Disclaimer: Rights to The Pretender world and all its characters belong to creators Craig Van Sickle and Steven Mitchell. NBC owns a share, as do Twentieth Century Fox and MGM.
Due South was created by Paul Haggis and produced by Alliance Atlantis, BBC, CTV television and Pro Sieben Media. It's a wonderful show, mixing action and humor together into a delightfully quirky detective drama. If you've never seen it, I highly recommend the DVDs.
The point is I'm borrowing someone else's creations. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Defining Connection 8
By Phenyx
06/26/2006
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Miss Parker's behavior wasn't as altruistic as Jarod believed.
It never occurred to her that she had a decision to make. There was no conscious choice to safeguard the hostage. Miss Parker was simply following Jarod's lead. She trailed behind him, mimicking his actions without thought.
As she came up beside Jarod, Miss Parker glanced up at him. She frowned in puzzlement. Jarod was smiling at her. He practically glowed with affection. He gave her a brief nod and Miss Parker nodded back, acknowledging the action. After all, she couldn't let the lab-rat know she was confused.
Meanwhile, Fraser and Ray had stopped in front of the warehouse where armed men quickly surrounded them. A large burly character with a shotgun guided Jarod and Miss Parker into the circle of men.
"Victoria," Fraser said gently. "There is no need to harm Ms. Kowalski. Please release her."
The dark-haired woman smiled. Miss Parker recognized the dangerously sweet smile for what it was, a mask. It was a mask that Miss Parker had seen far too often in her life, an alluring grin that hid unfathomable cruelty. Miss Parker had seen such a smile on her twin brother's face countless times. She had seen that smile in her own reflection more than once.
Casting a quick look at Jarod, Miss Parker's confusion slipped away. The hard wariness in his eyes was easy for her to understand. With a twitch of his brow Jarod told her everything he was thinking. Jarod had seen Victoria for the vicious thing that she was. He had not been fooled.
"Well now, what do we have here?" Victoria's voice was soft and melodic as she spoke. She shoved Stella forward, causing the blond woman to stumble and crash into Ray. Victoria ignored the detective's growl and turned to look at Jarod. She raked her gaze up and down his long body. "You're a cop," she spat with fury.
Jarod shrugged.
"You're a long way from New York," Victoria said. "What are you, some kind of Fed?"
"Something like that," Jarod replied.
Victoria's arm swung back and she lashed out at Jarod. The pistol in her hand smashed into his mouth with a sickening crunch. The force of the blow knocked Jarod sideways. Miss Parker stepped toward him to help but she was stopped by one of the gunmen.
"Victoria, please," Fraser groaned. "Please don't do this."
The woman turned toward the troubled Mountie and frowned. Miss Parker felt a surge of relief as the brunette's attention was shifted away from Jarod. "Where's Vecchio?" Victoria asked.
"I'm Vecchio," Ray snarled. As he spoke he changed position, maneuvering his body so that he stood between Victoria and his ex-wife.
Victoria rolled her eyes and sighed. She nodded tersely at one of her henchmen who then stepped forward and rammed the butt of his shotgun into Ray's stomach. The lean detective went down hard.
"Ray!" Fraser and Stella both cried out at the same time.
Victoria bent over the gasping man and asked again, "Where's Vecchio?"
"Florida," Ray choked out. "He's in Florida. Won't be back 'til next week."
"Damn!" Victoria straightened and ran her hands through her hair in frustration.
Ray grinned up at her. "Sucks to be you," he hissed.
A young man in an old army jacket suddenly rode up on a motorcycle. He had a rifle slung over one shoulder and binoculars around his neck. The bike skidded to a halt not far from the gathered men and women. "They've got backup on the way."
"Cops!" one of the other men barked.
The young man nodded. "Lots of them. We've got maybe two minutes before they find us."
Victoria nodded once in acknowledgment. Tucking her gun into her waistband she began giving orders. "Put the Mountie and the fiancée in the truck," she said. Pointing to Jarod she added, "We'll take him too. I've a score to settle with that one."
Turning away carelessly she continued, "Kill the others."
"No!" Jarod and Fraser yelled in unison, their cries nearly lost in the sound of several guns being cocked.
Fraser stepped forward. "Victoria, don't. Ray and Detective Parker are officers of the law. The consequences in this state are absolute. Illinois utilizes capital punishment, especially when cop killers are involved."
Victoria glared at him coldly. "That only matters if I get caught," she told him.
"I won't let you get away with murdering my friends," Fraser whispered. "I won't."
Jarod leapt forward, struggling against the two men who held his arms. His body vibrated with rage. "Listen to me, Victoria," he growled. "You harm my partner and I'll hunt you down. There will be no place you can hide. I will track you to the ends of the earth and make you pay in ways you can't begin to imagine."
Victoria smiled angelically. "I can imagine a great many things, Jarod," she said.
"So can I." Jarod's voice was as cold and hard as ice. The menace in his tone was a palpable thing.
The wail of sirens began to rise in the distance and the kidnappers began to shuffle nervously. "We're out of time," the young man on the bike said.
"Put them all in the truck," Victoria cried. "We'll deal with them later."
Within moments the five of hostages were being bustled through the warehouse and out the back door. A large shipping truck stood in the back lot. As the group was forced into the empty truck's cargo area, a large explosion sounded from the pier. To cover their escape, Victoria and her men had set fire to the dock.
As the truck's cargo doors swung shut, Miss Parker threw herself against them. She screamed in rage and frustration as the clank of a lock echoed within the container. Pounding her fists against the wooden walls, Miss Parker let loose her fury. She was still raging when the walls around them shifted and the truck began to move.
"Miss Parker," Jarod whispered into her ear.
Her reply was an inarticulate snarl.
Strong arms wrapped around her chest and pinned Miss Parker's flailing arms to her side. "Miss Parker," Jarod said again.
With a sigh of resignation, Miss Parker's body seemed to deflate. She sagged against Jarod's chest and let her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. "I hate this," she hissed.
"I know," Jarod said.
"I hate feeling trapped." She told him.
"I know."
Miss Parker tilted her head so that she could look up into Jarod's face. He could have made some wise-assed remark at this point, a snide reference to her efforts to trap him over the last six years. But he didn't. Jarod simply held her tightly against him. For a full minute or more, Miss Parker allowed it. Jarod's arms circled her not in restraint but in a comforting embrace.
When she pulled away, Miss Parker eased off gently. She let her fingertips trail down Jarod's arm as she stepped back. It was her small way of thanking him for his tenderness.
Miss Parker took a moment to look around. Fraser was already walking the length of the cargo area, carefully studying the floor, the walls and the ceiling above him. Ray stood to one side, holding a weeping Stella in his arms as he crooned nonsense to her.
Casting a wry look over her shoulder, Miss Parker cocked an eyebrow at Jarod.
"Shipping container," he said with a meek shrug.
Miss Parker sighed and shook her head. "At least the company is of higher quality this time around," she said.
Jarod grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment, thank you."
"It's not much of one," she retorted. "Lyle sets a pretty low level of expectation in that regard."
"True," Jarod agreed.
Fraser finished his circuit of the area and turned toward his fellow captives. "The container is quite secure," he said.
Jarod nodded. "Only one way in, one way out."
"Where are they taking us?" Stella asked with a sniffle.
Fraser cocked his head to one side as though he was listening to something. Then he said, "West I gather."
Miss Parker looked at Jarod and he nodded in confirmation.
"How can you tell?" the blond woman asked.
Jarod was the one who answered. "The surrounding traffic sounds indicate we are on a two-lane highway. Our rate of speed is varying between 65 and 70 miles per hour. The highways running North and South from the Chicago area are at least four lanes or more."
"Seeing as traveling East would take us into the Lake they call Michigan," Fraser continued.
"Been there, done that," Ray mumbled.
"West is the only option left." Jarod finished. "We could either be on I-90 headed toward Wisconsin or on route 5 to Iowa."
"Iowa," Miss Parker grumbled. "Wonderful."
"There must be a way to call for help," Stella said. She jerked away from Ray and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"Go ahead," Miss Parker snapped. She waved her hand in the air. "Scream your head off. It will do you no good. We're traveling at more than 60 miles per hour. No one will hear you."
"We can't just stand here and do nothing," Stella cried.
"Why not?" Jarod asked. He sat down on the floor and propped his back against the wall. "We just need to show a little patience. Sooner or later, something will happen. We just need to wait for it."
Ray glanced at Fraser then back at Jarod. "I'm not good with waiting Jarod," he said. "I'm really not a very patient guy. Born three weeks early even."
Fraser nodded. "He really doesn't do well with periods of inactivity."
Stella rolled her eyes dramatically. "You can say that again," she agreed.
Jarod shrugged. "We could sing," he suggested. "I know this song about beer bottles…"
"If you start, I will shoot you," Miss Parker warned him. She sat down a few feet away from Jarod and glared at him with real menace.
He grinned. Leaning toward her Jarod pointed out, "But they took your gun away."
"Then I will smother you with your own jacket," Miss Parker hissed. "There will be no singing."
Jarod raised his hands and announced to the others, "There will be no singing, people! Her royal highness has declared, 'No singing.'"
"Understood," Fraser stood in the middle of the cargo area and folded his hands behind his back as though he were standing at parade rest.
"I can't sing anyway," Ray murmured. He sat down opposite Jarod. "Never been a singer. I prefer to dance. I can dance real good."
"Well, Ray," Fraser corrected. "You dance very well."
"Yeah." Ray's head bobbed up and down in a nod. "But there's no music. Can't dance without music."
"And Miss Parker won't let us sing," Jarod repeated.
"So no dancing then either I guess," Ray added.
Miss Parker groaned. "Is it too late to ask the kidnappers to shoot me?"
"Afraid so," Jarod replied with a smirk.
"You will pay for this, Rat."
Jarod snickered. "Looking forward to it, Miss Parker."
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End part 8