Rogue Faction Part 1

by Xander Weaver

  It was subtle, but Cyrus saw the slight narrowing of Dargo’s eyes. He wasn’t happy about the decision. Still, he must not have had any counter argument because he stepped forward and began removing the restraints.

  “I need a phone,” Cyrus said to Voss. “I want to check on Professor Ragsdale. Maybe he can tell me what’s going on.”

  The sad expression on Voss’s face surprised Cyrus. “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” he said quietly. “Richard has been in a coma since his attack. An associate at the hospital will alert me as soon as there is news regarding his prognosis.”

  Cyrus was confused by Voss’s statement. Any type of coma was news to him.

  “Richard and I attended University together,” he explained. “We are very close. His daughter contacted me as soon as she heard what had happened.

  “I don’t know who did this or why,” he continued. “But you did the right thing, bringing the package here. Richard would’ve wanted you to do that. And you’re safe here while we sort this out.”

  While Cyrus considered Voss’s words, he scratched at his jaw absently. Suddenly his eyes widened. Sitting straight up in the bed, he brought both hands to his face. Several days’ worth of stubble had accumulated.

  His eyes shot to Gretchen who was sitting quietly to the side. Then, he looked back at Voss. “My God,” he muttered. “How long have I been here?”

  “You’ve been unconscious since you were brought through the gate four days ago.” Gretchen said.

  Chapter 34

  The Voss Compound

  9:12 am

  Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed wearing a heavy cotton robe, Cyrus waited for Gretchen to return with a wheelchair. He’d spent the last eight days in bed, and desperately wanted to stretch his legs. Still, Gretchen had explained that his injuries were severe and that he shouldn’t expect to be on his feet right away. It would take some time for his body to regain its strength. She’d insisted he use the wheelchair, at least while he was taken to his temporary quarters and shown around the facility.

  The use of a wheelchair wasn’t a concern for Cyrus. Truth be told, he was just glad to be free of the catheter. He’d never experienced that particular unpleasantness before and hoped he would never suffer the indignity again. Removal had been bad enough. He was just thankful he’d been unconscious when it was inserted. More than anything, right now, he just wanted to take a shower. He hadn’t bathed since the night before boarding the train in Paris, and he could barely tolerate his own presence. Though he knew Dargo had issued an order that only security personnel and Gretchen be allowed access to him while in medical, he doubted anyone could’ve tolerated his scent, regardless.

  The doors to the infirmary squeaked open; Gretchen entered pushing an elaborate wheelchair. It had a sleek, high-tech look and was made of lightweight aluminum. A battery pack hung from the back of the chair, and he could see small motors attached to the large primary wheels. A small joystick was attached to the right armrest.

  He offered a quiet whistle at the sight. “You folks don’t skimp on anything, do you?”

  Gretchen smiled. “Nothing but the best from Doctor Voss.” She leaned toward him and offered a mock conspiratorial whisper. “It’s okay. Between you and me, he can afford it.”

  Cyrus laughed. She’d made the statement loud enough so that the security guard stationed at the door would overhear. Interestingly, the man didn’t so much as bat an eyelash at the statement, or their conversation. Voss’s men were very well trained.

  Gretchen had warmed to him during their time together. It was a good sign. He hoped to win over the rest of Voss’s family along the way. A deep-seeded uneasiness reminded him that one, more than the others, would present a particular challenge.

  Accepting her offered hand, Cyrus slid from the edge of the bed and onto his feet. His legs were weaker than he expected. He grudgingly turned and lowered himself into the wheelchair more quickly than he’d hoped. Stretching his legs would have to wait.

  “As you know, your infection has proven surprisingly resilient,” Gretchen explained. “I’ve had trouble getting the antibiotics to make headway. But the new course of treatment is finally showing some progress. We have Doctor Voss’s friend at the Mayo Clinic to thank for that. He suggested an experimental drug, which Doctor Voss had flown in just for you. Whoever shot you must’ve laced the bullet with something nasty.”

  A poisoned bullet? That was a new one in Cyrus’s book. He’d never heard of such a thing, and he’d examined the ammo that the assassins had been using, too. The rounds were coated in Teflon, increasing their odds of penetrating body armor. He’d been under the impression that the infection was the result of his body’s exposure to the Teflon, or the inadequate attempts he’d made to clean the wound. After fleeing the train and making his way to Voss’s compound via improvised transportation, he wouldn’t have had an opportunity to look into it even if it had occurred to him. At the time, staying off the grid while making his way to the compound had been his only priority.

  It seemed the assassin’s bullet had nearly completed its task after all.

  “But we have a problem,” Gretchen continued. “I’ll be out of the country for the next few days, so I’ll be leaving your care to my understudy.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll be in capable hands. The infection is under control. It’s really only a matter of monitoring your vitals and administering the antibiotic shots twice a day. I’ll be leaving pain medication for you to take as needed.”

  Though she didn’t say it, Cyrus realized the woman’s primary responsibility was taking precedence over his care. A tennis tournament was coming up in the United States, and Gretchen would be making arrangements in advance of Anna’s participation. According to his research, it was standard practice.

  “No problem,” Cyrus smiled. “I appreciate all that you’ve done. You saved my life.”

  Gretchen explained the simple procedures for operating and recharging the wheelchair. She also mentioned that one of the security team would be assigned to escort him at all times. Though this statement didn’t surprise him, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

  When the doors to the lab squeaked again, Cyrus tapped the chair’s joystick and spun around to face the newcomer. He was greeted by Anna’s beguiling smile.

  “Cyrus Cooper, this is Anna Voss,” Gretchen introduced.

  Cyrus shook Anna’s offered hand. “I think we’ve already met, haven’t we?” he asked with some trepidation.

  Anna laughed. “Then, you do remember? We weren’t sure that would be the case. You were in bad shape that day at the gate. It’s nice to meet you, Cyrus.”

  Gretchen stepped forward. “Anna will be showing you to your accommodations,” she explained. “And this is Mister Wagner.” She motioned to the burly dark-suited security guard standing post beside the door. “He’s been assigned to escort you for the remainder of the afternoon.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mister Wagner,” Cyrus said. Wagner met his eye, but offered only a slight nod in acknowledgment.

  “Don’t take it personally,” Anna explained. “Dargo’s very strict when it comes to the discipline of his men. They’re not supposed to even interact with us on a personal level.” She turned her head and spoke loudly over her shoulder. “They’re supposed to act like robots!”

  Cyrus laughed. Anna looked back at him and offered a sly smile, before continuing. “All kidding aside, they’re all good men and very good at what they do. They keep us safe. Can I show you to your room?”

  “Please! You wouldn’t believe how badly I want to take a shower.”

  Taking hold of the handles on the back of the wheelchair, Anna began pushing him toward the door. “Believe me,” she said quietly. “Anyone in the same room with you shares your pain.” Though he couldn’t see it, a tight smile crossed her face.

  “Tell me about it,” he responded. “I feel like I haven’t bathed in a month. And you wouldn’t believe where they start stic
king needles and tubes when you pass out in this place.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “I’m not kidding,” he continued. “I’m going to have nightmares…”

  Chapter 35

  The Voss Compound

  9:35 am

  Anna wheeled Cyrus down the hall and into the elevator; they rode up one level to the third floor. From there, she pushed him down the main corridor and around the corner. As they passed other closed doors, she explained that the bedrooms belonged to family members. After turning another corner, they entered a slightly narrower hallway with doors running along only one wall. Letting him know they’d reached the guest rooms, Anna gave a little laugh. It seemed humorous that they had guest rooms at all, she thought, since no one was ever allowed to visit the facility.

  Reaching the far end of the hall, Anna stopped at the last door. She showed Cyrus the touch-sensitive display at the edge of the doorframe.

  “It’s all pretty self-explanatory,” she said; but explained, nonetheless. “You press here to open the door. If the door is locked, the ‘open’ button will have been replaced with a ‘knock’ button. You can knock on the door the old fashioned way, but the rooms have heavy soundproofing for privacy. Odds are that no one will hear you. So tap the ‘knock’ button, and a chime will sound inside the room. The person on the inside can open the door from anywhere with a voice command.”

  His eyes lit up. “That’s really cool!”

  “It is,” she smiled. “There are a few more tricks to keep in mind. Say, it’s your room and you locked it while you’re out. When you come back, the button will display the ‘knock’ option. But you don’t need that, right? Because it’s your room, and no one is in there to let you in? Just place your finger on the button and swipe down across the screen.”

  She did what she was explaining, and the display changed to show a numeric keypad. “Just enter your personal code to unlock the door.” She tapped in the code of 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 to demonstrate, and the door hissed as it slid, disappearing into a pocket in the wall.

  “You can set the code to whatever you want,” she continued. “But keep in mind that security can override it if they need to.”

  She noticed Mister Wagner glaring at her, and offered him a shrug and a smile. These weren’t exactly state secrets.

  “Nothing but the best,” Cyrus muttered quietly to himself as Anna pushed him into the room.

  Cyrus’s room wasn’t nearly as large as the bedrooms belonging to family members, but Anna knew Cyrus would have no way of knowing that. All the same, she could tell he was impressed by the accommodations. A shortage of space had never been an issue inside the compound.

  The room was approximately two hundred and fifty square feet, and slightly rectangular. There was a queen size bed with a pair of large oak dressers along the wall to the left, and a good sized matching oak desk, complete with a laptop computer along the center of the back wall. The right side of the room was occupied by a large couch and matching pair of chairs that were arranged around a flat panel television hanging on the wall between a pair of tall speakers. The walls were a warm copper color, and the carpet was Berber in a rich earthy tone. There were two doors on the back wall, one on either side of the desk. One led to a richly appointed bathroom; the other, a large walk-in closet.

  Pushing Cyrus’s chair to the grouping of furniture by the entertainment center, Anna parked it before dropping herself into the chair opposite him. “All of your clothes were thrashed,” she explained. “They’ve been disposed of. The only things salvageable were your boots. We had someone get you a change of clothes. If you’re happy with them, we can send out for more. We pulled your sizes from your old stuff before they were burned.”

  Though she didn’t want to tell him, she and Natasha had done the shopping themselves the previous day. She doubted he would care much that they’d been the ones to select his more personal items, but for some reason the thought made her uncomfortable.

  She reflected on how strangely Natasha had been acting since first seeing Cyrus at the compound. Something about his appearance had deeply affected her. And though she’d tried, Anna hadn’t been able to convince her sister to talk about whatever it was. She was clearly upset; still, when she asked, Natasha claimed not to know him and refused to discuss the matter.

  She’d been distant and moody ever since—a countenance that was entirely foreign to her, and Anna was concerned. And though she wasn’t willing to talk, Anna had made numerous attempts at conversation over the course of the last several days.

  Anna had almost given up until the day before when she ran into Natasha in the hall. Anna was on her way to the motor pool. When she explained that she was going to the mall and planned to pick up a fresh set of clothes for Cyrus, Natasha offered to come along. After the moodiness Natasha displayed over the last several days, Anna hoped it was a sign that her sister’s foul disposition was finally lifting. Still, they’d shopped silently together with a four-person security detail in tow. Every attempt Anna made at conversation was met with simple shrugs or one-word responses.

  It wasn’t until they started selecting clothes that Anna began to get a hint of insight into the situation. When Anna selected a pair of jeans in the right size, Natasha took a long look at them as if she had something to say. When Anna asked what was wrong with the jeans, Natasha mumbled that they were the wrong brand and pointed to a different series of shelves.

  It was strange, but Anna shook her head and they’d moved on. Anna quickly selected a couple of t-shirts and then set out to find a hoodie to go with them. But when she came back, she found that her sister had replaced the two shirts with a different pair. When she asked what was wrong with the shirts she’d selected, Natasha seemed even more uncomfortable and simply shrugged. When Anna finally forced the issue, Natasha stated simply that she didn’t like the tags in the back of the collar of the first two, and had chosen a pair of shirts without the scratchy tags.

  Anna was floored. She’d never seen her sister act so strangely. But what upset her most was, that whatever was bothering her beloved sister, she wouldn’t share it.

  When they continued to shop, the pieces of her sister’s discomfort finally fell into place. While selecting socks, Anna asked her which ones to purchase, crew cut or ankle? Crew, Natasha quickly answered. When they reached the underwear, she asked, boxers or briefs? Boxers, Natasha responded immediately, and handed her the proper size.

  That had cinched it. At that point she was certain—despite claims to the contrary—Natasha knew Cyrus. And knew him well. For days Anna had been hard pressed to get anything more than grunts and grimaces from her sister, but now she was answering personal questions without thought.

  Anna knew something was going on, but she needed a way to figure it out. She knew that, whatever it was, Natasha was struggling with it. But if Natasha knew Cyrus, why wouldn’t she admit it? What was the secret?

  As messed up as the situation was, Anna realized that her sister wouldn’t act so strangely without good reason. So as much as she wanted to confront Cyrus, Anna understood that a direct approach wasn’t an option.

  Cyrus’s eyebrows arched. “I’m sorry, did you say that you burned my clothes?”

  She nodded. “What can I say? Our security is very thorough. Besides, your stuff was history. It was covered in blood and God knows what else.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Cyrus eyed Mister Wagner who was standing beside the door to the hallway. Anna guessed that he was thinking their security procedures leaned close to the side of paranoia, and she really couldn’t blame him.

  “I left an iPod in the desk for you. You can use the laptop to access the music that Tash and I have shared on the network. If you want something more, you can just download it. The laptop’s signed into my account. Help yourself.”

  “Tash?” Cyrus asked. His confusion was evident.

  “I’m sorry,” she smiled. “My older sister, Natasha.” She watched his eyes for any hin
t of recognition that the name might stir. When there wasn’t any, she only grew more interested.

  On to plan B…

  “I’m sure you’ll meet her later. Anyway, our music libraries are shared on the Wi-Fi. You’ll be able to pull it up on the laptop.”

  “Thanks,” Cyrus said, with a warm smile. “That’s very generous.”

  She shrugged. “Believe me, you’ll need it. It seems you’re a prisoner here, just as much as the rest of us. You’ll need the distraction if you’re going to save your sanity!”

  Walking to the door, she continued, “So the clean clothes are over there, and we can finish the tour when you’re smelling more…human,” she laughed.

  “Thanks,” he grinned.

  “Oh, and Gretchen said that your dressings will need to be changed after you get cleaned up. Have Mister Wagner take you back to medical when you’re done showering.”

  Chapter 36

  The Voss Compound

  9:50 am

  Once Anna left, Cyrus took a closer look at his room. It was his first chance to stretch his legs after being bound to a bed for more than a week. He found himself lightheaded and weak, but even the short walk around the surprising well-appointed room was invigorating. The guard standing inside his door, however, was more than a little disconcerting. Mister Wagner didn’t watch him, exactly, he mostly just stood like a living gargoyle; his eyes unmoving. If not for the rise and fall of the man’s chest, he could’ve passed for a mannequin. While off-putting, this also told of Wagner’s professionalism. Cyrus knew that standing station while maintaining a detached and unassuming profile didn’t come without a great deal of experience.