Chapter Six
Route 182, outskirts of Blue Cove, Delaware
April 25th, 2001, 3:44 p.m.
"So what's your plan of attack, Agent Scully?" Doggett asked at the wheel and smoothly guided them around a semi.
"I'd like to speak with Mr. Raines, and we'll go from there. Unfortunately, all I have is a tape that shows he's been involved in a few morally challenged experiments. That's not enough evidence for a jury," she answered him and took out a map from the glove compartment.
"No, but it's a good start that'll lead us to a search warrant."
Scully began to unfold the map and trace their path with her index finger. "Might I inquire as to whom you asked for the Centre's whereabouts?"
"Promise me you won't flip out."
"Doggett, I've been very forthcoming with you in the last few months. I expect you'd do the same service to me."
"All right." He took a deep breath. "I went to Kersh."
"And he helped you?"
"Kersh is a good man, Agent Scully. He can just become too legalistic sometimes and stubborn. That's probably why Mulder never got along with him. It had to be Kersh's way or nothing. That makes him a good leader, but also one with an easy downfall."
"So this investigation just happens to swing in his favor. I see." Our department is being run by a man with PMS. Wonderful.
"Do you want me to see if I can get to that other guy...Lyle?" Doggett questioned her.
"I think that would be wise. According to your directions, we should be at the facility's entrance in two or three miles. I don't see anything but trees and coastline."
"Oh? What do you call that?" He motioned with his head to a huge complex that was on the left side of the road just ahead of them and slowed the car down to make the turn.
"At least it has lovely scenery."
Doggett pulled the car into the driveway and came up to a black box that stood about three feet off of the ground in front of two massive iron gates. He rolled down his window and was just about to ask Scully a question when a voice startled him. "Please state your name and employee identification number."
"We don't work here. We're from the FBI," Doggett shouted to the box.
"Please state your names and badge numbers for verification," the voice continued.
He rolled his eyes and gave Scully a peeved expression, who shrugged and removed her badge from a sweater pocket. "Just go with the flow," she whispered and handed it to Doggett.
"Special Agent John Doggett, badge number JT2661500. Special Agent Dana Scully, badge number..." he paused while he opened up the flap, "JT25903710."
"What is your business at The Centre?"
"We're here to see two men; Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines."
"Do either of them expect you?"
Doggett growled and thrust Scully's badge at her chest. She caught it with both hands and a gasp. "Do you think we'll get in any faster if I shoot the damn thing?" he asked her.
"I wish," she groaned. "No, just patiently remind them who we are."
"We're not expected, but we're not party guests. We're agents of the U.S. Justice Department, and we will be obeyed. Now open this gate and let us in," he ordered the person on the other half of the conversation.
Another few silent seconds passed, but thankfully, the metallic gates opened with a large creaking noise. "Please see reception on your way in, Agents," the voice requested as Doggett shut his window.
"Man, this place is huge," Doggett muttered as he guided the FBI fleet sedan up the parkway.
The Centre complex was about two football fields long and consisted of ten adjoining buildings. The lawns were perfectly maintained; every bush had a flawless shape, and the grass was undeniably green. After they parked the car and headed inside the building's grand entrance, Scully was nearly petrified by the sight of two meticulously engineered waterfalls that fed into a pool with goldfish.
Two women with headsets sat behind a marbled desk that matched the saturation of the floor, and Doggett made it there first. He waited for Scully patiently for a few seconds, but eventually, his foot began to tap. She snapped herself out of her daydream, spun around, and joined her partner.
"We're here to see Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines," Doggett told the brunette.
"Mmhmm, you're the FBI agents," she responded. "You'll be wanting to go to SL-2 and SL-8, respectively."
"And how do we go about getting there?" Scully asked.
"Do a 180 from this desk, and turn right at the waterfalls. You'll find a pair of elevators to take you down to your destinations."
"Thanks," Doggett replied. They started to leave, but the woman cleared her throat.
"Wait a second. You'll be needing these." She held up two badges with the word "visitor" blatantly typed across it and set them down on the ledge in front of her. Doggett sighed and took them.
"Great. Why don't we just get name tags?" he lamented as they journeyed to the elevators.
"Or better yet, cow bells around our necks," Scully grumbled. "Keep your phone on vibrate. I want to compare notes when we finish interviewing these men."
"Sure thing, Agent Scully."
"Agent Doggett?" She pressed the call button.
"Yeah?"
"When you called me yesterday to tell me about Will, what did you mean by 'being interrupted again' for bad news?"
"Well, about three years ago, right after I joined the Bureau, my own son was abducted. The toughest cases in the world to be working are the ones that are the most personal, Agent Scully. And I'm awfully sorry that it happened to you."
"I never heard about this."
"You were in the hospital at the time that a case just like it resurfaced. I felt that you had enough to worry about then, so I didn't let on about it."
She nodded in understanding and stepped into the lift with him. "Did you ever find him?"
"Yes," Doggett answered her passively. And he hoped that she didn't ask him about his son's condition at the time. Thankfully, the elevator was quick in its delivery; he left without another word.
He secured the visitor's pass on his breast coat pocket and stopped a black man in a designer suit. "Excuse me, where's Mr. Lyle's office?"
The man's forehead creased, and as he noticed the 'visitor' identifying Doggett as an outsider, he pointed to the FBI agent's left behind himself. "Go through those double doors right there, sir."
"Thanks." The ex-cop went to the doors and pulled them open only to find the office empty. He did admit that this was a huge corporation; Lyle could have just stepped out for a visit to the bathroom or copy machine.
So Doggett walked inside and settled himself into a chair. Moments later, the doors opened, and a man in his late sixties strolled in with a set of folders rested against his chest. He nearly dropped them all as he noticed his visitor, who turned around and got up to help his elder pick up the mess. "You're not Mr. Lyle," he said and scratched his head.
"No, I believe you have the wrong office," the man replied calmly and set the files onto his bureau. "Thank you for your assistance."
"But isn't this SL-2?"
"It is. Perhaps I can help you find it."
"You look awfully familiar," Doggett observed and studied the man hard.
"I don't believe we've been introduced, then. My name is Sydney." He held out his hand to the FBI agent, who accepted it firmly.
"Special Agent John Doggett."
"Special Agent? You're from the FBI?"
"That's right. It's pretty obvious to me now that I was misdirected on purpose—they don't want me to find this Lyle guy. And nothing's more suspicious to me than a man who hides his face from the law."
"Might I ask why you are investigating him?"
"I can't talk too much about it, sorry," Doggett shook his head.
Sydney traveled around his desk, sat, and motioned for Doggett to do the same. He held up his hand. "Look, it was nice to meet you, but I need to speak with..." he paused and reconsidered the invitation, "you said your name is Sydney? You were the one who did all those simulations with Jarod."
"A great majority of them, yes, I did," he nodded. "If you're here why I think you're here, then you should know some more about Mr. Lyle. His sins are not only limited to The Centre's boundaries."
"Is that so?" Doggett plopped himself down into the client chair in front of Sydney's bureau. "Then I'll be needing to ask you some questions, Sydney."
"I'll answer everything as truthfully as I can to help you." He shifted around in his chair and unplugged his phone. "I've kept my mouth shut long enough."
"Maybe something good will come out of their deception." Doggett pulled a notebook out of his suit jacket pocket along with a pen. "Now how long have you been working for The Centre?"
"My first year was 1961. I had just finished my degree in psychology, and I was eager to work with my brother again. He had been working for The Centre for two years already and told me of all the wonderful things they had accomplished."
"Like what?"
"The corporation began slightly after Eisenhower came into office; this was the main branch, and it has long multiplied in growth over the years. We assisted NASA to get onto its feet with the space program. We were also involved with NATO at its genesis. The Centre has helped millions of people, but unfortunately, has hurt many others at the same time. Their downfall started in 1963 when they kidnapped a little boy from his parents' home in the middle of the night," Sydney remarked.
"Was that Jarod?"
"Yes. He couldn't have been more than five or six years of age."
"So you kept him locked away from the world for about thirty years doing simulations. Did you know that some of these simulations were later used to commit crimes against humanity?"
Sydney swallowed a lump in his throat the size of a golf ball. "In the beginning, I had no idea. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing, and later on, as I found out that The Centre was lying to me, several people threatened my life. They also threatened to hurt Jarod if I didn't keep quiet."
"Might I ask who these people are?"
"The powers that be; some of the ones that make the most powerful decisions are not here in this office. Some of them are," he cleared his throat. "Excuse me."
"You mentioned you had a brother. Does he still work here?"
"No, Jacob passed away three years ago. He was involved in a car accident years ago, went into a coma, and died from its complications."
"I'm sorry," Doggett paused from his notes and made eye contact with Sydney. "So since Jarod's gone, what is it that you do now?"
"I still work with the gifted in the simulation lab, and I am a consultant on the team to retrieve Jarod."
"You want him back in here? I saw movies depicting complete torture of this poor man! This is the United States of America, pal. No one owns anyone anymore," Doggett pointed at Sydney with his pen.
"I realize that, Agent Doggett, but I never said that I was a willing participant on that team. None of us are."
"So let me get this straight. You're here to get your corporation's biggest cash crop back, but yet you don't want to? Forgive my ignorance, sir, but that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."
"I only want to protect him from being hurt. I...miss working with Jarod. He was the best Pretender The Centre ever had. When he's safe, I'll leave."
"Do they know how you feel about Jarod?"
"I don't think they truly do, no. If they knew, I'd be dead already." "Now why's that?"
"Because every time someone gets in The Centre's way, he or she is removed from the situation...permanently," Sydney sighed and picked up a half-empty mug to look inside of it.
"I see. Now, I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to get to this character Mr. Lyle. For one thing, who is he?"
"How much time do you have, Agent Doggett?"
"Eons, why?"
"It'll take a while to truly explain this man, and even then, I'm not sure that I could fully satiate you."
"Tell me everything you know."
"To do that, I'm going to have physically to show you some of the things he's done. Most of the evidence is circumstantial, but I'm sure you and the rest of your agents could find something better." Sydney arose from his seat and opened the door for Doggett. "Let's go."
"Where to?"
"A friend that can get you everything you need."
SL-8, The Centre, Blue Cove, Delaware
April 25th, 2001, 4:02 p.m.
Scully was also told to go through a pair of double doors, but she found the office unoccupied. A lingering scent that hung in the air told her that she was not in a man's office; unfortunately she could not identify it. Her eyes swept around the room and observed a glass case with a steel blue semi-automatic pistol that sat about three feet perpendicularly from the desk.
Normally Scully would sit in the chair in front of the bureau and wait until her host arrived, but something piqued her curiosity about this office's owner. She picked up a picture with a silver frame and studied a woman in her thirties grinning from ear to ear with a baby in her arms. Suddenly, one of the doors opened.
"Can I help you?" a deep and sarcastic voice inquired of Scully.
Scully spun around and took in a brunette that was a good six or seven inches taller than she; the woman wore an immensely short black skirt and a closely fitting maroon silk blouse. Scully's face remained non-plussed; she was not intimidated by this woman.
"Yes, you can," Scully replied. "You can tell me where Mr. Raines' office is."
The woman's eyes narrowed, and she snatched the picture away from Scully possessively. "Oh, really?"
Scully gave her full eye contact and leaned one hand on the desk. "Yes...really."
"You'll find him in Hell, and I sure as hell wish that I'll be the one sending him there," the woman spat and set the picture frame gently back on her bureau.
"Look, it's obvious that I'm being given a run-around here, and I'd appreciate it if you could at least point me in the right direction, Miss...-"
The brunette sighed heavily and crossed her arms. "Parker." She peered at the 'visitor' badge on Scully's blazer and did an about face to retreat behind her desk. Parker set the frame back into its place and sat down in her chair. "From the way you dress, I assume you must work for the government. IRS or FBI?"
"FBI." Scully turned to face Parker. "Now if you'd be so kind...-"
"Did you say you're investigating Mr. Raines...the former Dr. William Raines?"
"I really can't discuss any details with you, I'm sorry," she shrugged and glanced over at the encased gun. "Plan on using that anytime soon?"
"Not unless I'm provoked," Parker smirked and chortled sadistically.
"That's a .45 Colt, if I'm not mistaken. What exactly do you do, Miss Parker?"
"I'm a security consultant. It's my business to protect The Centre."
"Hmm...I'm assuming you have that gun licensed."
"Assume what you like. Just because I have a weapon on display doesn't mean that I have to have a permit for it—Delaware's laws aren't the same as Virginia's. You might want to check your handbook before dishing out accusations like that, Agent...-"
"Scully," she said defiantly and arched an eyebrow. "What precisely is it that you protect, Miss Parker?"
"The Centre's interests and investments. If there's a leak, I fix it."
Scully licked her upper lip, glanced down at her badge, ripped it off, and tossed it onto a seat in front of her. This is going nowhere. I'm doing nothing but spinning my wheels, she thought.
"Are you investigating The Centre or Mr. Raines?" Parker questioned her.
"For now, Mr. Raines. That's all I can say."
"If you really want to take him down, I can help you," Parker lowered her voice to a whisper.
"And why would you want to do that?" Scully briefly took a glimpse at the floor and returned her gaze to her companion.
"Because that man is a spawn of Satan, and evil does not belong in The Centre."
Scully nodded in agreement; Raines was a monster, and she had seen what he was capable of. She wasn't quite sure if she could trust Miss Parker, though. She seemed to be a very strong willed and impatient person—neither quality attracted Scully. However, Parker appeared to be offering up a bona fide gesture.
"So you've made your decision?" she asked.
"Assume what you like." She motioned to the photograph she'd been peering at earlier. "Is that woman your sister or your mother? She looks just like you."
"My mother. She was killed when I was very young." Parker directed her attention to the picture and stared at it longingly. "She was murdered in cold blood by Mr. Raines."
"Do you have proof of this accusation?"
"I do, but we have to be very careful of our actions. There are people who would...possibly try to remove us permanently if they knew of this information."
"Would they be loyal to Raines?"
"Yes. But you're going to have to trust me."
"I trust you as far as I can throw you," Scully quipped. "I have no reason to believe that anyone in this building has good intentions towards any American citizen here."
"And why would you think that?"
"Because of the way your company operates."
Parker's face became a question mark. "I don't understand."
"You don't deal with any foreign countries, do you, Miss Parker?"
"I personally don't, but The Centre has branches in Germany, France, and South Africa. Why do you ask?"
"Before I continue, I need some kind of verification from you that your actions and feelings are patriotic and conscientious towards our country."
"Oh...whoops, there goes my red card," Parker rolled her eyes and pretended to throw an object towards her. "Please don't tell me you clueless g-people are out on the hunt looking for Commies again."
"You can rule that one out."
"Or wait...did I forget to mention that I had a bomb strapped to my chest?" She pointed to herself and then gave Scully an annoyed scowl. "You're in the wrong office if you're looking for a terrorist. And you're just starting to piss me off now. I'm offering you information, and all you have to do in return is accept it. What's the goddamned crime?"
"All right, so where is this information?" I hope it's not on some wild goose chase.
"Follow me," Parker motioned with her head toward the door and arose.
"Where're we going?" Scully eyed her warily.
"On a field trip." They left the office and headed for the elevators.
SL-5, Tech Level, The Centre, Blue Cove, Delaware
April 25th, 2001, 4:31 p.m.
"What did you call these movies again?" Doggett asked the hazel eyed man sitting at his work station.
The man was very casually dressed and was just beginning to accumulate gray hair along his barren scalp. He nodded and leaned back in his chair. "They're called DSAs; digital simulation archives. We've been recording them since the '80s on these discs. Before that, they used magnetic tape, and well...we know how reliable that can be after thirty plus years..."
"I'm not that familiar with technology, Mr. Broots."
"So who sent you these recordings?" Sydney questioned Doggett.
"I'm not at liberty to divulge how we got the information."
"Well, it's actually a pretty obvious answer, Sydney. Nobody else has access to DSAs except for people inside The Centre," Broots shrugged. "Sorry, Agent Doggett."
"Broots, make a copy of these DSAs and give it to Agent Doggett. He's our only saving grace at this point."
"What're you talking about?" Doggett wondered.
"We're not very popular around here; all three of us have a tie to..." Broots glanced around nervously and whispered his final word, "Jarod."
"3? I only see two of you."
"I don't think it'd be a wise idea to share this data, Broots. We should keep it only between the two of us...for now," Sydney declared.
"But...but what about Miss Parker?"
"Who's Miss Parker?" Doggett inquired.
"The terror of my life," Broots mumbled and stuck a CD into his computer.
"And you'd better not forget it," Parker's finger jabbed him in the kidneys as he bent over his PC tower.
"Ow! Miss Parker! What're you doing down here?" Broots yelped, immediately sat up straight, and rubbed himself in his sore spot.
"I work here...last time I checked," she smirked and glanced over at Sydney and Doggett. "But you...don't. Let me guess...he belongs to you." Parker pointed to Doggett, then to Scully.
"He doesn't belong to me. He's my partner," Scully corrected her.
"Indeed. Hmm...I didn't know the FBI was taking in Jimmy Stewart rejects."
To that snide remark, Doggett cleared his throat. "I'm Agent John Doggett. Might I ask who you are?"
"This is Miss Parker," Sydney interjected. "Forgive me, Agent Doggett. Hello, my name is Sydney. This is Broots. And you must be..."
"Agent Dana Scully," Doggett finished before she could get a breath out. She glared angrily at him and returned her attention to Broots.
"I've been told you are the man to see about something called DSAs," Scully began.
"Oh, I've been compiling a bunch to give to your partner for the last ten minutes. It's burning now," Broots stated and motioned to the computer beneath him.
"Does it have the one with my mother's death...her real death on it?" Parker asked.
"I...uh...I think so."
"You think? Make it...happen...now," she ordered through clenched teeth.
"W-w-why? I mean, there's more than enough data here to put Lyle behind bars for good."
"I want Raines out of business, too."
"One thing at a time. We can wait," Doggett held up his hand. "I had no idea once we started the investigation that it would be this big."
"How did you start, Agent Doggett?" Parker inquired.
"We received information from-"
"We've been watching your company's stocks and investments for about three months. We picked up a trail of EFTs to follow...and let's just say that your corporation is in for a heap of trouble," Scully interrupted him.
"How so?" Broots wondered.
"The electronic wiring was completed by the likes of two men. Two powerful men...that will pay for their sins."
"So...uh...since the three of us are helping you, does that mean that you're not gonna bust us?"
"They're not prosecuting The Centre, you moron, they're going for Lyle and Raines," Parker huffed and rolled her eyes.
"Is this true?" Sydney interjected and made eye contact with Scully.
"For now...yes," she answered and reached into her jacket pocket. "If you ever have a suspicion that either one of these men is going to commit another crime or harm you, please call us." Scully handed her business card to Parker. "We can protect you."
Parker sneered. "I only trust two men to do that." When Doggett and Scully gave her puzzled expressions, she tapped her hip holster. "Smith and Wesson."
"Well, I think it's a good idea," Broots announced and took a quick glimpse at Sydney, who nodded in agreement. "I've been living in fear in this place for way too long."
"Speaking of time, how long is this process going to take? The usual government wait? 10-14 business days?" Parker snipped.
"We'll let you know," Scully replied and accepted the disc from Broots. "Thank you, Mr. Broots." She turned around and went for the elevators.
"Wait a minute! What about the other stuff?" Doggett yelled and was on her heels instantaneously.
"I'm sure you wouldn't mind staying to get it. If I spend ten more seconds with that Parker woman, I'm gonna shoot somebody." She punched the call button. "I'll be waiting for you in the car."