Oxford, England: very very early Saturday morning
*rinnnnng*
"Oh, for the love of...." Parker didn't open her eyes, but patted around for her cell, checking the time before opening it. "What?"
The voice on the phone had a clearly audible smirk to it. "Good morning, Parker."
"Nnnnngh. Barely." Parker curled back under the covers and muttered, "It's 2:34 in the morning in Greenwich Mean Time, you psycho. What the hell are you calling me for at this time of night?"
"I need your copies of the Centre plans that you 'liberated' last year." Most of the joking had already gone out of his voice. "Now."
"Demanding little slacker, aren't you? Why can't you hack in and get them yourself again?" Sleep was obviously not happening, so Parker sat up in bed, and glared out the moonlit window.
"Because I need to get back in there in 48 hours."
"You need to what?" A cigarette. Her non-existent kingdom for a cigarette. "You are not going back there!"
"I have to. They have my sister."
Jarod's voice was a shade too controlled, with a tightness that had only ever hinted at the mountain of badness behind Kyle's death.
Forget the cigarette. She needed alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.
"Your sister? How do you know that? And what do you think you're going to do from inside the Centre?"
"A program I wrote some time ago alerted me to the presence of a new Pretender at the Centre. From what I found in the files, she has to be Emily. The age and everything else fits the description Harriet Troutman gave me last year." She could hear Jarod take a deep breath. "Please, Parker." He never said please. "I don't have much time. I have to save her."
"I'm not sending them to you and letting you go in by yourself. I'll be there in fourteen hours." Always assuming she could book a jet on two hours' notice.
"You can't help with this! You can't be seen anywhere near the Centre when we escape, it'll jeopardize all your plans and-- no. No. I don't need your help."
"Oh, you need help all right," Parker sniped. "And you're going to get it. But not only from me." She shook her head. "Meet me in D.C. at noon, Eastern time, at-- hmm. The Hyatt-Regency. And quit arguing with me!"
"Parker...." She waited for his next protest, then almost flinched when he breathed, "Thanks."
Give him some hope of having his family back, and look at all the manners he found. Parker smiled sadly. "See you soon, Jarod. And--" It'll be okay. You're welcome. Don't worry. Hang on. "--don't do anything stupid before I get there."
A fast, cut-off laugh, then Jarod said, "Wouldn't dream of making you miss it," and hung up.
Parker flipped the cellphone shut, and then flopped back on her pillow. After ten minutes, she gave up the fantasy that she was getting back to sleep and got up to pack, make reservations for a Gulfstream, send some e-mails, and re-read her latest economics paper.
At least he had the courtesy to wait 'til a weekend to lose his mind.
[establishy, TBC, OOC=<3 ]
"Oh, for the love of...." Parker didn't open her eyes, but patted around for her cell, checking the time before opening it. "What?"
The voice on the phone had a clearly audible smirk to it. "Good morning, Parker."
"Nnnnngh. Barely." Parker curled back under the covers and muttered, "It's 2:34 in the morning in Greenwich Mean Time, you psycho. What the hell are you calling me for at this time of night?"
"I need your copies of the Centre plans that you 'liberated' last year." Most of the joking had already gone out of his voice. "Now."
"Demanding little slacker, aren't you? Why can't you hack in and get them yourself again?" Sleep was obviously not happening, so Parker sat up in bed, and glared out the moonlit window.
"Because I need to get back in there in 48 hours."
"You need to what?" A cigarette. Her non-existent kingdom for a cigarette. "You are not going back there!"
"I have to. They have my sister."
Jarod's voice was a shade too controlled, with a tightness that had only ever hinted at the mountain of badness behind Kyle's death.
Forget the cigarette. She needed alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.
"Your sister? How do you know that? And what do you think you're going to do from inside the Centre?"
"A program I wrote some time ago alerted me to the presence of a new Pretender at the Centre. From what I found in the files, she has to be Emily. The age and everything else fits the description Harriet Troutman gave me last year." She could hear Jarod take a deep breath. "Please, Parker." He never said please. "I don't have much time. I have to save her."
"I'm not sending them to you and letting you go in by yourself. I'll be there in fourteen hours." Always assuming she could book a jet on two hours' notice.
"You can't help with this! You can't be seen anywhere near the Centre when we escape, it'll jeopardize all your plans and-- no. No. I don't need your help."
"Oh, you need help all right," Parker sniped. "And you're going to get it. But not only from me." She shook her head. "Meet me in D.C. at noon, Eastern time, at-- hmm. The Hyatt-Regency. And quit arguing with me!"
"Parker...." She waited for his next protest, then almost flinched when he breathed, "Thanks."
Give him some hope of having his family back, and look at all the manners he found. Parker smiled sadly. "See you soon, Jarod. And--" It'll be okay. You're welcome. Don't worry. Hang on. "--don't do anything stupid before I get there."
A fast, cut-off laugh, then Jarod said, "Wouldn't dream of making you miss it," and hung up.
Parker flipped the cellphone shut, and then flopped back on her pillow. After ten minutes, she gave up the fantasy that she was getting back to sleep and got up to pack, make reservations for a Gulfstream, send some e-mails, and re-read her latest economics paper.
At least he had the courtesy to wait 'til a weekend to lose his mind.
[establishy, TBC, OOC=<3 ]