as to whether or not to reveal all she was feeling to Sydney. No, she thought, she would play it a bit at a time and see what developed. Showing all the cards at once was a dangerous mistake, she knew.
"May I come in?" she asked. Her tone sounded apprehensive in her own ears, though she had not intended for it to be so.
He gave pause. "Of course." When she sat down in the chair on the other side of his, he asked, "How are you feeling?"
She was somber. "Nothing a little ice and a few choice narcotics won't handle."
"The doctors in Georgetown said you were very lucky."
"How's Neil Case?" She did not want to listen to how lucky she was. Stoltz had hurt people, and Raines was probably giddy with delight at the success of his toy.
Sydney's face looked grim. "He's in critical condition. The bullet from Stoltz did quite a bit of damage. Stoltz isn't doing so well, either. He lost a tremendous amount of blood from the wound to his leg. No one is willing to hazard a guess on the survival probabilities of either man."
Her eyes closed, and she sighed. "It never ends, does it, Syd?"
"Life at the Centre evolves. It is in a state of constant change. There are some things that are simply out of your control, Parker. The difficulty comes in discerning exactly what it is that you do have power over and what is out of your hands entirely."
Her eyes opened and focused on him. "I made a promise I can't keep, Syd. I told a nun and a priest that I would put an end to Black Arrow and to the things Raines was doing. Not only did I lie to them, but I'm probably pissing off God in the process."
Sydney's eyes were understanding and warm. "You've done everything you can. You're fighting something that is much larger than just one or two people. You're battling a philosophy, an ideology that is the core of the Centre. Not even your mother could change that all those years ago."
She felt her chest tighten with stress as her emotions surfaced. "My mother at least made a dent in Black Arrow. She at least took a chance at disrupting Raines and his twisted freak show. All I've done is find another target for his robot killer. I've contributed to the project, not protected anyone."
"You were given a directive," Sydney countered. "You don't have a choice but to do your job when that happens. The fact that Lyle ordered you to find those children exonerates you from anything that might result from your efforts."
"Does it?" she contested. "I hear that was a popular excuse for the Nazis a while back."
She looked away, knowing the comment cut to the bone with Sydney. He had been a part of that era, had known the terror inflicted by Hitler's men. Still, she wanted to make a point, and the corollary was there. Her culpability was nearly identical.
If the barb offended him, he showed no signs. He remained passive and in control. "If you were at the top of the food chain, I might agree. However, you've demonstrated your concern for their safety, and that makes all the difference. It's up to you to give yourself the latitude to believe that you're a good person, Miss Parker."
His comment stung so deeply she felt her body flinch. The idea was so contrary to how she felt. "I can't," she whispered.
Parker's eyes felt full as tears welled up in them. She refused to let them fall, fighting for control and maintaining it. She blinked several times and knew the effort was not lost on Sydney. He said nothing regarding it, and she was relieved that he gave her the moments she needed to regain her composure.
Broots appeared suddenly in the doorway, out of breath and looking ultimately nervous. The paper in his hands shook as he approached. Parker beat down the feeling of annoyance at his interruption, but he usually had a good reason when he barged into places.
"Oh good, you're both here," he said, trying to catch his breath. Parker got the distinct feeling Broots might throw up at any moment. He came to her side.
"Miss Parker, I found something I think you're going to want to see," he said so quietly she almost could not understand him.
He held out the paper for her, and she took it. Her brow rose up as she read the words on the page. She looked up at Broots. "Are you sure about this?" she asked.
"It's right off the storage unit. I restored a chunk of memory about ten minutes ago. That's what I found."
She read the words on the page again just to be sure. Her heart was alive again. This was the angle she had been looking for since realizing the consequences of Black Arrow. The paper had the answers on it that would help her to stop Raines and his continuing the experiment. Parker could almost not believe what she was seeing.
She stood quickly and denied the pain she felt. Her emotions were too hot inside to care about aches of skin and bone. She looked at Broots with a determined disposition. "Broots, I want those files erased on the old storage units, and I want you to lock out everything on Black Arrow in the Centre's mainframe."
His eyes were wide with shock. "The mainframe? Miss Parker, they shoot people for doing that!"
Parker smiled with delight at the surge of power and control she felt. "And I'll shoot you if you don't. Take your chances with them or me. Up to you."
She did not give him time to answer. She was heading down the hall and toward the main offices. When Parker approached Raines' office, his assistant tried to stop her. Her hand reached out with agile speed and grasped his neck, cutting off his supply of air. He gagged at the attack on his windpipe.
"Go sharpen some pencils, bagel boy," she gnarled.
She released her grip on him and flung open the doors to Raines' office. Not to her surprise, Lyle was seated there, across from the man who ran the sick experiments of yore at the Centre. She strode up next to Lyle and said, "Leave us."
When Lyle did not move, she glared down at him. "Now," she commanded.
Something about the look on her brother's face told her he had an inkling of what was to come. He looked practically amused at her tenacity. Still, he rose and said nothing in response. Lyle left the office as he was told, leaving Raines and Parker to face one another.
Raines took a deep rasping breath. "Something on your mind, Miss Parker?" he droned.
She folded her arms. "I'm shutting Black Arrow down, you wheezing son of a bitch."
"That's hardly a decision you can make," he said with disdain.
"You made the decision for yourself." She bent down and rested her hands on his desk. "I know who was on the test list for Stoltz. Considering Black Arrow was originally a wash, I thought you would have been smarter than that, especially since you lied to the Triumvirate about when the project began by at least a year. You went behind their backs and started it without authorization."
"The Triumvirate is already aware that Stoltz was programmed to find the children," he admitted, knowing it was pointless to deny the fact with her. "They sanctioned his reactivation, despite my indiscretions in my early years of research. They understood that I was only being zealous about my work."
A victorious smile formed on her lips. She had Raines right where she wanted him. "They sanctioned what you showed them, but I'm willing to bet they would have objected had they known you included some key members of the Triumvirate on the list, including Mutumbo."
The look on his face shifted ever so slightly, and she knew she had struck pay dirt. Parker had turned the tables on him and was in the position of power she rarely enjoyed over those like Raines.
"What do you want?" he said in a grated voice.
He was asking what she wanted to keep quiet about the addendum to Stoltz's hit list. She could have asked for the world, and Raines would have been inclined to give it to her to keep his heart beating. She could have even asked for her freedom from the Centre, but there was something worth more than that. There was something she knew her mother would have demanded because it was the right thing to do.
"I want Black Arrow to disappear. I want you to leave those involved in the project alone."
"I can't control Stoltz. If you read the project files, you know he's already running on a program that can't be stopped."
She held up a hand. "Save it for those more gullible, like Lyle. I know you, Raines. I know you'd never turn something like that loose without an off switch, just in case you suddenly became a target." She leaned in closer. "I want you to deactivate Stoltz and pretend like Black Arrow and any other project like it never existed. Otherwise, there are going to be some very unhappy Africans on the Centre's doorstep in less than twenty-four hours."
"Most of the children have already been found," he argued.
She felt as though her gaze was slicing through his skull. Parker felt sharp and in control again. "Then 'unfind' them," she demanded.
Parker straightened, suppressing the display of pain just below the surface of her hardened face. She turned to leave the office when thoughts of Sister Mary and Father Randall surfaced in her mind. They needed to be left alone, too. She might as well throw their welfare into the mix of demands.
She looked back at him. "Oh, and if someone so much as spits on the sidewalk at Saint Agatha's, Mutumbo's going to be enlightened."
If Raines reacted, she did not see it, for she was swiftly heading out into the main concourse of the office level. Lyle was there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. She stopped when she neared him. He looked satisfied and content.
"Something you want to share with the rest of the class?" she snapped.
He gave a mock grimace. "It was all going so well," he said, "right up to the point where Jarod saved the day."
It took a moment for her to realize what he was saying, and her heart skipped a beat. Sydney had been right. There had been a power play going on, only she could not piece it all together fast enough to make the theory stick. It was unclear whether Lyle was conspiring with Raines or if he was just letting the game play out for his own benefit. Either way, the program Stoltz had been running on would have eliminated so many key figures that the rise up the ladder of power would have been one assisted by wings.
All the while, Lyle had not cared that people were dying. He had not cared that Catherine Parker had risked so much to save children whose only fault was having been given an ability they could control. He had used his sister to find them, to make the program play itself through to the end. He was the only one who benefited from key assassinations within the Triumvirate. He had played her like a chess piece and had almost won.
Lyle pushed away from the wall and walked away, leaving her standing there speechless. He whistled a happy tune only he seemed to know.