Mr. Parker was beyond furious. His daughter was on the loose, with the baby in tow, and Lyle had managed to escape, which meant that the chances of getting her back alive had diminished significantly. That displeased him. He wanted her here, alive. She was insurance. If something went wrong with the boy, she was their only hope of recreating the pretender line. Thankfully, they'd made certain they had the necessary materials. Jarod's death had been a disappointment, but at least bringing his angel and her magnificent son home meant that Parker power would continue to dominate the Centre. If only Mr. White and Mr. Cox could beat Lyle to them. If only...
******
Lyle had considered many locations where he could leave his gift for Jarod. He had finally concluded that subtlety hadn't worked well for him before, so he'd just go for the obvious. He waited and waited until the street was clear, then he made his move. Five minutes after he'd finished, he sat back in his car, smiling. He started the engine and drove away as he reached for his cell phone and dialed.
"Hello?"
"Agent Malone, tell Jarod I got tired of waiting. Tell him I said my sister is next. Oh, I left him a gift on your front steps. Maybe you can find him now."
With that, Lyle disconnected the call, and as he drove away, he imagined the look on Bailey Malone's face when he unwrapped the package left at his doorstep. Even better, the look on Jarod's when he saw what would happen to his beloved Parker once Lyle got his hands on her. That thought made Lyle smile. After all, all he really needed to get back into the Centre was the baby.
******
VCTF Hideout
Jarod chuckles lightly to himself when he sees Miss Parker trying her hardest to avoid him. They had brought in a few supplies and were trying to get settled, but it would have been more pleasant without the silent treatment from her. Her jealousy was something they'd have to work on. If only he could get her to realize that she's the only one for him.
"I'm going to take a shower," Jarod says, finally breaking the silence. "You try to get some rest. You look tired. I'm starting to worry about you."
"Jarod, you know I won't rest until I have my baby back," she whispers, not wanting him to hear the tears threatening to fall. But she sees the look on his face and can tell that he's really concerned. "Okay, if it makes you feel any better, I'll lie on the couch for a while." He smiles at the small victory and heads to the bathroom.
She tries to keep her promise and rest, but her mind stays constantly at work. There's got to be something going on here that she's missing. She can feel it. And that's when it hits her. She jumps up from the couch and start wildly pacing the floor when she realizes what's so disturbing about this whole case.
"What's going on in that mind of yours, Parker?" she hears from Jarod as his soft voice breaks her from her concentration.
"I'm thinking about Lyle," she says bluntly. She looks up at him and he's a little surprised at the determined look in her eyes. "About when I thought he was my brother. Jarod, for so long, I refused to believe it. I didn't want to believe it. But one day, something happened that I couldn't ignore. I actually felt it. I felt him. It was like he was in my blood or something. That we were parts of the same whole. As much as I hated it, I felt like he was my twin."
"But we know that he's not," Jarod interjects.
"Yeah, I know that now. But that doesn't explain how I felt, Jarod," she sighs. "But that's not all. What about all those different identities he was able to have? He even fooled Rachel, and she's a profiler. You would think she would have realized he was using an assumed identity. But nowhere in her case notes does she indicate that. It's like she believed he really was Gideon Warren. Just like I thought he really was my brother. Maybe . . . "
"Maybe what, Parker? What are you trying to say?"
"Nobody comes to the Centre by mistake, Jarod. And if Lyle's there, then there's a reason they have him there. I think there's something about him. I don't really know how to explain it right now, but it's something he can do. He can somehow become other people. It's like he's a pretender, but not quite."
"I think you may be onto something," Jarod says as the wheels in his own head start turning. "But he's not really pretending to be other people, he's actually becoming other people. And those other people he becomes never really leave him. He keeps them on reserve or something and they emerge in different situations. Not unlike some sort of dissociative disorder. But I don't think this is psychological. This is just something he can do - an ability or skill they probably taught him. I remember when I was younger, I used to get so far into a pretend that it was hard to break out of it. Luckily, I had Sydney there as a lifeline back to reality. But what if whoever trained Lyle never was that lifeline? What if they trained him specifically to go too far - and then just left him out there?"
"Essentially turning him into a monster," she concludes with a shudder. "A monster capable of anything. And the worst thing is that they can't control him anymore. We'll never be safe. Jarod, we have to find Rachel. And then get rid of him . . . for good."
******
VCTF Headquarters
"John?" Malone shouted as he started toward the elevator at a run," I've just had a call. Everything about his face was vertical, the lines and folds moving from high to low, paralleling the long, straight nose and ears.
"He left us a present on the door step."
"What?
"That's what I plan on finding out. I want you to cover me. Let's go."
John and Bailey tapped their feet impatiently as they waited for the elevator to come to a stop and once it did, the two men exited in a hurry. When they turned the corner that lead to the front doors, they stopped dead in their tracks. Unwilling to believe what their eyes were telling them. Cautiously, Malone made his way toward the figure that lay just outside the glass doors, when he reached it, he slowly extended a hand and pulled back the blanket to reveal red hair.
"Damn it! Damn it to all hell." He collapsed to his knees and started to remove the blanket that housed the rest of their colleague. John just stared, not really seeing, but using the time to gather himself before he called down to the lab for Grace.
"Come away from her, Bailey. Don't contaminate the evidence, Grace is on her way," John watched as Bailey rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet, trying not to sob and shouting angrily.
Bailey felt trapped, anxious and frustrated. As he entered his office, the phone rang.
"Malone!"
"It's Jarod. John paged me. What's . . . . "
"SON-OF-A-BITCH killed her and then dumped her in front of the building. Said he got tired of waiting for you and perhaps now I could find you."
Jarod's mouth was so dry that his tongue stuck when he tried to speak. He swallowed.
"I'm so sorry, Bailey. As soon as Parker's done with her shower, I tell her and we'll head back."
"We need to nail this bastard, Jarod. He killed one of our own and that doesn't sit well. I also had word that your father is on his way."
******
A human face stared out at Grace, unfamilair. The features altered, converted into a death mask bearing scant resemblance to the person it had once been. Two eyes, shriveled and constricted, peered out from under half-closed lids. The flesh was pasty white, and framing the whole was a mass of red hair, the lusterless waves plastered to the head. She draped the sheet back over the body, stripped off her gloves, picked up her clipboard, and walked out of the room. She closed her eyes and leaned against the door, trying to picture the killer. He left her intact, instead of bagging the bloody pieces and distrubuting the bags with their grisly contents. The gash in her chest gaped raw and bloody, pependicular slashes crossed at ninety-degree angles. This mutilation was the work of a twisted, tormented soul. She looked at the form. Name: Burke, Rachel. She added the police report number, the morgue number, and the VTCF number. Violent death offered no privacy, it plundered ones dignity, she reflected. The body would be handled, scrutinized, and photographed. The victim becoming a part of the evidence, an exhibit, on display, even though she was an active participant, she could not allow that to happen to her colleague.
"Grace," the voice was Bailey's.
"He's a nasty one, Bailey. Thinks he's a goddamn surgeon."
"We'll get him. I promise."
Grace nodded.
******
VCTF Hideout
Parker was towelling drying her hair when a loud crash from the other room caused the walls in the bathroom to shake. She felt a bubble of fear swell in her chest as she walked into the living room. Jarod was standing behind the sofa, his body shaking with rage and anger.
"Jarod?" What's wrong?" she headed toward him, when he looked in her direction.
"Don't!" he held up his hand," I broke the lamp, and there are shards everywhere."
"Why?" as she watched him walk over to her.
"They found Rachel," he said softly.
"I don't understand, why would he let her. . . ." her voice trailed off as she watched his face paled," He killed, didn't he. Jarod?"
He nodded.
"I'll get dressed and we'll head back," she turned to head back into the bedroom, when he placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and let him pull her into his embrace.
"It's time I face him."
"Don't you mean we?" Parker raised her head to look into dark eyes.
"No, I don't. Our son needs at least one of his parents alive, there's still the Centre. Jarod stopped talking and looked at Parker, his eyes starting to dance.
"What?"
"The Centre. How could I have been so stupid?"
"I don't understand, Jarod. What does the Centre have to do with this?"
"I'll use the Centre in order to destroy Lyle and then Bailey and his gang can take down the Centre in process."
"We'll use the Centre," she pulled out of his embrace and headed for the bedroom, emerging fifteen minutes later, dressed and ready to go.
******
VCTF Headquarters
Major Charles was slightly taken aback by the sight of his son and Miss Parker walking into the VCTF Headquarters. Both were pale and visibly exhausted. It was obvious that they were tired - tired of fighting for the happiness they've been looking for their entire lives. But at least now they were fighting together. Hand in hand. Jarod and Miss Parker were holding on to each other as if their lives depended on it. And sadly, that was probably true, the Major thinks with a sigh.
"Dad," Jarod says, his eyes perking up a bit at seeing his father, but still cloaked with sadness. He keeps his hand grasped firmly around Miss Parker's while giving his father a quick hug. "Thanks for coming. Where are the others?"
"Down the hall," the Major tells them. "The baby's fine, Miss Parker. Emily's keeping a good eye on him back at the safe house. She'll protect him with her life," he assures her. She gets a grateful look in her eyes and he can tell she's comforted by the words. She gives him a special smile of thanks.
"I'm going to say hi to Ethan," she says, trying to pull out of Jarod's hold. He was reluctant to let her go, only convinced of her safety as long as they were together. She can see the fear in his eyes and raises her other hand to cup his cheek. "It's just down the hall, Jarod." She pulls him into her arms and hugs him tightly until he finally lets her go.
"What was that about, son?" the Major asks with some concern after Miss Parker is gone.
"I can't lose her, Dad. But I'm afraid I'm going to," Jarod admits. "I've come up with a plan, but she wants to help. And if she does, I'm not sure I can protect her."
"Son, what are you planning? Because it sounds to me that it's something that neither you nor Miss Parker needs to be doing."
As Parker walked down the hall, Jarod wondered how much longer he could fool her and those around him, into believing that taking the risk of inviting a psychopath into his life didn't scare him half to death. A little longer, maybe.
Parker reached the door and glanced back down the hallway and saw Jarod, his father and Bailey huddled together, deep in conversation. Opening the door, three figures were seated at the circular table.
"Angelo, but how?" she sputtered, surprised to find her brother sitting between Jakob and Ethan.
"We had some help," Jakob said as he pushed himself up out of his chair. Parker had noticed that he had grown taller and looked older.
"Help from who?"
"From me," the voice came from the corner of the room and when Parker turned in the direction it had come from, she gasped when she saw Sam step out of the shadows.
"Sam," her eyes wide," Does Jarod know?"
"Of course," he replied, a smile on his face," So where is he? It's time to put an end to this once and for all."
"Good to see you, Sam."
Parker and the others in the room look at the two figures that are standing in the doorway. She watchs stunned, as Jarod advanced toward the sweeper, his hand extended in friendship.
"Care to fill me in, boys?" her eyebrow arched.
The two men looked at the woman standing in front of them, confusion on her features, and laughed.
******
Several hours later, Parker wandered down the hall not certain where she was headed. She was tired, very tired, but she didn't much like having Jarod out of her sight these days and so she'd gone in search of him. Sometime after Sam had filled her in on how the two of them had formed a bond when Sam had been caught in one of the Pretender's traps a few months back. During that time, the two had come to an understanding that they both wanted her kept safe, and so Sam had simply decided to stop chasing Jarod and start helping him. Parker knew that she make her feel better, that these two men, that so many others were around and trying to keep her safe, but she felt chills running up and down her spine on a continual basis.
And then she opened a door that led her further into the face of fear.
Parker saw a body lying on the table, and she knew who it belonged to. She wanted to turn and run, but she felt herself moving toward the table as if pulled by a rope that wouldn't let her stop. Her hand was hovering just above the sheet when she heard the door open behind her. Startled, she turned around and came face to face with Jarod.
"Don't, Parker. You've seen enough."
"She died because..."
Jarod knew what was coming next, and he would not let her carry that. He stepped forward and took Parker into his arms, turning them so neither of their eyes fell on Rachel's still form.
"She died because of the Centre, Parker. She was my friend, and I'm sorry she's gone, but I won't let either of us take the blame for this."
Parker nodded against his chest and after another moment, Jarod led her from the room. They ended up in Bailey's office, and though she protested, Jarod forced Parker to lie down on the couch. Ten minutes later, despite the horrors of the day, she was sound asleep.
Writers:
Shannon
Niceole
Nicky
Trish
Shannon
Michele
Nicky
Trish
Niceole
Nicky
Shannon
Niceole