This is the sixth and final installment of the serial fanfic, "Ghost of a Chance." Thanks to all who have undertaken this journey with me. I hope it's been as fun to read as it has been writing. Any and all thoughts and comments on the ending are welcome to my email address. Liked it? Hated it? Feel free to let me know the answers. Rated PG-13 for content. WARNING: There are deaths of major characters within. Disclaimer: All characters from "The Pretender" are the sole property of MTM Inc., and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. "Dark Side of the Moon" Swikstr <"All that is now All that is gone All that's to come and everything under the sun is in tune but the sun is eclipsed by the moon."> -- Pink Floyd, 'Eclipse' << "Miss Parker, I'd just like to mention one last time that I think what we're about to do is really dangerous. Not to mention *stupid*." She shot him an icy look and grasped the front of his shirt, pulling him toward her until their faces were inches apart. "Don't lose your water on me now, Broots." "But, Miss Parker..." "*Shut up*, Broots. We already discussed this." She began to speak slowly and deliberately, as though dealing with a slow-witted relative. "You've found where they're holding my father. In order to get to him, I need Jarod's help. And to get Jarod's help, I need the location of his family. That just happens to be through this door, in Lyle's office. Now, you're going to brace that matchstick you call a spine, go into there with me, and get the information. Do I make myself clear?" "Y-yes," he stammered. "But how will you know where to look? You didn't have any luck the last time, and even *I* know how difficult it is to find things in there..." he trailed off as her eyes widened at his disclosure. "And just how would you know that, Broots?" she asked in the silky purr that he had learned to identify as Miss Parker at her worst. "I had to get some information for Jarod in here once," he said faintly. "It was a long time ago." "I see," she said slowly. "You didn't think to tell me that *last* time I went on this little adventure? You know, the time I nearly got my ass shot off?" "There was never a good time to mention it," he replied, somewhat lamely, shrugging his shoulders. She looked to the ceiling, wondering for the millionth time how she managed so well when surrounded by such incompetence. "Never mind. I don't have time for this. You're going in there with me and hacking into that stand-alone. And then we're out of here for good." "But I already told you, Lyle doesn't use compu-" "I *know* that!" she snapped, cutting him off. "That's why it will be there, you moron. He knows it would be the last place anyone would look. Now let's get going." She glanced again at the fearful look in his eyes. "You know what they say, Broots," she said, irony coloring her voice. "When it's inevitable, just relax and enjoy it." She opened the door as she spoke and he followed her inside.>> ********* The Centre -- Blue Cove, DE Two weeks later Miss Parker strode down the dark corridor, high heels clicking in an angry staccato as she headed toward the parking structure. It had been a long, boring day. They all had, ever since she'd told Sydney to tip Jarod that she needed a meeting. That was ten days ago, and she'd heard nothing since. She stopped at her car, keys jangling as she got ready to open the door. "Miss Parker," she heard a smooth voice say in her ear as she dropped her briefcase in surprise. Turning slowly, she met Mr. Lyle's piercing gaze. "Working late?" he asked quietly. "As a matter of fact, yes," she answered, trying to regain her composure. The garage was very dark, and the predatory gleam in Lyle's eyes made her vaguely uneasy. "I noticed there have been a lot of late nights for you lately. And Broots. And Sydney." She said nothing, raising her chin and staring directly at him. "Funny how three people who no longer share a common directive keep such similar habits," he remarked, stepping closer to her. She backed up until she felt the cold metal of the car door against her bare legs. "Just a lucky coincidence, I guess," she began. "What exactly is it you wanted, Mr. Lyle?" she asked, forcing an impatient note into her voice. She couldn't allow him to know how much he unsettled her. "I want Jarod, Miss Parker," he said slowly, so close now she could feel the brush of his thighs against hers, and the touch of his breath on her face. It took every ounce of control she had not to turn her head and flinch. "Well, that's not my department anymore. You took me off that assignment long ago, remember?" she said, meeting his gaze steadily. His eyes narrowed. "I remember that we had him back here at the Centre until he mysteriously escaped. I remember hearing about a little jaunt that you and Sydney took to Chicago when you were supposed to be in Denver, and that it was right around the time that Jarod was playing at professional sports there. And more recently, I remember a costly and carefully thought-out operation in San Diego that was somehow blown from the inside. How's your memory, Miss Parker?" "I don't know what you're talking about." "Save it," he said, in a clipped voice as he leaned over until his lips brushed her ear. "I know you've been helping him, Miss Parker," he whispered, softly, dangerously. "I can't prove it...yet. But when I can, god help you and those two lackeys of yours." He straightened suddenly, as two of the tech-room expediters stepped through the door into the garage. "Thanks for all your hard work these last few weeks," Lyle said, loud enough for the techs to hear. "Let's have a drink sometime, shall we?" Miss Parker couldn't find the words to answer. Instead she took advantage of the reprieve to quickly grab her briefcase, unlock the door, and scramble into the car. She cranked the ignition and leaned back in the seat, trying to calm her breathing. He knew. She didn't know how, but he knew. That meant her time was now severely limited. She needed to get to her father. Now. "Jarod, where *are* you?" she asked herself in desperation, as she put the car in gear and headed toward home. ********* She stepped into the dark apartment, nearly tripping on a piece of paper lying in front of the door. "Goddamn it," she said in irritation, as she turned on a light. Bending over, she saw that it was an envelope. She picked it up and noticed the small blue anchor inscribed in the corner. A marine symbol. Her name. Jarod, she thought, tearing it open. Inside was a small key from one of the storage lockers at BWI airport and a note that said only, "TOMORROW -- 5PM." "Now what?" she said softly to herself, straightening. This was probably his way of making sure they weren't discovered. And she was glad, in light of the little encounter she'd just had with Lyle. The last remnants of fear she'd been feeling dissipated with the rush of anticipation she felt at seeing Jarod. Parker hadn't talked with him since California, although she'd heard about the trouble he'd been causing with Centre finances. The disaster in San Diego hadn't put him out of commission for very long. From what she had been able to gather, he'd continued his independent vigilante missions but was focusing more exclusively now on the Centre. He seemed determined to gut the institution by appropriating more and more funds. SIS had also had a few operations broken up as a bonus. Which was probably why Lyle seemed to be walking around in such a murderous rage lately. Even Brigitte seemed nervous around him. Sighing, she put those thoughts away for the moment and headed for the bedroom and the comfort of a long, hot shower. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. She could feel it.... ********* USAir Arena -- Landover, MD The following day Jarod sat back and watched the hockey game unfold before him. He ignored the crowd for the most part as he concentrated on the players' movements, remembering what it had been like to be down there on the ice. Looking over to the visitor's side where the Blackhawks sat, he picked out Jimmy Hall, sitting with the rest of the team. Jarod wished he could go down there, stand at the glass, and catch the eye of the friend he'd made during his stint as a goalie. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. He could never go back and see them. Not Jimmy, not Nia, not Scotty or Simone, nor any of the other people he had chosen to help since his escape from the Centre. They had to follow their own destinies, just as he did. Looking down toward the entrance to the stands, he thought about Miss Parker. Now there was someone who could benefit from that advice. She should have gone forward with her own life years ago. Instead, she continued to pin her hopes and dreams on Mr. Parker, the man who supposedly had all the answers. It frustrated him, knowing that tonight's meeting was merely an extension of that. Jarod had spent a great deal of time since their meeting in California trying to think of the words, the way, to convince her to let this hopeless quest go and come with him out into the real world. So far, the solution had eluded him, though he refused to give up. Besides, there were other distractions to worry about now; namely his family. Soon he would be one step closer to seeing them. He looked at the scoreboard clock absently. Where was she? Just then, he saw a familiar form emerge from the entrance to the stands. She wore a navy suit with a white wool coat. Her hair was swept back and her eyes glittered as she looked up at him. Jarod's breath caught as their gaze met, but he forced himself to keep a blank expression on his face as she made her way up to him. "Hello, Jarod." "Miss Parker." She sat down carefully, turning her attention to the ice. "How nice of you to drag me over here, all the way from Blue Cove, just to watch a hockey game," she said wryly. "Next time, how about just a restaurant or bar?" He looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you liked hockey," he said evenly. "You didn't do this for me," she replied, giving him a penetrating look. "I think you just wanted to see Hall." He didn't answer, and after a moment she said, "Been doing some soul-searching lately, Jarod?" "A little, since we last spoke," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "But don't worry, I still have my purpose clearly in mind." "So I've heard. The coffers are down a few mil these days." She was being remote, making small talk about the Centre, and Jarod knew it was in an effort to keep him at a distance. But he could feel the heat of her body next to his and he guessed she was equally aware of him. "How *are* things at the Centre?" he asked. She frowned at the question. "Not so good. Lyle is riding everyone. His intensity level increases with every cent that you steal. I assumed he'd lighten up once his master plan was implemented, but that didn't happen." Jarod stared at her thoughtfully. "Master plan?" "Forget it," she said. "We don't have time to open that can of worms." "'Can of worms?'" he repeated, looking confused. "Never mind, Jarod." Her patience was slipping. "Can we get out of here to some place where we can talk?" He said nothing, looking at her closely. She seemed tired; afraid somehow, and he realized the pressures from the Centre and the search for her father were having a greater effect. Apparently, the familiar escape their meetings afforded wasn't enough now to offset her inner turmoil. Standing, he indicated the exit and waited as she rose and proceeded down the stairs. He glanced one last time at the ice wistfully, and then followed her out. ********* "So, you've finally found out where they've got your father?" They were sitting in her car in the parking lot of the arena. She had the engine running with the heat on full blast to ward off the winter cold outside. "Yes," she said absently, staring out the windshield. "And Broots and I obtained the location of your family two weeks ago. We need to get this operation on the move." His brain went to full alert when she spoke of his family. "You have that information here? Now?" "No. I didn't think it was wise to carry it around with me," she turned in his direction. "It's hidden in my apartment. But I *do* have it." Her eyes drifted up through her lashes to meet Jarod's. The air seemed very close in the small space of the car, and the tempo of his breathing picked up. He still wasn't sure quite how to handle himself with her now. Their parting in California had left him uneasy in more ways than one, and she had ignored his last attempt to reach out to her. However, he was still able to read people as expertly as always, and could almost feel her pleasure at being here with him. She may have been conflicted, but not about their mutual attraction. He leaned in to kiss her and she paused, closing her eyes for a moment. But just as his lips were about to touch hers, she drew back quickly and looked out the window. "Jarod, we need to get to my father as soon as possible," she said roughly. "There may be some danger brewing at the Centre. Lyle has some disturbing suspicions, and with his current state of mind, he's capable of anything." Glancing back at him, she was captured in his intent gaze. Parker drew a sharp breath as she read the need burning in his eyes. "You look tired," he said then, softly, breaking the electric tension between them. "I *am* tired," she replied bitterly. "It's very taxing living with a split personality. There's the 'Centre Miss Parker', the 'Home Miss Parker' and the 'Jarod Miss Parker'. Some days even I have trouble keeping them all straight." She stopped as he moved in close to her again. He touched his forehead to hers and she savored the contact, drawing on his strength. Finally, she leaned in until their lips brushed faintly. Jarod's hand curved up her neck; fingers threading into her hair as he deepened the kiss. Desire blazed through her, and the feeling was like a tonic for her spent nerves. Relaxing, she made a small, throaty sound as his exploration of her mouth continued. Finally he pulled back and she looked at him. "Listen for just a second," he said, holding her still with his eyes. "I want you to come with me. Right now. Leave all of this fear and frustration behind. We'll be safe. I can make sure of that." "Jarod, wait," she said, surprise and denial coloring her voice. "Please," he continued, speaking faster now. "I know we made a deal, but think about this. We can find my family and disappear, and you won't have to worry about Lyle or the Centre or anything else." He stopped, shocked at the sound of his own vulnerability. The words had just been there suddenly; out in the open before he could stop himself. "No, Jarod," she replied firmly, holding him at arms length as he tried to move toward her again. "You know I've never made you any promises. Hell, after our last meeting, I'm surprised you're even speaking to me. But this is something I have to do, and I won't change my mind." He shot her a look of despair and settled back at her words, saying nothing. Silence built between them, brooding and oppressive. "You know," he finally spoke. "You said a lot of things then, when we were in San Diego. Some of them I needed to hear. Some just hurt me. Now, I feel compelled to do you the same favor." Parker swallowed, then raised her chin and met his eyes defiantly. "What?" "You're expecting too much from this meeting. I can already guess at the outcome. And I'm telling you it's foolish to assume that Daddy's going to give you all the answers you want. Even if you get them, it won't mean that all your problems will be solved and you can suddenly start living again." She drew back as he continued ruthlessly, "You don't even know that he *is* your father." "Are you finished?" she asked coldly. "Yes, for now." "Fine. Now let me tell you something. I'm not leaving the Centre without my father. No matter who he is, or what he's done, he's also the only thing I've got." Miss Parker purposely emphasized the word 'only', knowing her words would hurt him. She was rewarded with the pain that emerged in his expression. It disappeared in an instant though and his lips curved up in a dangerous smile. "That won't work Marine," he said her first name deliberately. "I've seen the look in your eyes too many times when we're at our most intimate. I know how much those moments mean to you. Be assured, you don't have *any* secrets like that left anymore." She bit her lip in frustration. He was right, and she knew it. By her own choice, she had cast her control aside when they were together. Now she was defenseless. Jarod read her thoughts clearly and felt a deep sense of failure. How he wished she didn't see it as some sort of weakness, but rather as a source of strength to build on. He despaired now of that ever happening. What good was knowing she loved him if she wouldn't admit to it? "Where are they holding him?" he asked shortly, returning to the original subject. She sighed and looked down, relieved to be back on familiar ground. "Not too far from here, actually. At a safehouse in some place called Moonlake, in Virginia. Broots tells me it's near Fairfax." "Ah," he said, understanding. "A small favor on the part of the CIA?" "I don't know how it was set up, and I really don't care," she answered distantly. "I just want to see my father again." Jarod was tempted to suggest she take another trip up to Maine if that was what she wanted, but he held off. There had been enough blood spilled for one night. "Give me a few days to do some reconnaissance," he said, waiting until he had her full attention again. "Fine," she said. "But remember that time is of the essence." Jarod knew that of course, but asserting her control over the situation seemed to make her feel so much better. How well he understood her. And he loved her. Intensely. Hopelessly. He made an abrupt decision. If this was what she wanted, he wouldn't stand in the way, but she'd better be willing to live with the consequences. Miss Parker stared at him while he was lost in thought, finally dropping her eyes when she saw him glance at her. Reaching out, he tipped her chin up one last time. "Are you sure you won't reconsider?" She pressed her lips together firmly and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Jarod." "Well, I won't be asking a second time," he said. Ignoring the regret that welled up inside him, he pulled her close again. Miss Parker gave in as he kissed her thoroughly, until she was breathless, light-headed, incoherent. She knew she would be lost soon, as the familiar ecstasy built from within. "Jarod," she began, when his mouth left hers for a moment. "This isn't...a good...idea," she finally managed to get out as she savored the touch of his lips in the hollow of her throat.. He drew back quickly, startling her. "You're right," he said, straightening. He reached down and pulled up a scarf, throwing it around his neck. "There's a lot to be done, and as you've reminded me, no time to waste." She was speechless as he prepared to depart the warmth of the car, thinking that this wasn't supposed to happen. She didn't *want* this to happen. He should have overwhelmed her; persuaded her to give in. Instead he had acquiesced to her protest. Jarod tried to keep a straight face as he sensed the struggle she was going through. He had found the perfect tactic; they didn't call him a pretender for nothing. He opened the car door and stepped out. For Miss Parker, the blast of frigid air was nothing compared to the coldness she felt at his leaving. "I'll contact you when I'm ready," he said, leaning in, dark eyes on hers. "Right," she said weakly, watching as he closed the door and walked over to the black Mustang that he was driving. She raised icy fingers to her burning cheeks and tried to keep from crying at the black well of disappointment that surged as he drove off, leaving her, as always, alone. ********* Moonlake, VA -- Wednesday One week later She pulled the black 4X4 sport-utility to the side of the rural road and clicked off the blare of the radio in annoyance. A classic rock station had been all she could find to tune into and now she would be stuck with The Who running through her head for the rest of the day. Leaning forward, she peered through the windshield. From the landmarks he had described, this *had* to be the place. Jarod watched from the verge 100 feet away as she climbed out and looked vaguely in his direction. He stood and remained still until she saw him. A small smile flitted across her features and she crossed the road, heading in his direction. Watching her approach, Jarod appraised her appearance with frank admiration. She was wearing a pair of close-fitting black leggings and a dark alpaca jacket. He noted the stretchy nylon gloves and black shoes with heavy rubber soles as well. The jacket was just loose enough for the shoulder holster he knew she must be wearing over her turtleneck. "Cool outfit," he said by way of greeting, breath fogging in the cold, windy air. "Oh please, Jarod," she snapped back, irritated for a moment. "You know I was in the field for several years. You could at least trust me to be prepared for an operation like this." "Maybe," he smiled. "Are you carrying?" Parker raised her eyebrows and looked to the sky, as if she couldn't bear this foolishness. "Well what then?" he asked. She drew the zipper of her jacket down and unholstered one of the largest handguns he had ever seen. Ignoring the look of surprise on his face, she held it out for his inspection. "What's that, a cannon?" he inquired, sarcastically. "Not quite, but don't think I didn't consider it. It's a 50-caliber Desert Eagle. Ideal for home protection, or for taking on multiple Centre security goons, if you prefer." She re-stowed the gun quickly. "Don't worry, I've had a lot of practice with it. The recoil isn't much worse than your average .45." "Nice. When did you start carrying that?" "After Boston," she said quietly. "When I learned that a 9mm isn't always good enough to get the job done. Anyway, I don't usually pack this particular gun. I still prefer my S&W, but sometimes difficult problems demand difficult solutions." "Right," he said, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Changing topics, he asked, "I take it you came by yourself?" "Of course. I couldn't ask Broots to take any more chances, and frankly, Sydney has been acting rather strange lately." "Strange how?" "Like he's severely troubled by something. I don't know. It may have something to do with the woman he saw when we were in Chicago." "Did you meet her?" "No, and I don't know who she is; he's never said. But the meeting was quite earth-shaking from what I was able to gather. The funny thing is, he was fine, if a little moody, when we returned. It's only in the last couple of days that he's been so...*remote*." He nodded thoughtfully and then glanced in the direction of the verge. "Are you ready to take a look at this place?" Excitement and a little dread began to mount in the pit of her stomach, and she gave a tiny bob of her head. "Let's go." She followed him over the crest of the hill. ********* <"...she pictures a soul with no leak at the seam..."> -- Peter Gabriel, 'Mercy Street' They had covered about 500 yards of grassy terrain, when they reached a large rise. Jarod crouched down, motioning her to follow as he crawled to the top. Once there, he paused, lying prone on the grass, and she quickly came up next to him. Looking down, she could see the compound below them. It was a small fenced-in, ranch-style estate. The house was medium sized and she could see a separate garage with the door open. One of the Centre's black Lincolns was parked inside. Father beyond, she spotted another hill with a small shed and helipad at the crest. A chopper rested there, next to a small directional windsock. "What the hell are they doing with a helicopter here?" she asked, confused. "I think it's just in case they need to get him back to Blue Cove quickly," he responded. "Traffic through the D.C. area can be murder at certain times, so that would ensure a speedy commute." "Uh-huh," she said, concentrating. "How many sweeper watchdogs does he have down there?" "They rotate a squad of six. The shift changes once a week, although Sam and Willie seem to be assigned here on a constant basis." "Have you seen him?" she asked, unable to keep from asking the question any longer. "No," he replied shortly. "Probably too cold for a brisk walk around the grounds. Or they consider it too much of a risk." He waited a moment before continuing. "Actually, the sweepers seem to be real attentive at the beginning of the week; making rounds, that sort of thing. Boredom usually sets in by Wednesday, so I figure early tomorrow morning ought to be ideal for us to go in." "Did you sim it already?" she said, shooting him an intent look. "Well, yes, and a successful contact is certainly possible, but it won't be easy. I may have had the experience already through the sim, but you didn't, so it's going to take a little preparation to get you ready." "That's fine, Jarod. I'll do whatever it takes." Jarod nodded. "Here, take a closer look with these," he said, handing her a set of binoculars. "I'll get the floorplan so you can see what we'll be up against." Miss Parker gripped the binoculars and peered through them, scanning the house down below. He was in there right now, she thought. Tomorrow, she would finally see him, talk to him, *be* with him again. This search had become something of an obsession for her, ever since she'd seen the memo he signed about her mother's death. She wanted answers, and she had waited long enough. Perhaps after it was all over, she could finally find peace. Jarod came up next to her again, startling her for a moment. She watched as he lowered himself to the ground again and spread the blueprints out in front of them. In her excitement and haste at finally being so close, she had forgotten how good he looked in black. Her cheeks flushed with feeling. Sensing her mood, he looked at her, and his eyes darkened in the way she had become so familiar with. Miss Parker knew he would take her right then and there if she would let him. Instead, she took a deep breath and put a rein on her desire. "You know, Jarod, once this is all over, we may not see each other for a long time. Depending on the outcome, I mean." A veil seemed to drop over his expression, and he looked away. The temptation was there again, to try and talk some sense to her, but he knew the effort would be wasted. Some truths she had to discover for herself. "Let's just concentrate on the matter at hand, shall we?" "That's fine," she replied; the cold, hard mask slipping over her features. "They're keeping him up *here* on the second floor," he indicated a place on the diagram. "The sweepers mainly congregate *here*, on the first floor." She looked at the spot where he was pointing. Directing her attention back to the house, she raised the binoculars and peered through them to the corner room he had highlighted on the blueprints. Sure enough, she could see a couple of suits moving around inside. "Now," Jarod continued. "The best way for us to proceed is to use wire- cutters on the fence here, and then cut through the glass pane in this door on the south side of the building. Don't worry about the alarm; I already took care of that. We'll have to go in late, when the house is dark, but I have two sets of infrared specs that should take care of any vision problems. Once we get up to his room, you can go inside -- I'll keep a post outside the door to ensure you aren't disturbed." Jarod paused, "Any questions?" "No." He rolled the prints closed and slid a ways down the rise until he thought it was safe to stand without detection. In silence, he turned and headed back towards her vehicle, waiting for her to follow. When they reached the truck, she grabbed his arm, turning him toward her. The wind whipped strands of her mahogany-colored hair across her face and she brushed them away absently. "Jarod, thank you for all this." "Never mind," he replied, gaze roving over her features, finally coming to rest on her eyes. "When are you going to tell me about my family?" "If you want me to tell you right now, I will. But I'd rather wait till we get out of there alive." He waited a moment, and then nodded. It would be better to remain focused on one thing at a time. "You're staying in Fairfax?" she asked. "Uh-huh." "Well, I guess I'll follow you back," she gazed back in the direction of the compound wistfully. "This could be the longest wait of my life." ********* Thursday, 2:30 AM Parker watched Jarod's ghostlike movements ahead of her in the greenish glare of the infrared goggles. They had made it through the perimeter fence and were heading stealthily across the property to the south side entrance he had chosen. The night was crystal clear and cold, but she felt nothing as they moved against the wall of the house to the doorway. She gripped the Desert Eagle; the familiar weight of the gun feeling comfortable in her hand. Concentrating, with instincts on full alert, she prepared for the confrontation ahead. There could be no failure this time. Quickly and silently, Jarod cut through the glass pane and opened the door. She entered with a nimble step as he gestured for her to precede him. The whole dwelling was dark; closed down for the night, but they could see clearly with the benefit of the night-vision glasses. She and Jarod crept through the first floor where the sweepers were housed with as much speed as possible, finding the staircase that led to the upper level. At the top, Jarod paused suddenly and she had to grab him to keep from falling backward. Looking over his shoulder, he grasped her arm to steady her. Together, they proceeded down the hallway. He stopped before a door at the end of the long corridor and pulled off the goggles. She followed suit and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Suddenly she felt his mouth on hers as he slid his hand up the back of her head, preventing her from pulling away. Recovering quickly from the shock of the contact, Miss Parker responded to the kiss. Desire combined with the fear and excitement she was feeling, heightening her reaction. But then he released her abruptly, and she almost cried out in protest. "That sensation you just felt?" he whispered. She nodded mutely, in reply. "Don't forget it." Jarod stared at her intently, and then moved out her way to stand next to the door. ********* <"...looking for mercy in your daddy's arms..."> -- Peter Gabriel, 'Mercy Street' Miss Parker padded softly into the room, closing the door behind her. Her gloved fingers fumbled along the wall, next to the door, flicking up the light switch. A small lamp illuminated, filling the room with a soft glow. Her gaze fell to the man sleeping in the bed. His eyes fluttered open at the touch of the light and he sat up slowly, peering in her direction. "Daddy?" She watched as he stood, abruptly awake. He pulled on a robe from a nearby chair and belted it rapidly. "Is that really you, baby?" he asked in voice still hoarse from sleep. "Yes," she cried, stepping forward to fall into his embrace. "Oh my little girl," she heard him whisper tensely into her ear as she gripped him tightly. He pulled back then, to grasp her shoulders. "*What* are you doing here?" Her senses keyed instantly to the faint rebuke in the question, but she ignored the inner warning. "I came to see you, Daddy," she began. "I came to get you out of here." Mr. Parker paused for a moment, then blew out his breath in what seemed to be exasperation. He moved slowly to sit down in the chair. "What makes you so sure I want to leave?" he asked pointedly. Confusion and panic crossed her features as she said, "I don't understand." "No, I'm sure you don't," he replied, falling into his familiar, condescending manner. "Your being here now is going to cause us some real problems." She kept her distance, unmoving, a few feet away. "Daddy, you aren't making any sense. I came here because you've been missing, without a word, for almost a *year*. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to think?" "You *were* supposed to continue your mandate at the Centre," he responded harshly. "If you had done so, rather than poking into matters beyond your concern, I would be back already." "What?!" She couldn't help the outrage in her voice. "That's right," he said. "Shortly after Raines was shot, Lyle summoned me to a meeting where he spelled out the fact that you, Sydney and Broots had become a possible security risk. He was especially concerned about you. I merely agreed to his suggestion that I take a sabbatical at one of the Centre's retreats. Sort of as an inducement to get you back on track." "I don't believe this," she remained standing. Grasping her forehead with her free hand, she finally moved to set the gun down on an end table. "If you knew what I went through to get here..." Her voice trailed off. "You *should* have put that effort into finding Jarod," Mr. Parker said coolly. "I was ready to come back once he was safely ensconced back at the Centre. Instead, I was told there's a suspicion that *you* helped him in his last escape." Mr. Parker gave her a piercing gaze before continuing, "Now you need to get out of here immediately; back to the Centre before Lyle finds out what the hell is going on!" She started to draw back at the reprimand and the brutal command he issued, but then a strange thing happened. A strength she didn't know she possessed seemed to rise up from nowhere. In that instant, Miss Parker thought of all the reasons that had compelled her to seek this destination. Her father's memo, confirming her mother's execution; the search for Jarod's family; Lyle's rise to preeminence at the Centre; countless other things. No matter what he said, no matter what roles he was determined to force her to play, she knew she deserved some answers. He wasn't happy to see her there, that was obvious, but she would be damned if she just left meekly with her tail between her legs. "No, Daddy," she began. "I had several reasons for coming here. If you won't leave with me, then you'll at least answer some questions before I go." He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I've seen the memo you wrote to the Tower concerning Mother's death." She said the words quickly and calmly, keeping a neutral expression on her face. "You know, the one where you gave the authorization for her elimination?" Mr. Parked stared at her in surprise, at a loss for words. But he recovered almost immediately. "More of Jarod's lies?" he asked sharply. "I'm beginning to wish I never gave you that assignment." "Really?" she asked, irony in her voice. "Let's cut the nonsense here, Daddy. You and Mr. Raines gave me that job because you knew about the bond we shared as children. Both of you counted on that to become an obsession on my part for Jarod's return." He leaned forward, ready to argue, but she went on quickly. "No, you two were right. More than you know," she said dispassionately. "It *did* turn into a compulsive desire to see Jarod. But not back at the Centre." She moved back to the door as she spoke, opening it and gesturing out into the hallway. Mr. Parker's eyes widened again in shock as Jarod walked into the room. "Now you know, Daddy," she said in a low, firm voice. "I'm with him now. He's the one who helped me find you tonight." "This is ridiculous," Mr. Parker ground out. "It's your duty to bring in what belongs to the Centre. What happened to the sense of loyalty I raised you to have?" "Let's just say it disappeared into the maelstrom when I saw that memo." Mr. Parker clamped his mouth shut at her words, glaring at Jarod, who merely returned the look with faint amusement. She stepped forward to the chair where he sat, leaning down until their faces were inches apart. "Now you tell me what that was all about, *Daddy*," she said dangerously. Mr. Parker closed his eyes for a moment and turned away from her angry gaze to focus on the floor. "*Is* it real?" she asked, voice trembling with the force of her feelings. "Yes," he finally said in a tortured whisper. He looked up and met her eyes, making a decision. "It's a very long, complicated story, whose roots are buried in the origins of the Pretender Project and the mystery surrounding Jarod's family." Miss Parker raised her chin, stress clearly visible in her clenched jaw. She suddenly looked back at Jarod to see if he heard. Evidently he had, for she could see him leaning forward slightly, almost against his will, like a moth drawn to a flame. "Well, Daddy," she said, turning to face him again. "You have a very attentive audience tonight, I assure you. Why don't you just start at the beginning?" Mr. Parker took a deep breath and started speaking slowly. "It began back in World War Two, during the German medical studies in genetic engineering. You see, they had been searching for a particular type of DNA. The kind that had the potential to produce geniuses with the ability to become anyone they wanted to be..." ********* <"Daddy what d'ya leave behind for me? All in all it was just a brick in the wall..."> -- Pink Floyd, 'Another Brick in the Wall (Part 1)' Dawn broke in the eastern sky, and Miss Parker leaned her head back wearily against the wall as the room began to brighten with the first rays of the morning sun. Jarod sat next to her on the floor, eyes still intent on Mr. Parker, who had finally fallen silent. He had been speaking for hours; relaying with a cold, clinical voice the beginnings of the Pretender Project and the Centre's involvement. The facts he gave them were so disturbing that neither had bothered to interrupt the narrative. All they could do was listen. Miss Parker welcomed the sudden quiet and struggled to organize the myriad of facts that whirled around in her brain: About the German breakthrough and discovery of a DNA strand that contained a code for a near-perfect human mind. About the test subjects that had been sequestered as part of the project; her mother's mother and Jarod's grandparents among them. How the U.S. government had stumbled upon the findings at the end of the war and quickly appropriated the research with the intention of carrying on the program. How the Centre had been subcontracted to continue the project. Then, how Jarod's paternal grandparents had emigrated to the U.S. along with others of the small experimental test community -- her grandmother and Jarod's mother's parents included. And how they had all kept close ties to one another in their new home. How Jarod's father and mother had met through the communal relationships that had been maintained over the years; and that they had married shortly after his father had joined the Air Force. Many of the families that had come over together from Germany retained close ties to the military whose bases they had lived near in the old country. With the benefit of government access to all those records, it had made it very convenient for the Centre to keep track of them. And the children they bred. Then, he began relaying her mother's history... How her grandmother, Catherine's mother, had left the fold in Germany and met and married a British infantry officer with the last name Jameson. And how they too had made the journey to the new world. But the old ties still held and eventually Catherine had become acquainted with Jarod's parents though those very same connections her grandmother had kept alive from the early days during the war. But because of Henry Jameson, her mother's family hadn't been as closely interwoven with the community as the others. So Catherine Jameson's history and medical records had been something of a mystery to the Centre. It was Mr. Parker who had been dispatched to recover that information. That was how her parents had met. Miss Parker had been shocked to learn that her mother's unique medical background was the only reason her father had pursued her. "Once we were married, she saw Centre doctors and we were able to obtain a complete history," he had said. "It was an important acquisition for the Centre. The following year, I was given a position in the Tower." At that point, she had been unable to hide her disgust at his words. Her parents' marriage had been nothing more than a career move for him. Still, she held her tongue, wanting to hear it all. "Catherine carried parts of the original DNA strand," he'd continued. "But it's purity had been diluted by the introduction of her father's genetic profile. *You* have some of the original material in your make-up as well." "On the other hand, the strain present in Jarod, is as potent as in the first candidates that were discovered." She glanced at Jarod. He too had remained silent through Parker's monologue, carefully trying to digest all the facts he was receiving. Mr. Parker went on, "Finally, after some years had passed, we made the decision to start bringing in some of the descendants of the original project for training and research. That's how Jarod and Kyle came to be at the Centre." "With your special background," he'd begun, looking at her. "Some of the researchers suggested you be sequestered for study, but your mother refused. And being in a position of power at that point, I was able to quash the idea." "But by then, Catherine had become terribly upset at the turn events had taken," he'd continued. "She ended up helping Jarod's parents after the abduction, and eventually, after she met Jacob, they began to formulate plans to rescue the children." "I was furious, of course, when it was brought to my attention. In spite of myself, I had grown very fond of your mother, and I was afraid she was putting herself in danger." He'd stopped for a moment, gripped by the memories. "Then Raines went to the Tower with proof of hers and Jacob's illicit activities. Naturally, they took action." At that point, a look of utter weariness had settled on her father's face. "I had thought when Jacob was injured in the accident that it might be enough to get her to stop, but that only seemed to make her more driven. And in the meantime, Raines continued to probe into her actions for the purpose of reporting to the Tower." "I did everything I could to protect her, in spite of her erratic behavior," he stopped again, pressing a finger to his mouth in frustration at the memories. Miss Parker broke in then, bitterly, "How noble." "Oh I know what you must think of me," her father replied. "But these are the facts as I know them." She fell silent again, and waited for him to go on to the next depressing chapter. "Raines finally came to the house that night on Thanksgiving to issue an ultimatum to me. The Tower was ready to take definitive action against your mother. I could resist, and join her fate, leaving you to the powers at the Pretender Project. Or I could step aside, not interfere, and still keep you with me." He'd met her eyes before saying, "I chose the latter." Miss Parker had bit her lip until she'd drawn blood, in anguish at what her mother must have gone through. Suddenly, she'd looked at him again. "What about Ben Miller?" she'd asked. "Is he my *real* father?" "That, I do *not* know," he'd answered, staring off again into the distance. "I was aware of the relationship, of course. Very little of what she did went unnoticed, and I knew what I was getting into when I married her. I always looked at it as him having her for a mere two weeks a year; the rest of the time she belonged to me." "As for your parantage, it was the one secret your mother kept to herself." Mr. Parker had ceased speaking then, looking at the two of them sitting across the room. That was the point they were now at. Miss Parker rose slowly to her feet and Jarod followed. She stopped, standing before him. "How could you, Daddy? How could you do any of this?" He snorted softly in reply and refused to answer. She heard Jarod speak calmly then, at her side, "Who *is* Mr. Lyle, exactly?" Parker glanced up, meeting Jarod's eyes. "You're afraid of him aren't you?" Jarod didn't reply. "You should be," he went on. "He's another pretender, trained after you and Kyle. After the Tower had learned from their mistakes. In essence, he is the *perfect* pretender. He possesses all the finely honed abilities that you have, without a well-developed sense of right and wrong." "A sociopath," said Jarod. "Yes, but not with the psychopathic characteristics that Kyle tended towards." Mr. Parker nodded. "When the time came and he was considered ready, the triumvirate installed him at the highest level. It's his job to pursue the acquisition of power on behalf of the Centre." Miss Parker knit her brow in confusion. Lyle had never seemed that 'capable' to her. She, Broots, and Sydney had been able to thwart him on every occasion. Unless... An ugly awareness began to dawn on her. "What's his real name?" Jarod asked, tension thrumming in his voice. Mr. Parker opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted when the door flew open. Jarod and Miss Parker spun around to see two sweepers explode into the room with guns drawn, followed by Lyle and Brigitte. The sweepers, a man and a woman, grabbed Jarod and pulled him back toward the wall; the woman pressing the barrel of her Glock 9mm to his jaw. Brigitte stepped up and covered Miss Parker, arm outstretched, gun pointing at her chest. Lyle cocked his eyebrows in amusement. "Well, isn't this a pretty picture?" he drawled. He stepped carefully around Miss Parker and Brigitte to stand by Mr. Parker's chair. "And we also have a few more guests..." he indicated the door. Willie and Sam walked in, quickly taking up posts behind Mr. Parker. Miss Parker gasped then as Sydney and Broots entered the room, followed by two other gun-wielding men in dark suits. "You know, Brigitte and I were headed here, and we just happened to run into Dr. Greene and Mr. Broots on the way," Lyle continued in his mocking, jovial manner. "Funny how coincidence works, isn't it?" Miss Parker glared at him, hatred burning in her expression. "What? Speechless, Miss Parker? I'm shocked," he finished sarcastically. He looked then at Jarod, eyes ablaze with malice. "You two thought you were so clever," he spat. "Too bad you never figured out that this was a trap that I engineered from the very beginning." Lyle gave a menacing laugh when he noticed Miss Parker's expression. "Did you really think I was that stupid?" She shrank back as he reached out to coil a strand of her hair around his finger. "You did everything exactly the way I expected you to, my dear Miss Parker. Of course, had we caught you two earlier, that would have been a special bonus. But it doesn't matter. You ended up exactly where I intended you to." Jarod looked over at Sydney, seeing the desperation in the older man's eyes while Broots looked simply cowed. He knew it was unlikely that he would get help from either direction. Turning his attention to the impassive faces of the sweepers, he searched for an opening; even the tiniest break in their concentration would do... Meanwhile, Lyle continued his verbal torment of Miss Parker. "You couldn't leave it alone, could you?" he asked. "You should have just let Jarod stay at the Centre when we brought him in and gone off on your merry way like you intended." His voice turned venomous, "Instead, you had to let him go. That decision has cost the Centre *millions*. Well, it's payback time Missy." "Mr. Lyle," they all heard Mr. Parker say. "I'm certain there's some way we can work this out. If you'd just--" "*Shut up*, old man," Lyle interrupted. "You've caused me enough inconvenience as it is, with all your storytelling here today." Lyle signaled to Brigitte and she raised the gun, pushing the cold steel into Miss Parker's cheek. "I'm sure you feel much better now that Daddy's told you *all* our dirty secrets," he said to Miss Parker. "He certainly left no skeleton unturned." "Do geniuses always mix up their metaphors?" she asked, mockingly. His face contorted with rage for an instant at her taunting, then he regained control. "Good one," he smirked, turning to Mr. Parker again. "But now I'm afraid you'll have to learn the cost of telling tales out of school." At that, Brigitte smiled, eyes glinting malevolently in anticipation of what was to come. Jarod began to struggle, alarmed at Lyle's words. They would kill her without a second thought. Right there in front of them. He was sure of it. The man holding Jarod responded by giving him a sharp blow to the midsection. But before he could double over, the woman gripped his throat and jammed the gun brutally in his face. "Now, Jarod," Lyle warned. "Be a good pretender and behave yourself." He glanced over at Sydney and chuckled again, evilly. "Too bad your mentor taught you to obey your conscience," he sneered, turning back to Jarod. "You didn't have to have one you know. It's a lot easier when one isn't bothered by adolescent morality." Features hardening suddenly, Lyle looked back at Miss Parker. "Unfortunately, *Daddy* got an attack of the guilts and spilled. Now you know everything. And in my position, I simply can't allow that." He nodded finally at Brigitte, while Jarod, Sydney, and Broots all closed their eyes, waiting. Miss Parker looked in the cleaner's eyes defiantly, flinching as the shattering noise of the gunshot filled the room. Jarod's eyes flew open, then widened in amazement at the sight of her still standing. "Daddy!" he heard her cry out, and he realized that Brigitte had been aiming at *Mr.*Parker when she'd pulled the trigger. An eerie silence arose for an instant as Sam and Willie both knelt at Mr. Parker's side, checking for some sign of life. "It's over, you two," Lyle's voice broke into the quiet. "Sir, you had no such authorization from the Tower for this," Sam rasped, looking at him in anger. "Quiet," Lyle snapped. "You aren't paid to think about these things. And if you insist on doing so, then remember: there's plenty more bullets in Brigitte's gu --" He broke off as Miss Parker began to sob softly, sinking to the floor. "Oh my god...Daddy..." Brigitte moved back, looking disgusted. And Jarod could only watch, feeling her anguish as his own fury mounted. Then, he saw her eyes flick up to his for an instant, in mid-wail, and he read the determination that flared in her expression. He understood suddenly what she was going to do. Just as her fingers touched the floor, Miss Parker knew it was time to act. She'd seen the flash of comprehension on Jarod's face, and trusted that he would follow her lead. Without warning, she lunged toward Brigitte, knocking the lighter woman off balance. All she needed now was to get to her gun that rested on the small table at her father's side. As Brigitte began to fall, the two sweepers guarding Jarod instinctively moved forward. The tiny opening was all he required. He whirled, striking the man in the face with the heel of his hand. The sweeper dropped to the floor like a stone and Jarod turned, grabbing the wrist of the woman; the same hand that held the gun. He twisted around until she was behind him, her arm tucked under his as she fought to retain control of the weapon. Miss Parker heard the scuffle as if from far away as she scrambled toward the table... She felt, rather than saw Brigitte regain her equilibrium, and she spun, pushing the woman again, grabbing for the Glock in the cleaner's hand. Sydney had only watched up to that point, frozen in shock, and he finally shook himself free. Elbowing Broots in the ribs, he urged him on, as he began to struggle with one of the remaining sweepers. Taking the hint, Broots began pummeling the other man with a series of short blows. The room dissolved into chaos, and Lyle watched with a calm detachment, waiting for some clue, some hint of the outcome; a key that would reveal which was the most productive course of action. Jarod finally wrenched the gun from the female sweeper, shoving her back into the wall with enough force to knock the wind from her. Armed now, he stepped toward Miss Parker and Brigitte. Parker had struck the woman in the mouth and the cleaner lurched backwards, arms flailing in an effort to regain her balance. Turning for an instant, Miss Parker could see that Jarod was free. "Run!" she screamed, seeing him hesitate. "Get out of here! Get to the chopper! We're going to need to make a quick escape, goddamn it!" Jarod froze for a second, knowing her logic was sound but not wanting to leave them. "Jarod -- go!" she shouted again. He turned, fleeing the room. Lyle chose that moment to mobilize himself into action. "Brigitte, get him back here. Now!" he thundered as the cleaner stumbled from the room, chasing after Jarod. Just then, the sweeper that Jarod had stolen the gun from grabbed Miss Parker from behind. As the two fought, Miss Parker glanced at Sam and Willie, who had not moved a muscle since the conflict began. For a split second, she wondered why. Putting the thought out of her mind, she concentrated on the sweeper and her Desert Eagle, lying on the table so tantalizingly out of reach. Lyle followed her gaze and moved toward the table for the gun, shouting at Willie and Sam as he did so, "Get the lead out, you two, or I'll sign your death warrants today as well!" Both stared at him. Neither moved. By then, Sydney and Broots had overwhelmed the last two men, disarming both. Broots held them at gunpoint while Sydney advanced on Miss Parker and the woman whom she was struggling with. At that moment, Lyle grasped Miss Parker's gun, screaming at Sam and Willie, "I said get moving -- *right* fucking now!" The two sweepers glanced at each other, making a decision. Willie drew his gun suddenly, pointing at the two women. Sydney jumped back at the loud report of the automatic, watching as the female sweeper fell, blood seeping from a wound in her side. "You sons of bitches," Lyle began, in a maniacal rage, as he raised the gun toward Willie. Another shot rang out, and Lyle looked at Sam, surprise and disbelief blooming on his features as his eyes dropped down to the dark stain spreading across his midsection. He fell back then, letting go of the gun and trying to compress the gunshot wound in his gut. Gasping in pain, Lyle made a final, desperate lunge for Miss Parker. Sam fired again, this time hitting him in the head. Lyle sank to the floor, motionless. Miss Parker gave herself a quick shake, trying to regain her bearings now that the multiple threats seemed to be over. One sweeper was unconscious; the other dead. Broots was covering the other two, and they seemed to have no need to fear Sam and Willie. "Miss Parker," she heard Sydney say suddenly, urgently. "Go after Jarod! He needs your help; Broots and I have control of the situation here!" His words snapped her to attention. The last she had seen, Brigitte had been following after Jarod. And she had her gun. Parker grabbed the Desert Eagle, lying on the floor next to the still form of Lyle and darted from the room without giving the others another glance. Jarod was in mortal danger -- she needed to save him before it was too late. ********* Silence descended upon the room at her departure, save the rasp of Sydney's breathing. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm his inner turmoil. "Jesus." He heard Broots say, dazed. Sydney stepped over to Mr. Parker and felt for a pulse. He gave up after a moment, realizing that the man was dead. He turned to Sam. "Why did you two help us?" he asked, disbelief evident in his voice. "You'll have to ask Jarod about that," Sam responded. "Wait a minute," Sydney said incredulously. "You're telling me that Jarod *knew* about Lyle? That he planned all this??" Sam shrugged, clearly indicating that Sydney was on his own in figuring this out. Then Willie spoke, "Dr. Greene, let's just say that we owed Jarod a favor from a while back. And he's a man who likes to hedge his bets. Evidently, Mr. Lyle made the mistake of underestimating him one time too many." "Unbelievable," Sydney muttered, heading back toward Broots. His head jerked up at the sound of another gunshot from outside. "My god. Miss Parker, Jarod..." he trailed off, meeting Broots' eyes, both moving quickly to the door. ********* <"Only love Can bring the rain That falls like tears from on high..."> -- The Who, 'Love Reign O'er Me' Miss Parker sped down the main stairs, bursting through the front door and pausing on the porch, trying to remember the direction of the helipad. She heard the explosion of a gun somewhere behind the back of the house and she vaulted over the side railing, landing heavily on the ground. Taking a deep breath, she headed swiftly in the direction of the noise. The sun had fully risen long before, and the terrain ahead was lit in a bright glare as the frost on the ground sparkled and winked at her. She could see Jarod, far ahead, running in an erratic path toward the helipad. Brigitte was about 500 feet behind him and gaining rapidly. The cleaner had evidently discarded her high-heeled boots in an effort to make pursuit easier. Running and gasping for breath, Miss Parker shouted as she saw Brigitte stop and take careful aim with the Glock at the fleeing figure of Jarod in front of her. "Jarod, LOOK OUT!!" He glanced over his shoulder, slowing for a moment at the sound of her voice. Brigitte chose that instant to fire, and Miss Parker felt her gut wrench at the sight of him stumbling and falling to the ground. "NO!" she screamed, raising her gun. She focused on the familiar feel of the automatic, gripping it in both hands, one braced beneath the other, steadying it. She readied herself and sighted down the barrel, as she had on the range so many times in the past. The inner fear and rage she felt at seeing Jarod go down seemed to flow down her arm into the gun like a physical thing. Concentrating, she pulled off two rapid shots in succession, paused, then fired two more. Miss Parker watched with detachment as Brigitte was knocked forward, a red blot splashing across her back where the bullets had entered and then made a quick exit through her chest. Covering the remaining distance between herself and the cleaner, Parker stopped next to her. She squatted and rapidly felt for the nonexistent pulse. "Too bad. Your heart must have gotten in the way, m'dear." Remembering Jarod, she suddenly jumped up, running to him as fast as she could. She dropped down next to him, noticing the dark stain of blood pooling on the frozen ground. An intense fear gripped her. "Jarod?" she asked sharply and she turned him over, hands reaching out to grasp his face. "Are you still with me, Jarod?" His eyes fluttered open at the tension in her voice, and he tried to focus on her. He felt light-headed, cold, and realized that he must have been hit. "Marine?" he whispered. "Ok, Jarod," she bit out frantically, fingers fumbling at his shoulder to inspect the wound that pumped there. "Be still for a second and try not to talk. We have to try and stop the bleeding." She unzipped her jacket and covered him, ripping at her shirt to try and get some material to press against the gaping hole from the bullet. His eyes closed again, and she was afraid he might be going into shock. "Jarod!" she cried out. 'Listen to me baby, hold on! Come on, Jarod! Look at me!" She pressed the cloth to his shoulder and he winced at the pain of the pressure. His eyes opened again, glassy from the throbbing ache of the gunshot and the loss of blood. The ground was so cold, and he knew instinctively that the warmth he felt spreading beneath him was his own lifeblood. He looked up, meeting the torment in her eyes. "Oh shit, Jarod," she cried. "You have to hold on! You have to stay with me or you'll go into shock. Come on baby." She pressed harder, trying to staunch the terrible flow of blood. "Marine," he said faintly again, reaching up with his good arm to fumble at his throat. "Don't talk, Jarod," she said again. "And don't move either. You need to conserve your strength." She glanced down and saw the blood soaking the cloth of her shirt; swelling beneath her fingertips. "Oh Jesus," she said, voice trembling. "Oh please Jarod, stay with me here. You're going to be all right." He smiled faintly at the brave lie, noticing the quiver of her lips and the tears that had broken free to run down her cheeks. She was so beautiful.... Miss Parker increased her pressure on the wound, trying by sheer force to stop the bleeding. "Come on Jarod, hang on. I know you can do it. For god's sake, you can do anything. So hang on for me baby." Jarod heard her words from far away. The pain in his shoulder was lessening, and he could feel a seductive lassitude spreading throughout his body. He knew it wouldn't be much longer before he lost consciousness. With one last effort, he pulled the chain with the Flying Cross out from around his neck. "Take this," he said, gesturing with the medal. "Find my parents and give them this. Tell them about me. About Kyle..." he quieted suddenly, staring at her, eyes losing focus. "No, Jarod!" she cried, tears flowing now in torrents from her eyes. "You can tell them yourself. You *will* tell them yourself. Oh god..." He heard the anguish in her voice as it faded, and he closed his eyes. "Jarod, wait!" she sobbed as panic seized her. "Don't go baby, please! Goddamn it Jarod, listen!" She bent over, pressing the warmth of her lips against his cold ones, her teardrops moistening his cheeks. "Oh no," she wept in desperation, gathering him to her. "I love you," she whispered. "You can't leave me here alone. Oh god, Jarod. I love you." ********* <"Sleep in now, now. Sleep in now, now, now. It's still night out. Sleep in."> She stood at the bedroom window, looking out at the moonlit landscape below. Her thoughts were scattered and confusing, and she took a deep breath, trying to rearrange them into some coherent order. The events of the past two weeks seemed unreal, and her heart ached with the pain of the memories. Her father was finally gone, and the answers he had imparted before his passing had done nothing but intensify her troubled spirit. He'd said that allowing her mother to die was the only way he could protect her, but Miss Parker recognized the rationalization for what it was. She was so like him that way. For as long as she could remember, he had acted selfishly; pushing aside the welfare of others for his own personal gain. Knowing the real truth didn't make her feel any better though. And now her father was dead; free from the consequences of her newfound awareness. A light knock on the door startled her and she opened it to see Sydney standing outside. "He's showing some signs of consciousness," he said gently, looking at her with concern. "I thought you might like to know." "Thanks, Syd," she replied quietly. "I'll head down there in a little while." He nodded and left her alone then. Oh Jarod, she thought, reliving the moment when she felt him dying in her arms there on the ground at Moonlake. Despite herself, the tears began again. The pain and confusion of those last moments were still overwhelming. And she recalled the intense relief she'd felt at the touch of Syd's hand on her shoulder and the sound of his calm voice saying, "Miss Parker, listen to me. We need to keep him warm now and get on that chopper to a hospital as quickly as possible. I know a man at Hopkins who'll help us..." By the grace of god, somehow, Jarod had pulled through, and now it looked like he was going to be all right. She swiped at her eyes, and looked at herself in the mirror. It was time. After two weeks of reflection, she had made a decision. She was going to leave; the moment had come for her to move on. Her mother was gone, her father was dead. The Centre's days were surely numbered now with the chaos and turmoil brought on by her father's and Lyle's passing. Very little remained to tie her to the past. Except for Jarod. She gave herself one last glance, ran her fingers through her hair, and headed toward the door. <" Don't look at me Lookin' back at you, Out the window backwards, Out the window backwards. Sleep."> Miss Parker opened the door gently and entered the softly lit room. Sydney rose from the chair beside the bed and walked toward her. He paused and reached up to touch her cheek. "It really *is* going to be ok, Parker," he reassured her. "I guess I'll leave you two alone." She heard the door click shut and turned back to the still form lying on the bed. Jarod. Concentrating, she picked up the steady sound of his breathing, and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the feel of his presence. After a while, she lowered herself to the chair that Syd had vacated and stared at Jarod. He looked so weak; nothing like the vigorous, powerful, sometimes playful man she had become used to. But she knew with a little time, the Jarod she remembered would return. She just wouldn't be here to see it. Miss Parker felt the urge to cry assail her, but she fought it. It would do no good to get upset again, especially not here with him. She had come to say good-bye, and that was what she would do. Thinking back, she savored all the intimate moments they had shared in the past year. His shock when she'd kissed him in the cell at the Centre, before releasing him. The feel of his hands on her body, the first time he had come to make love to her. The look on his face, when she and Syd had shown up at the hockey game in Chicago. Their meeting in the player's tunnel. His phone call to the Centre from her apartment. And the sight of him in her bathroom that morning, shaving, after a night-long marathon of intense sex. As if being there had been the most normal thing in the world. She knew that there would never again be a man in her life like Jarod. No one could know her like he did; no one could love her the way he did. Yet at the same time, she knew that a relationship between them was impossible. There hadn't been a ghost of a chance at such a thing in the first place. The cold, dark shadow of the Centre had ensured that. Miss Parker realized that she had been a prisoner of her past the whole time she'd known him. She could hear his voice saying, <<"I'm telling you it's foolish to assume that Daddy's going to give you all the answers you want. Even if you get them, it won't mean that all your problems will be solved and you can suddenly start living again.">> Well, he was wrong about one thing. She *was* ready to start living. Even if her problems hadn't been solved, she could still walk away and start over. Which was exactly what she was going to do. By herself. She had earned that right. And Jarod deserved this as well, she thought. The chance to go on and be with the family he so desperately craved without the weight of her hanging around his neck. Knowing it was the right thing didn't make her feel any better, but she would not be deterred. All that was left was the final farewell, but she couldn't yet bring herself to do it. Suddenly, Jarod stirred and she sat up, leaning towards him. His eyes opened sluggishly. < See this child twice stolen from me, Out the window backwards, Out the window backwards. Sleep in now, now. Sleep in now, now, now. Sleep now.> She slid off the chair, onto her knees by the side of the bed. Reaching up, she grasped his hand. "Hello, Jarod." He smiled weakly, dark eyes brightening at the sight of her. "Where are we? What happened?" he asked in a faint voice. "We're at Ben's inn, in Rock Cove," she responded quickly. "You've been unconscious for close to fourteen days now." "How...?" he began, falling silent when she shook her head slightly. "Don't talk yet, Jarod," she said. "I'll tell you everything. Sydney and I lifted you out of Moonlake in the helicopter and flew you to Johns Hopkins. There was an ER doctor there that Syd knew who was able to help us. You had lost a great deal of blood and it was pretty touch and go for a while..." He gripped her hand tightly as her voice broke when she remembered the time in the hospital. She laughed at herself suddenly. As weak as he was now, she was still drawing on his strength. "Anyway," she went on, drawing a sharp breath. "He got you patched up, and as soon as your condition was stable we brought you up here. Ben was more than willing to help us out, and it's off-season so I knew we wouldn't be disturbed." She stopped, and heard him whisper, "Lyle? Your father?" "Daddy's dead," she answered quietly. "And Lyle too. At least I assume so. We were only concerned with getting you out of there. It all happened so fast, and Broots warned us that there were reinforcements on the way to Moonlake." She snorted softly, "Moonlake. A real trip to the dark side." He smiled again, and lay still, content just to have her with him. Raising her hand to his mouth, he moved his lips over her palm and felt her shiver. Miss Parker leaned in close and spoke again, "Now I have to ask you something: How did you know that Lyle was going to ambush us?" His eyes glinted at her, and he said, "I'm a pretender. Don't ever doubt my abilities again, ok?" "Oh shit, Jarod,"she began to cry again. "You should have told me." "I didn't know they were going to shoot your father," he answered. "You have to believe that. I thought it would be you. That's what Sam and Willie were prepared for. The last minute change caused the situation to deteriorate beyond my ability to control it." "And so now you've ended up here," she said slowly. "Kind of a big price to pay." "It was worth it. But I think I'm going to Disneyland after this." "Disney *world*," she smiled then, briefly. "You're going to be all right, Jarod. It'll just take some time and rest, and you'll be back to your old, infuriating self." "What about you?" he asked. "Me?" she stood and turned away, wiping her eyes. "Well, you were right, I guess. Finding out the truth didn't make me feel any better." She glanced back at him and heard him say, "It isn't always fun to be right." "I know, Jarod. I'll be ok." They lapsed into silence, content just to share in each others' company. Finally, she heard him say softly, "I'm so tired." "I'm sure," she replied. "You should try to sleep." He nodded slightly and motioned for her to come closer. "I love you." She smiled and felt the tears begin anew. Tenderly, she drew her fingers across his brow and kissed him lightly on the mouth. He sighed with pleasure and she lay her head on his good shoulder until she could tell by the rhythmic sound of his breathing that he was asleep again. Looking up, she kissed him one last time, whispering against his mouth. "Good-bye, Jarod." Rising, she headed back to the door and into the hallway where Sydney waited impatiently. "He woke up," she told him. "I told him what happened. He seems to be pretty cognizant of everything, but he's sleeping again." "Fine," Sydney replied. "I'll go sit with him. How are you?" "I'll live," she said shortly, turning to head back to the double doors of her room. Once there, she gazed at the suitcase tucked in the corner and tried to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to do one last thing before leaving. Making her way over to the small writing desk, she sat down, pulling a pen and paper toward her.... ********* <" Now fall to the bed, Put your hand in your hair. Now fall to the tile, Stick your finger in your eye. That's the only way you cry. Hey now. Hey now."> Miss Parker stopped at the foot of the stairs and set down the suitcase. Taking a deep breath, she entered the parlor where Sydney now sat before the fire with Ben. The two had obviously been discussing something significant, for they lapsed into silence at her approach. "Is something wrong with Jarod, Syd?" she questioned. "No," he replied shortly. "Ben and I were just talking about a personal issue that I have to resolve." "I see," she said when he didn't elaborate. "Well, I'll let you two be. I just stopped here to say good-bye. I'm leaving." Both men looked at her in shocked surprise, and Sydney opened his mouth to speak. "Don't start, Syd," she said, cutting him off. "I've decided it's time to get going. You know, out into the real world?" When neither responded, she went on, "There's nothing left for me here now, and it's time I found out who I really am." "But Jarod," Sydney broke in. "Jarod will be fine," she said, hoping her voice sounded stronger than she felt. "He has you here to help him, and then it'll be time for him to reunite with his family." She glanced over at Ben, and saw that he was regarding her with a sorrowful expression. No doubt he was thinking about her mother and the impossible relationship that they'd shared. This situation had to be a bitter reminder of that. But she knew he was wise enough to recognize that she needed to follow her own destiny. "Miss Parker," Sydney began again, sounding as though he wanted to argue with her. "Please, Syd -- try to understand. This is something I have to do." He clamped his lips shut, disapproval blazing in his eyes, but she knew he would stop trying to persuade her. She held out two envelopes. "Give these to Jarod," she said. "One contains the name and location of his parents and his sister. The other is a letter; explaining." Sydney took them and then both men rose. She gave each a hug, and then headed quickly back to the hallway. Miss Parker looked at them one last time. "Good-bye," she said softly, turning and walking out the front door. Stopping on the front porch for a moment, she sucked the icy winter air into her lungs and suppressed the tears that threatened once again. Then she headed toward her Explorer, and the great big world that was waiting out there for her. ********* Jarod sat in the chair by the window, grasping the letter that Sydney had just given him. Looking down, he read the information from the first envelope again. Vandenburg. That was his real name, although they were going by Mitchell now. And they were apparently staying in a small town near Utica in upstate New York. Sydney had agreed that when the time was right, they would go to his family together. But that seemed almost meaningless to him now that he knew she was really gone. Swallowing past the tightness that felt like a rock in his throat, he opened the letter and began to read... Dear Jarod, You're reading this, so you already know that I've left. It's too bad that Sydney got stuck breaking the news, but I figured he owed it to me. I know that you're probably feeling hurt and confused, but I hope you can understand that this is the right conclusion for what's gone on between us. My father is dead, and the Centre is likely finished. It's time for us both to get going with the business of living. I want you to know that my leaving doesn't have anything to do with you. It's something that I've needed to do, and I've put it off for far too long. I have to find out who this person really is; this 'Miss Parker', whose flesh and blood I'm walking around in. It's something that I can only do alone. I think you, of all people, would understand. As for you Jarod, I truly believe that you deserve the chance to see and be with your family on your own terms. You've waited so very long for that, and I hope your greatest expectations are fulfilled. I know it's what my mother would have wanted. There's one last thing I'd like you to know. You should understand that you aren't responsible for all the things that happened to other people because of the Centre. Terrible things went on there, but that was beyond your control. I realize that you feel you have a tremendous debt to pay, but I think at some point, you need to let yourself get past that. And what better time than the present? Take it from someone who's had the ability to make conscious choices and now regrets a lot of her decisions. I don't know if I'll ever be whole again, but that's partly due to my own actions. You, on the other hand, at least deserve the chance to be complete. I will remember you always. Forever, Parker Jarod closed his eyes, and thought about the words she had written. His heart ached with the pain of losing her, but a tiny part of him acknowledged the wisdom in what she had said. It was the right solution. For now. He looked out the window again, but the spectacular view went unnoticed. Instead, he seemed to see the future for a moment. "This isn't over," he spoke aloud. "We will meet again, Marine. And the next time, things will be *very* different." His voice trembled with the intensity of his feelings, and then he folded the letter carefully, clutching it like a lifeline. There was a knock on the door, and Sydney opened it, leaning his head in. "Come in, Syd," Jarod said, waiting until the other man stood next to him. "So how long will it be until I can be up and around, and start getting back to normal?" he asked. "I have a pressing engagement in Utica, and I'd like to get there as soon as possible." <" Full moon past the window sideways. Hey now. Hey now. Sleep in now, now. Sleep in now, now. Sleep in now, now. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep."> -- Belly, 'Full Moon, Empty Heart' ********* Epilogue Miss Parker opened her satchel in the motel room and absently pulled out the tri-fold picture frame that she carried with her always. She hadn't opened it since before her father's death. As she unfolded it, a small piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Frowning, she picked it up, recognizing Jarod's familiar writing: "I hope you find what you're looking for. If not, at least enjoy the ride. I know I have. Love always, Jarod." She sank down on the bed, crumpling the note. He knew. He had known all along. "Goddamn it, Jarod." Miss Parker buried her face in her hands, and wept. <"For long you live and high you fly And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry And all you touch and all you see Is all your life will ever be."> -- Pink Floyd, 'Breathe' The End. Musical References: Pink Floyd "Eclipse" and "Breathe" -- From the album, The Dark Side of the Moon Copyright 1973, Harvest Records Peter Gabriel "Mercy Street" -- From the album, So Copyright 1986, Geffen Records Pink Floyd "Another Brick in the Wall (Part 1)" -- From the album, The Wall Copyright 1979, Columbia Records The Who "Love Reign O'er Me" -- From the album, Quadrophenia Copyright 1973, MCA Records Belly "Full Moon, Empty Heart" -- From the album, Star Copyright 1993, Sire Records All lyrics used without permission.