Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for the usual details

Time to Consider
Chapter 11
By Callisto

L' Orangiere Restaurant
Alvear Hotel – Present
Buenos Aires, Argentina

Norwood ate like a man possessed. It had been a long while since he had the pleasure of eating a substantial meal of definite quality. All his allowance went towards perfecting his invention and left very little for the bare necessities. And with his creation being his sole consuming occupation, he had no other means of support. Usually one of his friends would get a good look at his gaunt features and buy a couple flavorful empanadas for him from a street vendor. Today he was in the lap of luxury and happily polishing off some alfajores, (sweets) for good measure. With a blessedly full belly, Norwood sat back contented.

Sam watched the massacre of each dish brought to the table with studied impassiveness. He waited patiently for the young man to finish stuffing himself before resuming his questioning. The more the kid talked, the more convinced the sweeper became that he knew what happened to Miss Parker and Jarod.

Norwood smiled dreamily at Sam and wiped his chin clear of the messily consumed sweets. He knew the price for such luxury would be high, but he was determined not to reveal the true nature his creation without something more substantial in return. This American hinted that he represented a powerful corporation and that there might be a reward for the return of the two missing people. After the unexpected load those two had placed on the containment field blew out several key components to his invention, Norwood was in the mood to negotiate—replacement parts were hard to come by. To have such a powerfully wealthy concern footing the bill for his scientific endeavors would be a dream come true, but he would have to tread carefully. One thing Norwood understood as well as quantum mechanics was the importance and necessity of financial aid and backers.

"Okay, kid. My turn now, tell me where they are," Sam's gravelly voice demanded softly.

"I saw them on the same day as the shooting," Norwood started slowly. An old hand at lying, he knew when to mix the truth in with the load of garbage he was sprewing. "First one than the other right behind. Then I saw a black van pull up along side of them and they were quickly dragged in before it sped away."

Sam waited to see if that was all the kid had to say. To the sweeper's ears there was a ring of truth in the nerd's story. From what they could determine from a number of eyewitnesses, Miss Parker was following after Jarod before Karl stepped in to take an unauthorized potshot at the pretender, prompting Parker to connect the butt of her 9mm with the back of his head. She had saved Jarod's life because despite whatever Sam thought of Karl, the guy rarely missed hitting what he was aiming at. Still the supervising sweeper had his suspicions about the kid's story.

"A black van? Did you see who was driving or get the license number?"

An incredulous look of disbelief suffused Norwood's features as he heard Sam's questions. No one in their right mind would put themselves in that sort of danger, not over strangers—no matter how courageous they had been. "You must be crazy! Only the most powerful and others no one wanted to tangle with used those tactics—everyone from government agents to gang lords. The last thing any sane person would want is to bring attention to themselves. That's a good way to disappear forever. This may be the new Argentina but some things haven't changed completely."

"So you saw them being forced into a black van you believe may have something to do with the authorities. Why have you been asking questions and coming by to the hotel if you wanted to stay out of it?"

"When I saw nothing in the papers about the abduction, I became curious. I wanted to know if anyone else had seen them as well."

The small beads of sweat that formed on the kid's brow normally would indicate deception but if what he was saying was true and the police had a hand in their kidnapping then that too could account for the skinny kid's nervousness. It was a lead—a doubtful one, but a lead all the same. Sam felt he would have to follow up with the authorities and given their usual secretiveness, that could take some time and negotiation. Visions of his boss being interrogated by the locals didn't sit well in Sam's mind and he doubted the Chairman would tolerate it either, though for different reasons. The sweeper decided to put in a call to the Centre immediately.

"All right kid, I'm buying your story for the moment. In the meantime, we're going to take a little ride," the burly sweeper said as he rose from his seat.

"Ride? Where?" Norwood's nervousness trebled as his widened eyes followed Sam's fluid movements.

"Relax. I want you to show me where they were picked up. I need to have an approximate address for my inquiries.

Norwood relaxed fractionally and rose with Sam. Being escorted from the restaurant surrounded by anonymous-looking corporate thugs was a bit of a thrill and added a Marlow-esque feel to this whole adventure. Next on the agenda was where he would lead them. It would have to be a place that was a convincing distance from the plaza but far enough removed from his workshop and machine. As he directed them to the general vicinity, it came to Norwood where he would take them.

Peron Airport - Present
Buenos Aires, Argentina

Ethan disembarked with a strong feeling of foreboding. He knew he was close to them but the messages from the voices ceased making any sense. All he could glean from their chatter was that he was close to when they had been. Hopefully, the man he needed to find would provide him with more answers. Slowed to a stop, he hastily retrieved a pen and wrote down the address that had been chanting in his mind since he started through the lengthy custom checks. Halting Spanish was all he knew but the written word sometimes spoke volumes—that and money. Ethan started walking again, this time with purpose as he headed towards the airport entrance and the fleet of taxis he knew should be waiting there.

Bio-Arboretum – 6
The Centre - Present
Blue Cove, DE

Sydney looked out at the wakening day with alarm. It had been over a week since he had stepped foot outside of the Centre. Most nights he spent on his couch, waiting by the phone or listening in on Raines' telephone conversations. His worry for Jarod grew with each passing day and at night his dreams haunted him with regrets and should-have-beens. He still hadn't heard from his protégé and all his e-mail messages had gone unanswered. Waiting was something he thought he was well acquainted with as the old man paced his impatience down to a gentle roar.

It was in this attitude that Broots found him. Sydney looked like he aged 10 years since Miss Parker and Jarod's disappearance. He hoped that she was all right but with this continued silence, he had taught himself to expect the worse. This was the longest she had ever been out of contact since he knew her. On young Debbie's suggestion, they went by Parker's place and lightly cleaned the home from the long weeks of neglect. The place was as she had left it along with obvious signs of a search here and there. They had thrown out old foodstuffs from the fridge and cleared the wreckage of Lyle's curiosity. There was nothing there to suggest where she had gone or if she had planned it.

With thin hope he addressed his friend, trying in vain to allay his worries. "Jarod will contact you when he knows it's safe. He's been out of contact longer than this before."

"I know Broots but I can't help but worry. However, Miss Parker has never been away from the Centre or out of contact for this long. I know in my heart that her disappearance is related to Jarod's silence but I keep racking my brains and I just can't come up with a plausible explanation. I'm deeply concerned and there isn't a damn thing I can do to help."

"They both know the risks. She knows what will happen if Mr. Raines gets his hands on her now and Jarod was always aware of what was in store for him if he was ever caught again. What Lyle did and would do to him is etched his brain—like it is in mine," Broots said with disgust. "If the Centre had anything to do with their disappearance, than Jarod would be back here, wouldn't he?"

"Perhaps but that doesn't explain Parker's absence or the fact that her personal sweeper, Sam, has been sent to Buenos Aires to find her. Let's check the files on her this time. Maybe there is something there we missed. A contact or an old acquaintance that she has who may know what happened." With renewed energy, Sydney returned to the complex. After a few minutes reflection, Broots followed, feeling the full brunt of futility crowding in on him.

Through the newly installed, upgraded DSA cameras, Raines had listened to their conversation with interest. Their worry was genuine. From the taps he had placed on their phones and the sweepers watching their every move, neither had any contact with either of the fugitives. Raines was quickly becoming as frustrated as Sydney, though his masters at the Triumvirate, once he was forced to apprise them of the situation, wouldn't be as understanding or as patient. Raines watched as Broots sat down at his station and began scanning Miss Parker's files. He knew the tech would find nothing because he had his own people go through them numerous times, trying to find a lead or a fatal weakness. It was in scanning those files himself, that Raines was reminded of Miss Parker's true importance to her Uncle—she had few weaknesses beyond her obsession with her mother's sanctioned death and total loyalty. Added to that, she possessed a mind enhanced by the effects of the Pretender gene, her true worth was incalculable. Now Raines wanted her back, alive and intact, and if needed, that included by any means necessary.

The Centre – Late 1970's
Blue Cove, DE

Leith Parker stared at the communiqué he had just been given with angry futility. It was a directive, that bordered on an encyclical, issued by his masters the Triumvirate, ordering him to immediately cease searching for his daughter, as he referred to his Angel, instead of the more accurate—niece. As a baby, she won his heart. However after Raines had discovered the testing Jacob had performed on her, he was convinced that the Pretender project was showing more promise than ever before. The others were close but not good enough to keep the project viable and sufficiently profitable. Although Raines went too far in threatening Jacob, the good doctor got the child psychiatrist to give up Angel's test results. More recently Jacob's brother, Sydney had to practically mother her twin in order to extract even the minutest glimpse of brilliance out of him. It was as Parker thought; Angel was closer to the ideal than even her needy, whiney twin and her early college graduation was further proof of it. Conveniently, he chose to ignore the fact that the first few years of Mason's life had been geared towards turning the boy into a sociopath. The challenge that occupied most of Sydney's time involved consistent and inventive efforts to minimize and counteract the early damage done to Mason.

Parker's eyes scanned his desktop when they found a report, sleekly bound in a Centre portfolio. It was from Damon, which indicated that Angel was indeed in Vermont. The sweeper had been beside himself with a mixture of rage and embarrassment at the thought of a seventeen-year-old girl getting the better of him. Added to the humiliation of having to crawl out of the bus luggage hold covered in duct tape and leaves and practically scaring an elderly passenger into an early grave. He would've immediately returned to exact revenge, if Parker hadn't stopped him. Had the sweeper done his job properly she would've been well on her way back to where she belonged. It didn't help that her mother kept filling the girl's mind with poisonous lies about him and the Centre. Standing up, the wiry man with thinning salt and pepper hair and dark mustache began to pace the confines of his office. A strange, possessive pride swelled in his breast at the thought that his daughter had spotted the hapless sociopath and effectively neutralized him. He wanted her back with a vehemence that clouded his mind but self-preservation stopped him from directly defying the Triumvirate. Only he saw the raw potential and extraordinary abilities she possessed. The pretender gene inside her maybe dormant—he still wasn't convinced of Raines' theories--but its effects were blatantly clear for anyone to see. Where his pedantic brother saw a beloved adolescent, he saw much more and would be damned if he'd allow Ben and Catherine to turn their child into a normal girl. A seed of a plan began to form as he continued to pace. He needed Damon back in play but decided a backup/handler was needed. Mr. Cox was eager for his son to rise up the Centre's corporate ladder. The elder's competent and discreet handling of certain deadly, scientific 'mistakes', along with his confidence in his son's abilities prompted Parker to feel out Cox and to judge if his son was indeed the right man for the job. First, he put in a call to the mortician, then ordered the disgraced Damon to meet his new partner, return to Vermont and continue his surveillance. Hopefully this time his sweepers would find out where his brother Ben was hiding his family.

AN: Just a reminder – Mr. Cox's father was a mortician who inspired in his son a love of taxidermy.