“Gunshot fired.” The voice crackled through the earpieces of the black suited sweepers, “Move in.”

     They moved as one toward the building, like slithering black shadows in the growing light. The closest opened the door to the warehouse, his gun held ready. The others followed until they too, one by one, were swallowed by the darkness within.

     Parker crouched down pulling the zipper of the body bag, so that gradually all traces of Jarod disappeared into the cold black plastic. Her face might as well have been made of stone as she finally drew the zipper over his face so that all that was left of him was the vague outline of a man. It could have been anyone in that body bag. That was probably the worst part, that any trace of Jarod who was so pivotal in the lives of so many could be forgotten and removed so easily. Death was so… diminishing. It took you, whoever you were, and it treated you like it treated everyone else, reducing you to dry tissue and bone. Until eventually even your bones disintegrated to leave nothing, not a trace that you ever even existed. Death reduced you to nothing; only through people’s memories did you survive in any form. But what did that matter? Death took those people too. A small sound of leather scraping against concrete tore Parker from her thoughts.

     “I’ve found her.” The sweeper whispered into his sleeve. He held back from approaching the woman. He had never met her personally but she had a big enough of a reputation for him to know she wasn’t someone to be trifled with. “North corridor, second door on the left.” He instructed, silently cursing his luck that he had been the first to find her. Gripping his gun tighter in his hand he moved forward noiselessly, making his way toward the small room at the end of the corridor. He could see her through the doorway; she was crouched on the floor staring blankly at something on the ground, something just out of his view. As he walked closer he could see it was a body bag. She still had not moved an inch so he drew closer, his gun dropping a few inches. Her sudden movement when it came took him by surprise. Reflexes though meant his body knew what to do even while his mind was playing catch up. He stepped back his feet braced as he brought his gun back up, both hands holding it this time. Parker pointed her gun at him, her arm straight and unwavering. One minute she was in what might as well have been a catatonic state and the next she had her gun pointed at the middle of his chest her eyes as cold as ice. Somehow he seemed to have missed the in between bit. He had seen the gun at the waistband of her pants when he had approached but the speed with which she moved had caught him off guard. They stayed like that, each of their guns pointed at the other for an interminable amount of time, before Parker finally broke the stand off.

     “Learn not to sneak up on a girl when she’s armed. You’ll live longer.” He paused before reluctantly lowering his gun. He could see why they called her the Ice Queen, any colder and she’d freeze hell. But considering she was a Parker it was hard to be surprised. God had obviously missed that entire family when he was handing out souls. Not that he himself was much better, he thought ruefully, it was a dream job; working for people that inspired him so.

     She watched him, seeing all his thoughts flash in his eyes. She usually didn’t mind sweepers; most were more muscle than brain. They followed orders, that was the whole point of their existence. But then there were the few that were different… the ones that took pleasure from following those orders, especially the ones that were whispered in their ear in some dark corridor of the Centre. Those ones held ambitions.

     “What’s your name?” She asked, her tone short.

     “Jed.” The sweeper replied, a smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. The higher ups didn’t usually bother asking the names of lowly sweepers. This could either be a very good thing for him or a very bad thing. He would just have to wait and see which one it turned out to be. Parker stood up.

     “Well, Jed, would you be a good boy and help me with this thing.” She nudged the body bag with her foot, “He’s a little on the heavy side.”

     “Yes Ma’am.” He said, his face returning to its expression of impassive determination; the customary look of a sweeper. Other sweepers soon arrived and Jarod was carried out of the building.

     When they emerged from the warehouse they were greeted by a collection of cars, their ownership unmistakeable. The Centre never did have much imagination Parker thought as she saw the door to one of the black cars open.

     “Such a beautiful day for a spot of murder isn’t it?” Lyle greeted cheerily. Parker turned as he walked up to her.

     “I always thought murder went better with clouds… some rain, a touch of thunder.” She murmured her face inscrutable.

     “That’s one of those misconceptions. There’s no reason not to enjoy the day while completing business.” Lyle replied, amused.

     “You’re in a good mood today, Brother.” Her gaze swept the vicinity before coming back to look him straight in the eye, “Should I be worried?”

     “You have nothing to fear from me, Sis.” He reassured with one of his trademark smirks. He looked to the body bag the sweepers were carrying. He sighed mournfully, “I was so looking forward to wreaking some justice on the Bastard... oh well, you win some you lose some.” He gestured to the sweepers, “Load him up!” They moved obediently toward the waiting van. As they came abreast of the siblings though, Lyle commanded them to stop. He looked smugly to Parker who just stood impassively her arms crossed in front of her chest. “We want to make sure it really is him in there don’t we? The Centre wouldn’t be too pleased if they didn’t get what they asked for.” Parker just continued to stare at him, unconcerned. Lyle drew the zipper open, enough to reveal the occupant’s face. He paused before finally saying, “I’ve got to admit, you surprised me Parker. I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.” He drew the zipper closed, once again removing the sight of Jarod’s face and the dried red blood on his forehead that showed so starkly against his pale skin.

     “I’m a Parker.” He almost imagined he saw some trace of emotion flash in her eyes as she said it, but it was gone before he could identify what it had been. He nodded to the sweepers and they loaded Jarod’s body into the van.

     “Coming, Sis?” Lyle called as he walked to a waiting car.

     “I’m coming.” She took one last look at the van just in time to see the doors close with a resounding thud, removing the last glimpse of Jarod. She raised her head to the sky where the sun was rising, a cool breeze caressed her cheek. It was the beginning of a new day but all it felt like to her was an end; an end of a time, an era… a life. Every beginning has an ending and every ending in turn continues on to a new beginning. But what this day, this new beginning held for her, she didn’t know. She had forfeited her life to the whims of The Fates.

     The drive to the morgue was a short one and they arrived within minutes. The mortician himself was waiting outside, a gurney ready. Jarod was loaded onto it without delay and wheeled inside the nondescript morgue.

     “The Centre wants him as soon as possible so just make him ready for transport and my men will ship him back to the Centre.” Lyle took one last look at the body, “Damn pity.” He muttered to himself, “I just got new jumper leads…” He shook his head at the injustice and turned to leave. “Coming Parker?” he asked exasperated. The thought of leading her everywhere by the hand didn’t appeal to him. She threw him a sardonic look.

     “You don’t think I’m going to leave him here with just your men watching do you? After all the crap he’s put me through the past five years, I am not letting him have the last laugh. I don’t care if I have to stare at his sorry corpse until he’s back on Centre soil. Major Charles and the others will not be stealing his body for a ‘proper’ burial or any other sentimental foolishness.” And with that she went back to staring at the body bag true to her word. Lyle recognised the stubborn look on her face and shrugged nonchalantly. If she wanted to watch tissue degenerate that was her prerogative. To him it seemed akin to watching paint dry but then he had never underestimated the power of hatred.

     “Whatever you wish, Baby Sister.”

     “I’m older than you, Idiot.” She replied, not looking up.

     “Whatever.” He said dismissively, nodding to the head sweeper as he passed him on the way out. “Keep an eye on her, Jed.” He murmured so she couldn’t hear.

     “No problem, Sir.” Jed replied with a boorish leer as his gaze swept over Parker’s figure.

     “Touch her, Jed and I won’t have to do anything to you because she’ll already have strung you up by the more delicate parts of your anatomy. Keep focused on the prize not the temptations.” He paused to make sure his message had got across and then with one last glance toward the gurney with the body bag, he left.

     “Alright, the Centre wants him in prime condition and all he’s doing out here is decaying, so let’s get him moving.” Parker commanded once Lyle had gone. The mortician grabbed the head of the gurney as Parker grabbed the rear as they pushed Jarod into one of the rooms. The door closed behind them with a click. Two sweepers took their positions on either side of the door and the others moved to monitor the rest of the building. Miss Parker and the mortician were left to prepare Jarod’s remains.

     “What have you found out, Broots?” Sydney asked pacing his small office.

     “No much, Syd.” Broots shook his head in frustration, “They checked out of the hotel around eight, she filled up on gas around midnight but no trace of her after that. And I have no way of knowing if Jarod was with her or not, alive or otherwise….” He cleared his throat uneasily.

     “He’s still alive.” Sydney stated stubbornly.

     “No offence. But how do you know?” Broots asked.

     “If she really is going to go through with this, she’ll want to do it somewhere inconspicuous, somewhere it would be easy to transport him back here without too much attention being drawn. That will take time; maybe… maybe there is still a chance we can get to her before she does something stupid.”

     “I hate to point it out, Syd but it’s been over twelve hours, she’s had enough time already… plus I saw Lyle leave in the Centre helicopter three hours ago.” Broots paused reluctant to go on, this wasn’t exactly easy for him either but he could see that it was killing Sydney. “I heard they’re preparing SL-14. The cold storage lockers down there are being tested and the doctors all look like they’ve just won the grand prize in the lottery stakes.” Broots watched Sydney come to terms with the news waiting a little nervously as to how he was going to take it. Sydney stayed quiet until finally he looked toward his office doors with a look of utter loathing.

     “If they would just let us leave!” He snarled, “Maybe we could have done something instead of sitting here twiddling our thumbs while the Centre destroys the last traces of good left inside this place!” He spat out the words, Broots had never seen him so mad but then he didn’t blame him. The Centre had not shoved them into a cell and locked it behind them but they hadn’t done much better. A sweeper followed their every move and it was made quite clear that they were not to leave the Centre grounds, and if they did attempt such a thing they then would be shoved in a cell and lose the, albeit limited, freedom that they had.

     “I’m sorry, Syd.” Broots said softly, pain creasing his features. Sydney’s shoulders slumped, his face softening with sorrow.

     “Too many times have I sat idly by while the Centre has hurt the people I care about. I have watched Jarod and Parker grow; they are the closest thing I have to children. I know them better than I know Nicholas. And the Centre is destroying both of them. They are using Parker to destroy Jarod but with that act she will also be destroying herself… The Centre will not go unpunished for this.” His words were low but carried a sense of finality about them. Broots swallowed nervously, somehow he knew everything had been changed, all the rules reversed and the sides shifted. There was a war coming and it was time to choose which side you were on.

     The wind was blowing hard and the noise of the surrounding airplanes was deafening. The sweepers were undeterred however as they loaded the coffin shaped container into the cargo hold of a small plane. Jed walked back to where Miss Parker was standing out of the way.

     “He’s loaded and the plane’s ready to go Ma’am.” He shouted to be heard over all the noise. “You coming with us?”

     “No. I’ll take a helicopter. There’s not much Major Charles or the others can do once he’s in the air and I want to arrive before you to make sure everything’s ready.” She shouted back. He nodded and walked back to the plane. It didn’t take long for the plane to taxi to a runway and not much longer after that for it to be airborne. Parker watched its passage until she couldn’t see it anymore. Then she turned and walked back towards the hangers. And she kept walking, past the hangers and the passenger terminal until she was outside the airport completely, then she got into the black car parked outside and drove off.

     “Ah… Mr Lyle, Sir?” The secretary asked trying to gain the man’s attention while also trying to remain invisible.

     “Yes?” Lyle said shortly looking up at him with disinterest.

     “Mr Parker sent me… he said to say that ‘what has been lost has now been found, the proverbial son has finally returned home’.” He dictated faithfully, only to mutter under his breath, “Whatever that means.” He relaxed slightly relieved he had got the message out. It was rather an obscure and specific message and he had been worried he would get it out wrong. Obviously Lyle however was not as confused as to the message’s meaning. He immediately got up from his chair. The secretary backed out of the office as soon as he saw Lyle step from around his desk. He was almost certain that Lyle hadn’t heard his mumbled commentary but there was no way he was taking chances, because you didn’t get second ones when it came to Mr Lyle. Lyle paid him no heed, he had forgotten him the moment he finished relaying the message. The man was of no importance; it was the message that mattered. So Jarod’s finally returned home, Lyle thought, to never walk off these grounds again. A certain satisfaction filled him at the thought. He may be dead but Lyle stilled loved the idea that Jarod would never get that freedom he so dreamed about. Even in death he was still Centre property, still trapped in this hellhole. Lyle made his way to SL-14 without delay. The irritation that was Jarod was now dealt with but there was still work to be done. He couldn’t get credit for Jarod’s demise unless he was there for his unveiling.

     Broot’s face was a deathly white as he slid back into Sydney’s office. Syd looked up at him with an expectant expression on his face. Broots just stood in front of his desk without a word, not sure how to tell him.

     “He’s been brought in.” Sydney stated softly for him instead.

     “I… saw them carry him down toward SL-14.” Profound sorrow written in his face, “I’m so sorry Sydney.”

     Lyle joined Mr Parker and Raines outside the Centre’s own little morgue.

     “Well now that we’re all here why don’t we go in?” Mr Parker suggested. He seemed in a more relaxed mode than Lyle had ever seen him, Raines however looked disgruntled. But then Lyle figured that would be natural after only being informed an hour ago of what had been transpiring over the last eighteen hours. The cool air of the morgue greeted them as they stepped inside. The room was painted a light blue adding to the chilly atmosphere. One of the metal draws had been pulled out and on it laid a body covered with a white sheet. Even these men acquainted with death as they were, were stilled by the sight. A man walked through one of the doors opposite the entrance drying his hands.

     “There’s bad news I’m afraid.” He said tossing the towel he used to dry his hands onto a bench.

     “What do you mean?” Raines rasped.

     “I mean that this isn’t the guy you want.”

     “You’re saying that this isn’t Jarod?” Lyle asked his expression turning sour. The mortician walked up to the tray and casually pulled the white sheet away from the man’s face, folding it back to his chest.

     “Not unless your guy was a 60yr drunk who died of liver failure.” The three men stared almost unseeing at the deathly white face of the corpse that lay before them. The man’s face was pitted and haggard, tufts of straggly facial hair covered his jaw line. He had a rounded face with a weak chin and stringy light brown hair that lay matted and tangled on his head. The only thing about the man that was even remotely similar to Jarod was his weight; he weighed almost exactly the same as Jarod.

     “It’s impossible! I saw him! I made sure it was him, Jarod was dead when I left.” Lyle spoke quickly trying to acquit himself of any blame. “I don’t know how it happened but Major Charles must have switched the bodies somehow.”

     “It seems even in death the Pretender remains elusive… I want him found!” Raines rasped breathlessly, walking out of the morgue in disgust. Lyle soon followed him out intent on finding some answers. The mortician too had disappeared somewhere so all that was left was Mr Parker. He continued to stare at the corpse, his expression growing stormier by the minute. Finally he whispered angrily to himself.

     “What have you done, Angel?”

     The rain was coming down in sheets, the night sky clouded over completely. The house was bathed in darkness not a single light was on. A loud pounding sound fought to be heard over the rain. It continued persistent and unwavering. Jim turned over in his bed with a groan. Realising the noise wasn’t going away he lifted himself into a sitting position a grimace on his face as he listened to the continued pounding on his front door. He sighed and pulled his sheet aside. Whoever was out there was obviously desperate. He padded softly down the stairs undeterred by the almost complete darkness. The thought that it might be one of his patients made him quicken his step though once in front of the door the thought that it might be someone with no such innocent intentions made him pause. He looked out of the peephole but it was so dark and the rain coming down so hard it was impossible to see anything. The continued knocking finally decided it for him; there was a desperate quality about it that was unmistakable. He drew in a breath and unlocked the door swinging it open. He froze with disbelief at the sight that greeted him.

     “Parker?” He asked incredibly. Her dripping hair obscured part of her face as she stood on the porch holding her coat tightly against her, vainly trying to stay dry. “Come on, come inside. You must be freezing!” He entreated her, stepping out of the way so she could walk past him. But she just shook her head and turned away walking back towards the road. He figured she wanted him to follow so he quickly grabbed his coat from the rack by the door and headed after her. He walked bare footed across his front lawn holding his coat over his head wondering what the hell the woman he dated over six years ago was doing at his house in the middle of the night. When he finally caught up to her, she was standing next to a black jeep that was parked on the road outside his house. He walked up to the jeep and after giving her a quizzical glance looked inside. The light from a nearby streetlight assisted him in seeing what it was she had brought him out here to see. He quickly turned back to Parker with a surprised and confused expression on his face; there slumped on the back seat was a man, apparently unconscious.

     “Please… help him.” Parker pleaded softly, her eyes filled with desperation.

     End of Part 2

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