A Story for the Winter Doldrums Part 3

"Broots!" Miss Parker snapped.

Broots appeared in the doorway, folder in hand, glancing around the room.

"Yesss, Miss Parker," he said.

"Well?" she said curtly.

"Sorry." Broots offered her a sheepish look." I think I have good news,though."

"You've been gone for four hours," Miss Parker scolded."What's your news?"

Broots eyes brightened. He looked from Miss Parker to Sydney, expectantly, apparently hoping to build a certain amount of suspense.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

"Julian M. Zedekiah," Broots said as he held up the folder for Miss Parker.

Parker's breath caught in her throat. Heart racing she looked over at Sydney, whose expression was solemn.

"Sydney," she said, the one word heavy.

The doctor closed his eyes, pursed his lips tightly, thinking. When he opened them, he shot Miss Parker a grave look. "I remember a young boy that was brought here, around the same time as Jarod, his name was Julian."

"And?"

"I was ordered to work with Jarod, I don't know. What does the file say?" The older man's voice cracked as he spoke, and his jaw clenched tightly together.

Miss Parker opened the file, and scanned its contents, her eyes narrowing as the information was processed.

"He was brought here as a potential pretender, but the triumvirate had other ideas in mind."

"Other ideas?" Broots asked," Like what?"

"Who know when it comes to the triumvirate. Their actions are motiviated purely by their own amusement," she whispered.

Thinking about the Triumvirate and the callous way in which they made and destroyed lives made Miss Parker think about someone whom she hoped to protect from their treacherousness. She tucked the file under her arm and walked towards the door.

"Parker?"

Parker didn't glance back at Sydney, but she did respond to the worried sound in his voice.

"I have to check on something, Syd."

Slowly she made her way to the nursery, thoughts of the mysterious Mr. Zedekiah plaguing her mind. However, Parker forced herself to shake herself from her dangerous reverie as she pushed open the door and found a sad, angry little boy sitting on a blanket in the middle of the room.

His face quickly changed, however when he saw who had come to see him, and soon he was smiling widely, his arms extended toward his big sister.

"Hi honey! How's my big boy today, huh?" Miss Parker said in a motherly tone of voice while picking him up and cradling him to her chest. The baby's reponse was to place a wet kiss on his sister's cheek and coo nonsense in her ear. Miss Parker actually laughed at his action. And, of course with his being a baby, he joined right in. Soon all that could be heard throughout the nursery was the happy laughter of brother and sister. If one were to walk past and see Miss Parker and her baby brother laughing they would have thought that hell had indeed frozen over. When they both finally stopped laughing Miss Parker asked, "What are you playing with? Are those blocks? They look like fun!"

The baby wiggled to signal that he wanted to be put down. Miss Parker complied and watched him toddle over to the blocks and begin to form a word.

Miss Parker watched with a hint of amusement in her eye until she noticed what word her baby brother had formed.

"Jarod!" she whispered in shock.

The spelling was close enough for her wonder were he could have even learned about the missing pretender. Thousands of questions ran through her mind as she watched her brother resume playing with his toy blocks, the remnants of the word obliterated before anyone else could see them. Fifteen minutes later, he toddled over to the chair his sister occupied and slowly climbed into her lap, nestling his head on her shoulder, his eyes heavy-lidded with sleep.

"It's way past your bedtime, little one," she whispered as she rubbed his back gently, and rocked rythmically in the chair. The doors to the nursery swung and the nurse in-charge of her baby brother entered, a stern look upon her face.

"You shouldn't be here, Miss Parker. What possessed you to distrub Master Christopher's rest?"

"Nothing possessed me, Mrs. Wickham," Miss Parker replied, trying to keep her voice low and the sarcasm out,"I came to check on him, this will be the last time you leave him unattended."

"It isn't my fault," Mrs. Wickham started to answer, but the narrowing of Parker's eyes hushed it.

"Of course not! That's why I found him sitting on the floor of his room, instead of in bed. It's after midnight, he should be alseep."

"He wouldn't lie down, so I left him on his blanket for a few minutes. He has to learn that there are rules to be followed."

"Rules!" Parker scoffed," He's sixteen months old, what does he know about rules! Parker rose to her full height and glared down at the nurse as she walked over to the small toddler bed. Gently, she placed her baby brother onto the mattress and pulled the soft angora blanket up around him.

"Where's his . . .?" Parker began to ask, when the nurse handed her the stuffed white and black striped tiger cub. Parker placed the stuffed animal in his chubby arms, and then she let her fingers trail across his cheek.

"Sweet dreams," she said, audible only to herself. Walking back to the rocking chair, she picked up the file and strolled out of the nursery, but not before she glanced back at the small figure in the bed. Miss Parker resumed reading the information that Broots had gathered not only on Julian Zedekiah but on the other three murders. As she continued back to her office, a line in the report jumped out at her, and it sent shivers down her spine. The killer left a calling card if you could call it that. Burned into the victims left palm, an insignia. One she was very familiar with.

Sydney and Broots were still waiting in her office, neither of them bothering to hide the fatigue that was enveloping them. Ignoring their gaze, she moved to her desk and arranged the documents in front of her. Without a word, she pulled a pen from the desk drawer and began reviewing the information again, scribbling in the margins as she did. With each mark of the pen, she became less aware of the two men waiting patiently for her to speak.

"Parker, it's late," Sydney sighed, looking over her shoulder and noticing she had sketched the Ring of Fire symbol, and the onyx ring, from several different angles, "We're all tired, and I, for one, would like to go home."

She looked up at him and nodded, "Fine. Both of you be here at 8 .. okay, 9 o'clock," she acceded when they each glanced at their watches, "Sharp. We have a lot of work to do before I meet Jarod tomorrow night. I have no intention of letting him blind side me, again, with information I should have known. Understand?"

Nodding silently, both men gathered their things and moved from the office. Turning at the door, Broots glanced back at the brunette as she focused her attention on the documents.

"Miss Parker, aren't you leaving?"

Without raising her eyes, she waved him away and muttered, "Soon."

In all his years with the Centre, Sydney had served in nearly unswerving loyalty. Yet in recent years, he had developed a certain amount of bitterness toward the place and it was a heavy burden on his soul, perhaps it was that burden that caused himself to turn around and head back. He found her still in her office, reading the file that Broots had compiled just a few hours earlier.

"Can I do anything to help?"

"What do you know about the Ring of Fire, Syd?"

"Other than what you've told me, nothing more. What's the significance of the ring, Parker?"

"Zedekiah had a ring, a rather unique ring on when. . . ."

Perplexed, Sydney interrupted, " A ring, not when he interviewed me."

"What have we stumbled into, Syd?"

"I don't know, Parker. Perhaps, Jarod has some answers."

"He had better," she growled," Let's call it a night, Syd."

"More like morning," he smiled as he watched her pack up the file and notes that she had made.

******

Lyle raised his hand to the back of his head, gingerly, encountering a tender spot that throbbed even if not touched. Making his way back to the car, he spotted his partner slumped over the steering wheel. Opening the door, he slid into the passenger seat, and roughly shook Mr. Cox.

"What the hell happen?" Lyle spat causing his head to ache.

"Seems that someone was expecting us to be here at your sister's."

"Jarod," Lyle sneered.

"And obviously he wasn't alone, either."

"Well it wasn't my sister, so who?"

Each placed their hands to the back of their skulls which throbbed in rhythm with their pulses.

******

Parker's mind would not shut down and she tossed miserably between unsettling realities and savage dreams. Her eyes flew open in the dark, her heart squeezed as if by a cold hand. She got out of bed before the alarm sounded and drove back to the Centre. Making her way unaccosted to sub-level 21, she tossed around all the information she had garnered in past fourteen hours. It was the distinctive odor, the unpalatable bouquet of death no amount of air fresher could mask that made Parker realize that she had reached her destination. Had she been led there blindfolded, she would have known exactly where she was. At this hour of the morning, the smell was more noticeable, more unpleasant than usual. She stood there in the darkness for what seemed a long time, her thoughts undistracted, her hands perfectly still, her senses alert. Directly below her was the dark shape of William Raines, protruding from the sheets, toe tags dangled from cold feet. She didn't feel the slightest bit of grief at Raines demise, after all he was responsible for her mother's death and her brother, Ethan's rather unstable mental health. Truthfully, she would love very much to congratulate whomever was responsible, but the thought of a killer taking out Centre staff didn't sit well, after all she was a part of the orginazation. There was no way of knowing who the killer would target next. Swiftly, she lifted the sheet that covered his left hand, then turned the hand toward her to reveal the palm. Her forefinger traced the seared flesh. There were others that would recognize this insignia, her father and Major Charles. As for her father, he would feign ignorance, but what about Major Charles. The insignia was on his gun, the one that Broots found in the archives, and when she had confronted him with it, he confirmed it was his. Was it possible that the ring or one similiar being sported by Mr. Zedekiah last night belonged to Major Charles? That would be the first thing she'd demand to know when she met with Jarod later tonight, was his father responsible for these killings.

******

Jarod was already awake and tapping furiously at the keyboard of his laptop when Julian stepped into the room. He looked up, quickly taking in the man's impeccable appearnce, then turned his attention back to the computer.

"Have you made contact with your father?"

"The only thing I've made, so far, this morning, is coffee."

Julian's eyes widened at the sarcasm, "Maybe you should be cutting back on the caffeine," he muttered, pouring himself a glass of orange juice, "you're a little tense."

Shooting the man an annoyed look, Jarod responded in a tight voice, "Exactly, what kind of disposition would you like me to have? I'm a pretender, remember?" he spat, "I wouldn't want to make life miserable for the man who told me my father was a murderer, would I?"

"Calm down, Jarod, it's not like the Major's never been accused of killing someone before. You should be used to this by now."

Pulling himself to his full height, Jarod crossed the room, his eyes blazing, "Understand this, Zedekiah: My father is not responsible; but, as long as someone is using his ring, or one like it, to brand the victims, my father is a suspect and he's in danger. When you take into consideration that the Centre does not believe in 'innocent until proven guilty', you'll realize that my father is more of a marked man than you are."

"You're still going to meet with him, right?" the man asked, unfazed by the Pretender's outburst.

"Of course."

"Good, I'm looking forward to meeting him," he grinned over the rim of the glass.

The phone interrputed the silence with its ringing. Zedekiah snatched up the receiver before Jarod could. The voice on the other end unfamiliar.

"Jarod?"

"No, Zedekiah's the name." Recognition dawning. " Major Charles. . ."

Major Charles sounded as if he were talking from the bottom of an oil drum, and Zedekiah could hear cars passing in the background.

"Where are you?" he managed to ask as Jarod grabbed for the phone.

"Dad, it's me. Are you alright?"

"I'm about thirty minutes away from the hotel. I've been in D.C. all week, been trying to get some information about the surviving members of the squadron, we finally got in. Jaren managed to download the entire file but it's encrypted. He's working on it but. . . "

"I'm on my . . ." Jarod started to reply.

"Bring Zedekiah with you, Jarod," the Major said," I have something to show him." The Major looked down at the ring on his pinkie of his left hand, he could prove the ring used to kill Raines and the other doctors wasn't his. His ring had three special dates inscribed on the inside. Two dates only he knew the significance too, because they pertained to events in his life. His eldest son's birthdate, the day he was taken from them. And the last having been newly added, the day they had reunited. Jarod turned and looked Zedekiah in the eyes, his lips tightly pursued.

"You're to come with me." There was a tense pause."How long will it take you to get ready?"

"Five minutes." He walked briskly to the bedroom and proceeded to dress in full view of Jarod.

"You could shut the door," Jarod said.

"Don't want to be accused of betraying you," Zedekiah said, smiling as he returned to the living room, tucking the tail of his polo shirt into his jeans.

"You gave me your word, that's good enough for me."

"God, you are a trusting soul, Jarod."

"Not really. If I recall correctly, I promised to . . . " Jarod smiled, evilly.

"Don't remind me. I shudder at the very thought."

"Ready?"

"One moment," Zedekiah reached for the phone, dailing," Mr. Parker, Zedekiah here. Two hours, Mr. Parker. Please be so kind as to inform Lyle and Cox as well. Now, I'm ready."

"What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall at that meeting," Jarod chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes.

"No more than I wish to be one at your meeting with Miss Parker," Zedekiah returned.

The Major looked down at the ring, once more, while sliding the telephone into his pocket. Not only was someone setting him up for murder, but they were endangering his children's lives as well. Whether his son would admit it or not, the Major was aware that the Centre would always have a psychological hold on him. No matter what happened, if the corporation from Delaware was even remotely involved, Jarod felt a responsibility that was hard to explain, and, sometimes, harder to fathom.

"Is he coming?"

Pulled from his reverie, the Major nodded, "They'll both be here in about fifteen minutes. Maybe you should make yourself scarce."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because it's not safe?"

"It's no safer for you. I'm staying."

******

Broots scurried into the room, with a smile and a file. Placing the file on her desk, his grin quickly faded as she read silently. He'd been proud of what he'd uncovered and had been hoping for, at the very least, a 'good job, Broots'. He sighed, and shook his head, wondering why he set himself up.

"Where did you get this?"

"The Department of Defense."

"The DOD has these types of records unsecured?"

"I didn't say that," he grinned.

"You mean you hacked your way into their database?" He nodded, "After what you told Sydney and me this morning about the ring, I thought you might want to know how many had been commissioned."

She looked back at the report, "This is impossible."

......TBC

Writers:

Shannon
Niceole
Lizzy
Shannon
Lisa
Michele
Trish
Lisa
Trish
Lisa