Chapter 33: A New Allie
At the Francois Mansion"All we can do is wait." Dr. Hawthorne said unable to hide his worry from Sark.
"Explain to me what's wrong with her?" Sark demanded for the third time in 5 minutes. He didn't like the defeated look in the doctor's eyes. Doctors should never look worried; he would take a doctor with a god complex any day.
"As I said before, the injury on her head caused an internal bruise on a delicate part of her brain. We won't know the extent of the damage until she wakes up, if she wakes up." Hawthorne explained patiently, he had been given his orders. He was to provide his patients with whatever he or she asked for, even if one of them was quickly wearing out his patience.
"I want to see the CAT scan." Sark ordered running a hand through his already messed up hair. He had ignored all requests to sit down or tidy himself up.
"If you'd like" Dr. Hawthorn said humoring him. He handed Sydney's file to Sark.
Sark pulled out the results of the scan from the folder and studued it intently. He paled slightly. "Get me Dr. Raymond Vladke."
"Vladke? Mr. King, I don't think that the most premier neurosurgeon in the world would drop everything and rush here to treat a patient with…" Dr. Hawthorne wasn't able to finish his sentence. A man's entrance into the room interrupted his train of thought.
The man, attractive in business attire, walked up to Sark and held out his hand. "Mr. Aiden King I presume."
"And you must be Nicholas Boyer." said Sark shaking Boyer's hand. Both men sized each other up and came to a mutual agreement that each were a force to be reckoned with.
"I understand that this has been very difficult for you and I'm sure that Dr. Hawthorne is doing everything he can to help Ms. Radcliff." Boyer said leading Sark away from the doctor and out of the room.
"It's not good enough. She needs a neurosurgeon." Sark insisted. He didn't like the fact that while he was under the alias of Aiden King, he was unable to access his vast resources and contacts. As Sark he could have Dr. Vladke shipped in willing or unwilling in less then 2 hours but as Aiden King, all he could do was wait and let others handle it.
"I will see what we can do. The doctor told me that you need to rest and get off your sprained ankle for it to heal faster." Boyer said looking pointedly at Sark's slight limp.
"I'm fine, I need to make sure that Sarah is getting the best treatment she can." Sark said getting into his alias as a man worried for a friend and client.
"No, what you need is food and sleep. I'll take care of the rest." Boyer said ushering Sark into a large room. "Ms. Radcliff is in the room next to you and that door connects the two rooms together. If you cannot adhere to the doctor's orders to sleep, you can at least sit next to Ms. Radcliff and ice your ankle. There are some clean clothes your size in the closet and the bathroom is through that door." Boyer said giving Sark the brief tour of the large suite like room.
"I have a lot of questions I need answers to." Sark said to Boyer's back as Boyer was leaving the room.
"Once, you have changed and visited Ms. Radcliff, you'll find me in the study. It's on the other side of Ms. King's room." Boyer left the room and shut the door behind him.
Sark walked toward the door that separated Sydney's room and his. He had his hand on the doorknob before he changed his mind. He realized the he was a mess. There was still some of Sydney's blood on his shirt and his muscles were screaming in pain. He sighed and walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He quickly searched the room for bugs or cameras and didn't find anything.
Sark glanced at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot his hair looked wild and out of place. He stroked his face with his right hand and as he had expected it was still smooth and free of stubble. There were a few scratches here and there but nothing bad.
He unbuttoned his shirt and winced when he shrugged off his shirt, his muscles were aching with pain. There was a bruise forming on the top of his left shoulder and few little cuts on his arms and hands. His upper body was hairless and the lines of his abs were etched symmetrically on his torso.
He began to unbuckle his belt when he noticed the slightly opened window in the bathroom. Instinctively he knew that he had to check it out. He stepped on the toilet seat to boost himself up to the window. It was easy to open. He pulled himself up allowing the upper half of his body to hang outside. There was a slight ledge under the window. They were on the third floor of the 6-floored mansion. He lowered himself on the ledge carefully, ignoring the pain in his arms.
He saw the small camera that was cleverly camouflaged protruding from the side of the mansion right outside of Sydney's room window. It was slowly moving from side to side and up and down and in a few seconds he would be revealed on the security monitor. He quickly scaled the wall toward the camera and quickly unfastened the watch on his wrist. He strategically used the watchband to immobilize the camera. He then slid under the camera and toward the library on the other side of Sydney's room.
He could hear Boyer's voice, as he got closer to the window.
"Damn it! How could this have happened? After years of searching we finally find her only to have led the Seekers right to her as well! This is unacceptable!" Boyer was saying.
"This only proves what we suspected, there is a mole within the organization." said Casey.
"I want whoever it is to be found immediately and deposed of, do whatever it takes. Is this mansion compromised?" Boyer asked abruptly realizing another danger.
"No, the emergency location was originally the townhouse in D.C., I changed it when I realized that we had a mole. The only person that knows that I took her here is the helo pilot and you. I've already eliminated him as the mole." Casey said.
There was a knock on the door and someone came in.
"Doctor, any updates on Ms. Radcliff's prognosis?" asked Boyer.
"No, I'm concerned that she's still unconscious. The CAT scan reveals that there is some damage to the hippocampus complex. We won't know the extent of the damage until she wakes up." Dr. Hawthorne answered.
"What is the worst case scenario?" Boyer asked.
"The worst case is that she lapses into a coma and never wakes up. But the most likely scenario is that she will have some memory loss when she awakens."
"Damn it! Are you telling me that she might wake up with no memory of who she is?" Boyer asked.
"That could be a good thing." said Casey. "If she can't remember who she is, there will be no problem keeping her here."
"She'll be defenseless!" Boyer exploded, unable to see the good in the situation.
"We'll keep her safe." Casey insisted.
"Will we be able to get a hold of that doctor that Mr. King wanted?" Boyer asked abruptly changing the subject.
"Dr. Vladke?" asked Hawthorne.
"Yes. Will we be able to procure him?" Boyer asked.
"It'll be a risk. He's too high profile and if he is a Seeker then he'll have proof that she's the One." Hawthorne said.
"So it's proven then?" Boyer asked in awe.
"Not only is she the splitting image of the One, she meets every criteria that the Prophecy lists. Her physiology is truly unique." Hawthorne said excitedly.
Sark heard a noise from below. There was a security guard walking below him. He stayed until the guard went around a corner and then he slowly made his way back to the window in his bathroom and climbed in but not before he retrieved his watch from the security camera.
Once inside, he removed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He allowed the hot water to rhythmically beat the top of his head until the heat of it relaxed his entire body.
Sark's mind was racing with all the new information. Boyer wasn't a Seeker as he had previously believed but he had accidentally led the Seekers to Sydney. Boyer knew about the Prophecy but he was working for Charles Francois, the son of one of the found members of the Seekers. There were so many pieces that weren't fitting together.
The Seekers. He felt the hatred rising from deep inside of him threatening to overwhelm him. He placed both of his hands against the shower wall and pushed against it as if doing so would push back the painful memories that usually lay buried within his subconscious. Those soul destroying memories that compelled him into devoting his life to finding every last member and destroying them, fought to the surface.
"Promise me! Promise me that they will pay for what they did to our baby!"
"I promise, whatever it takes, I promise!" Sark vowed.
