Anna saw the surprise on Cyrus’s face and wondered what he knew about her hobby. She knew that Natasha had dabbled with sketches and painting before going away to school, but she hadn’t been serious about it until she returned home to stay. It raised more questions about the portion of her life that Natasha had shared with Cyrus. He hadn’t said as much, but Anna was becoming more and more confident that their paths had crossed, perhaps romantically, in the brief period of time that Natasha had spent away at school. It was likely that her unscheduled return even had something to do with Cyrus. It might at least explain Natasha’s rigid response to his unexpected appearance.
When Anna looked again, Cyrus was examining the group of musical instruments and gear that was off to the side of the small artist’s nook. He seemed to have a special interest in the small stack of amps and the pair of guitars that stood on stands beside the speakers. One guitar held his attention in particular. It was purple with airbrushed red and black claw marks across the body.
Though Anna was in a hurry, she suspected that the instrument had triggered a memory, because there was a faraway look in his eyes as he ran his fingers down the neck of the guitar.
“She still plays?” Cyrus asked without looking up.
“Only by herself. I’ve asked her to play for me, but she won’t. I’ve walked in a couple of times and caught her when she didn’t see me. She’s good. I don’t understand her reluctance.”
Strangely, Cyrus nodded as though what she was describing made perfect sense. Then he stood up, took a long look at the third guitar stand, this one empty, before finally turning to move on.
“You were going to tell me why we’re here?” Cyrus urged.
“Right!” She crossed the room.
Anna led him to the wide doorway at the back of the room, and flipped a light switch as she entered the massive walk-in closet.
“When father took over the building, he had most of it gutted and renovated to his own specifications. He wanted his lab and office set up on the fourth floor—the kitchen and medical set up on two. And he had the entire third floor configured for personal space, mainly our bedrooms and guest quarters like yours.
“For the most part, the third floor required the least structural work. When the building was the French consulate, the third floor was mostly personal quarters. Most of it was gutted and reconfigured, but part of the original configuration remained because the rear wall didn’t need modification. Tash’s room still has one of the original walls from back in the old days,” Anna explained.
She moved to the back wall of the spacious closet and began shifting a section of hanging clothes. She pushed the hangers aside, revealing the oak paneling that was part of the ornate built-in shelving and hanger system.
“When the closet shelves were installed,” Anna explained, “they just bolted the wood paneling to the existing walls. It was years before we made the discovery, but one day we found this!”
Placing both of her palms against the large oak panel, she pushed. It took a moment, and she had to leverage all of her weight in a prolonged shoving motion, but finally there came an audible ‘click’. She stepped back as a section popped free revealing a dark cleft in the wall. She pulled the hatch open, a three-foot by three-foot section of the surface swung toward her on unseen hinges, revealing a hidden door.
“How in the hell did you two find this?” Cyrus marveled.
Anna just shrugged. “We think that most of the closet was a holdover from one of the suites back in the embassy days. This door leads to a passage that runs behind the bedrooms on this floor. There’s a narrow stairwell that goes down to the basement levels. There, you’ll find a tunnel that leads beyond the outer wall.”
Cyrus rubbed his eyes. The shocked look was plainly obvious on his face. “It must’ve been some sort of emergency escape route for the French ambassador. It’s not unheard of. Still, I can’t believe this wasn’t found when the building was reconfigured.”
Anna grinned sheepishly. “We’ve used it to sneak out on our own over the years. If Tash was feeling pent up and needed to get out by herself, this is how she did it.”
“Which means that she’s out there, unprotected, when someone is clearly targeting people close to your father.”
Anna didn’t know what to say. She only nodded.
Cyrus took a long look at Anna, then offered a tired smile. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll find her and bring her back.”
With that, he took a flashlight from the shelf and stepped into the darkness of the secret passage. He gave Anna a wave, and waited for her to close the door behind him.
After that, Anna knew that all she could do was wait and hope for the best. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be watching for Natasha to appear on the outside. Then again, it seemed even less likely that anyone would follow Gretchen to the United States…yet there she’d been attacked and was lucky to be alive.
Anna wasn’t sure why, but she had faith in Cyrus. Though he hadn’t said as much, she could see the concern in his eyes. She had confidence that he would find Natasha and talk her into returning. Hopefully…before anything bad could happen.
Chapter 44
The Voss Compound
11:19 pm
As soon as the hidden door closed behind him, Cyrus flipped the switch on the flashlight. He found himself in a four-foot wide hallway with walls made of stacked cinderblock. A thick layer of dust covered the floor, providing him with an easy view of a well-worn trail of small footprints leading off into the distance.
Cyrus followed the hall for nearly thirty yards before an opening appeared on his right. There, he discovered the platform of a narrow staircase that stretched both up and down from his perch on the third floor. Since Anna mentioned that the passage exited the facility via a tunnel through one of the lower levels, he headed down. But, even as he descended the twisting spiral staircase, he wondered what he might find if he explored the upper levels. It seemed an unlikely way to gain access to Voss’s secure lab, but it was a thought. It would require a massive oversight on the part of the construction crew to allow this sort of rear access to the high security lab. At the same time, it was likely that the very same construction crew had overlooked the hidden hallway and tunnel system in the first place.
Filing those ideas away for future reference, he reached the bottom of the staircase. Since he’d passed the platforms leading to other floors, he suspected he’d reached one of the subbasement levels. At least there was no question as to which direction to go; with the tunnel leading off in only one direction, he followed the only path available to him.
It was a safe bet that the tunnel was subterranean; the temperature had dropped nearly twenty degrees since he entered the cavern. He was walking down the center of what was essentially a concrete pipe, about eight feet in diameter. As with the hallway above, he could see the small footprints left in the chalky dust on the ground.
Cyrus followed the underground pipe for hundreds of yards—a distance that left no question that he’d passed beyond the outer wall of the compound. For the first time, he began to wonder where the tunnel might exit. Wherever it came out, it was likely to be a location that was controlled, and not open to the public. If the tunnel’s exit were obvious, there was no way it would’ve remained hidden for so long.
He walked the tunnel for several minutes. At one point, the path had taken a ninety-degree turn to the right, after which the slope dropped and took him at least thirty feet deeper. Finally, another ninety-degree turn brought him to the foot of a wide steel ladder that was bolted into the face of a smooth concrete wall. The top of the ladder disappeared though a wide circular hole in the ceiling about ten feet over head.
Again, lacking any choice of direction, Cyrus began to climb. Every rung reminded him that his existing injuries were nowhere near healed. Still, he pressed on. The ladder went much higher than he expected. After passing through the ceiling of the chamber, he found himself in a narrow vertical shaft.
It was fifty feet or more of climbing before he reached the top and emerged through the floor of a small room with a rough, textured concrete floor and matching walls. The room was tight; eight feet square at most, with the ladder emerging from the very center of the floor. The top of the ladder extended about five feet beyond the floor, making for a safe and easy dismount. Cyrus simply climbed to the top, then stepped off onto the firm footing of the eight-foot square room.
Shining his light around, he noticed a large hook beside the sturdy steel door on one wall. Three keys hung from the hook, each had its own key ring. Taking a closer look, he was puzzled to find that all three keys were exactly the same.
He tried the heavy steel door’s release lever and found that it wouldn’t budge. The purpose of the keys became clear. Pulling one from the hook, he inserted it into the lock and turned. The locks heavy mechanism spun easily, the lock disengaging with a deep thunk.
Pushing the door open only far enough to slide from the room, Cyrus stepped into the moonlit darkness and found himself on the roof of a commercial building several blocks away from the Voss compound. The building’s roof was covered in gravel. Here and there, patches of tarpaper substrate peeked through. At the far end of the roof, standing on powerful support legs, was a massive water retention tank.
Walking to the edge of the roof, Cyrus took in the city two stories below. It was going on midnight so everything was blanketed in the peaceful calm that came after the majority of the population had retired indoors for the evening. Still, the city around him was awash with scattered lights. Light came from street lamps, distant windows, the occasional passing car—the city slumbered, but there was still enough activity to keep Cyrus mindful and cautious of what could be hiding in the surrounding shadows.
At one corner of the roof, he found another ladder leading to the alley below. A tall, chain-link fence surrounded the foot of the ladder. The fence’s gate was unlocked, so he lifted the latch and stepped into the silent alley beyond.
A moment later, and he was standing on the curb of a wide city street. Sidewalks paralleled every lane within sight. It was the city’s downtown district. One and two story buildings lined the streets, some separated by small alleys. Rivven Rock was the capital city of the Isle of Kapros, and was by far its largest city. Still, by comparable population standards, the city was quite small. The Isle of Kapros, as a whole, boasted a population of less than five million people. The island nation itself had a landmass nearly equivalent to the large island of Hawaii. But with its proximity to Norway, its climate couldn’t have been more different.
Aligning the city’s visible landmarks in his mind, Cyrus considered his options. If Natasha was out there somewhere, there were only so many places she could go given the time of night. How many places would be open at this hour? Of course, she could’ve gone to visit a friend, in which case he had absolutely no chance of finding her. Though he was certain, if Anna knew of such a friend, she would’ve pointed him in that direction to begin with.
Walking across the deserted street, Cyrus headed for the only open business in sight. It was a twenty-four hour gas station, which was also deserted. If not for the bright lights shining from the attached convenience store, Cyrus would’ve assumed that it was closed.
His conversation with the station attendant lasted less than three minutes. By the time he walked away, Cyrus had a good idea where he would find Natasha. There was a bar just a few blocks away. According to the clerk, it had live music and was open late into the night.
She would be there. He was certain of it.
Cyrus walked through the empty city streets. The cold night air quickly saturated his body. The temperature was only a few degrees above freezing and, given his clandestine exit from the compound, taking a coat hadn’t been an option. By the time he rounded the corner and saw the entrance to the dive bar, it was a welcomed sight.
The exterior of the one story building was sturdy, but rundown. It was clad in old, discolored siding that looked more at home in some rural neighborhood rather than in the heart of the city’s downtown. Even the bar’s sign, which called the establishment simply, The Cuban, looked like it hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in decades. But for all that it lacked, the place was packed with people. The surrounding parking lot was filled to capacity with no obvious spaces to spare.
As Cyrus approached the front door, he passed a row of parked motorcycles. Some were new but many were old, classic Harleys. There were even a pair of beautifully restored Indians parked along the curb. A half dozen leather and denim clad bikers stood around a burning trash barrel near the door. They smoked cigarettes and eyed Cyrus with suspicion.
Cyrus didn’t say a word, but he felt the group’s eyes on him as he stepped into the dimly lit, tightly packed space. Old school rock boomed from an ancient jukebox in the corner. A large stage was set up at the far end of the room; it was covered with speakers and instruments, but no performers. Apparently, the band was between sets.
Cyrus scanned the room as he threaded his way through the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd and over to the bar. There must have been two hundred and fifty people packed into the place—a space that should’ve held just over a hundred on its best day. He could barely hear the canned music playing over the din of humanity.
Finally reaching his destination, Cyrus pushed in between two large bikers who were just taking their drinks from the bartender. Cyrus took advantage of the opportunity and ordered a beer from a tall blonde in a very tiny tank top.
While he waited, Cyrus glanced up and down the long counter, hoping to catch a glimpse of Natasha among the thundering mass of people. While he wasn’t sure of her current habits, he knew she’d never been much of a drinker. A crowd like this would’ve been near the top of her list of things to avoid under normal circumstances, too. But she did love live music. When the gas station attendant mentioned a local bar with a live band, Cyrus was sure that this would be the place. But now, as he looked around, he was feeling considerably less confident.
The bartender returned with Cyrus’s beer. He handed her a ten and told her to keep the change. She shot him an exhausted, but appreciative smile, as she stepped away from the bar. He was overpaying for the beer, but he figured she more than deserved the tip given the number of people she had to deal with. Plus, if worse came to worst, he would double back and ask her if she’d seen Natasha.
Taking a long pull from the beer bottle, Cyrus ambled off, pushing his way through the crowd and scouting the room. The place was so jam-packed, he couldn’t understand why people would choose to spend their night in such a way. Then again, what he saw likely constituted the nightlife ‘scene’ in the small city. These people were just taking what they could get. It seemed like a profitable business opportunity just waiting to be seized.
A reverberating screech bellowed from the speakers that were spread around the perimeter of the room. It became instantly apparent that someone, somewhere, had just picked up a microphone. The bubbling white noise of the horde reduced by half in response.
“Alright folks,” the disembodied male voice called above the clamor. “Thank you for waiting while we wet our whistles and took care of some personal business.”
The rest of the throng finally began to settle.
“Are you ready for some more rock-and-roll?” the man continued. “Cause we’ve got a little something special for you tonight. We’re lucky to have a local talent with us, and she’s agreed to sit in for a couple of sets.”
As soon as Cyrus heard the announcer refer to their guest as a she, his mind instantly flashed back to the empty guitar stand in Natasha’s room. His heart skipped a beat. There was only one thing that Natasha loved more than listening to live music, and that was playing it herself.
She wouldn’t be crazy enough to get on stage with all that was happening, he found himself wondering. It would mean standing in front of a crowd of hundreds, possibly with a target on her chest.
The announcer continued his
spiel, but the guest musician must have stepped out on stage just as her name was announced, because that part of the commentary became inaudible over the whooping and cheering. From where Cyrus stood, he couldn’t even see the stage. He was at the wrong angle and there was a fifty-foot wide wall of humanity between him and the raised platform.
But when the signature guitar solo launched the intro to a cover of AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long, Cyrus no longer needed to see the stage in order to know who was playing lead guitar.
Shit!
The crowd erupted with shouts, whistles and applause, as the drums rumbled and the rest of the band kicked into high gear. The band’s singer didn’t sound anything like either Bon Scott or Brian Johnson, but that didn’t matter. The room was going crazy.
Bull’s-eye or not, Natasha was on stage. Even after all these years, there was something about the sound of her guitar that was unmistakable. He began working his way in the direction of the stage. Cyrus’s mind had moved into heightened threat assessment mode. It was no small feat to move quickly through a room full of mostly drunken people who were now making a point of bumping into and bouncing off one another.
It was impossible to pick out a threat against a backdrop of pure chaos. Cyrus did the best he could, and felt some relief when he finally reached the rightmost corner of the stage. He took up a position where he could keep Natasha in his eye line while maintaining a sweeping view of the remaining floor.
After the first few minutes, when nothing catastrophic had transpired, Cyrus’s nerves settled by a matter of degrees. He still felt like she was a Prairie dog sticking her head out of a hole on the first day of hunting season, but he knew he’d been lucky to find her. What were the odds that someone else might track her to this random location as well?
Rogue Faction Part 1 Page 26