Chapter 9
"Jeez. Does it ever stop raining in this freakin' place?" Hobbes sniped irritably, wiping a hand across his head and sopping strands of hair. He was wet right the way through to his birthday suit and then some. As if on cue thunder rumbled angrily in the heavens and a lightening bolt ripped through the night skies, illuminating the ramparts and the imposing tower of the distant medieval structure against the dark horizon.
"Great, just great," he grouched. "We got Count Dracula's castle, we got a wild electrical storm for dramatic effect. Now all we need are some torch wielding vigilante villagers to make it complete."
Claire sniggered. Even though she was also soaked to the skin she didn't mind too much, and something about Bobby's constant griping was reassuring in an odd sort of way.
A faint scuffle from somewhere ahead had Hobbes pushing Claire back into the relative safety of the crumbling and derelict woodsman's cottage; their temporary shelter against the foul weather. From there they both watched cautiously as two figures emerged from the forest and headed towards them, with Bobby only relaxing enough to lower his gun when they were close enough for him to identify Rudy. The other had to be the LMI female agent in place at the Institute.
Now they were all crouched together in the one section of the cottage that afforded some cover from the elements, and once introductions were out of the way Lili brought them quickly up to date on activity within the Institute.
"I haven't seen your agent for several weeks, but I know he's still there and probably undergoing some sort of behavioral therapy," she advised Bobby and Claire gravely.
"You need to get him out of that place and as far away from those devils as soon as you can."
"With your help we aim to do just that," Bobby responded firmly, earning himself a rueful smile from the young woman.
"And speaking of the devil." Lili turned to Rudy, eager to share some more important news. "Tomaszko paid us another visit earlier this week. Rumor has it that he was there to see their young friend."
Rudy spat something out harshly that sounded like a Latovanian curse.
"So who's this Tabasco mook?" asked a curious Bobby.
"It's not so much 'who' he is Agent Hobbes," Rudy responded grimly, "but 'what' he is. And what he is, is a very, very dangerous man."
Lili leaned in a little towards the two American agents, as she was greatly intrigued by the 'looks' they had been sharing. "What could someone like Theodore Tomaszko want with your friend?"
Claire sighed knowingly. "Oh, I bet I could think of something."
Later that same night…
Bobby Hobbes had never considered himself claustrophobic, but about half way into their long descent through the ancient underground tunnel he began to get the feeling that everything was closing in around him. An all-pervading stench of decay and neglect surrounded them, and it also didn't help that it was so goddamned dark; the small flashlights they all carried as part of their kit barely illuminating the oppressive gloom. Every so often though, a beam would pick out one of the eerie wall carvings lining their route, and it crossed Bobby's mind that the demonic little figures were following their every move.
They had entered through a small fissure which lay a short distance from the woodsman's cottage, set somewhere deep in the forest and obscured by dense foliage and large boulders. Even in daylight it would have been virtually impossible to locate if you didn't know what you were looking for.
Now Lili led the group as they picked their way carefully through the decades worth of debris, including some of the heavy wooden crossbeams that should have been supporting the roof, and large chunks of stonework that had eroded and crumbled from the walls. Their route was made that much more treacherous by the inches deep covering of dark stagnant water, and at one point Bobby had stumbled on a piece of rubble and lost his footing going down heavily on hands and knees, which is when a lot of the cold mucky grime had seeped over the top of his boots so that he now had to suffer with every squelching step.
To add to the general angst, Eberts' latest pride and joy - state-of-the-art miniature digital transmitters - had been on the fritz practically from the minute they had started their descent, and any and all attempts to establish contact with their colleague, waiting topside with Mikhail Tzarnov, had met with a hiss of static.
Just as Hobbes was fighting the irrational urge to hot foot it back along the tunnel and into the open, they came to an abrupt halt at what appeared to be a dead end, waiting while Lili directed her flashlight to one of the blocks on the wall ahead marked with another creepy carving of a half man/half goat creature. Reaching up on tiptoes she touched her hand to the carving and almost immediately a section of the wall slid aside with a loud grating of stone on stone. Then she was beckoning them through to the small ante-chamber that lay on the other side, this one already lit by the lantern she had left there earlier.
"Is this it?" Claire asked in a strained whisper, and Lili nodded. "Thank heavens! That tunnel gives me the bloody creeps."
"Yeah, you and me both," Bobby chimed in. "Do we gotta come back this way?"
"Unfortunately, we have no other choice," answered Rudy, who obviously hadn't enjoyed the experience much himself.
"It's not so bad when you get used to it," was Lili's amused response, as she waited for them to edge past her into the small chamber. Then she pressed another carving and the wall slid back into place behind them.
Just ahead was an archway through which a staircase was just visible in the half light. Once again Lili guided the way, with the other three following in single file as they negotiated the narrow flight of steps leading up into a larger chamber and the infamous dungeons, which were every bit as grim as they had all imagined. The chamber itself was oval in shape with a stone slab at its center, now covered in moss, grime and other stuff that none of them really cared to examine too closely. Six solid looking wooden doors with iron grills lined each side of the oval.
Their collective relief was obvious as they exited the dungeons via yet another staircase, this one was steeper and longer than the last, curving and twisting its way up to the main part of the castle, and when they finally reached the top and another heavy oak door Lili held out a hand to still them.
"The kitchens, utility rooms and some of the staff quarters are on the other side of this door, so we need to take great care from here," came the warning in a hushed tone. "Without the proper security clearance or access codes to the level where they are holding your friend, I can only get you so far. After that we will have to….," she searched for the correct word in English.
"Improvise," Bobby offered helpfully, earning himself a quick nod of gratitude from the young woman. "Story of my life since I've been working with Fawkesy," he mumbled, though Claire was the only one who recognized the irony in his voice.
Without further need of conversation Bobby and Rudy both drew their handguns, with Bobby now moving to take point. He waited until the others indicated they were ready, then carefully turned the heavy iron handle on the door and opened it slightly, peering around the crack as a precaution. The hallway beyond was a marked difference from the bleak and disused part of the castle from which they had just emerged, even though the walls were of a clinical white, made all the more stark by the overhead neon lighting.
With the coast clear, Hobbes pushed open the door all the way motioning the others out, and they moved rapidly down this long stretch of hallway to the staircase at the far end and up into the main part of the Institute.
Although still retaining the character of the ancient structure, including stone walls, ornate arches and flagstone floors, this next sub level was warmly lit with small lights set into the high vaulted ceilings, and had an air of modernization and elegance. Dark polished wooden doorways lined the passageway, and although both Hobbes and Claire felt the overwhelming need to locate Darien, they just couldn't resist a quick glance into some of the rooms beyond..
Nearly all were offices, labs or examination rooms of varying sizes, some with state-of-the-art equipment that had Claire green with envy and wishing she could get her hands on just a few items for her own lab back in San Diego. Towards the end of the passageway they came to an unmarked door that Lili advised led to Dr. De Wolfe's private consulting rooms. Hobbes tried the handle just out of curiosity and was amazed when the door clicked open. Quirking an eyebrow at Claire as they entered into a large, stylishly furnished office complete with large open stone fireplace, expensive rugs and a rich tapestry adorning one entire wall; probably to compensate for the lack of windows at this lower level. Two doors led off from the office; one into a white room with a large two-way mirror at one end and a black leather examination chair at its center.
With a look of distaste, Claire idly fingered the reinforced metal bands positioned strategically to hold the occupant in place at the head, the neck, across the chest and at the wrists and ankles. There was only one person who sprang to mind who would possibly warrant this type of restraining, and from Bobby's thunderous expression she knew he was thinking the same; Darien had been held down in this chair at some point, going through God knows what at the hands of Arnaud and his new playmates.
Suspended from the ceiling right above the chair, was a plasma screen and the image still frozen onto it made them both draw in a sharp breath: it was a shot of a smiling Darien with his arms draped around an equally happy looking Ella Craven.
Bobby struggled to keep control of his emotions. "I've seen that picture before. Fawksey has it on the nightstand by the bed in Lab 3, only that one is of him with his girl Frankie, not the Bride of Dracula."
"Well, it's obvious they've got a copy and superimposed her face onto it," Claire stated acidly.
"But for what purpose?" asked a curious Rudy, who had held back in the doorway with Lili.
Claire responded distractedly, biting her lower lip. "If everything we suspect about this place is true, then my guess would be some sort of brainwashing or conditioning." She shared another anxious look with Bobby. "The good news would appear to be that whatever Arnaud's up to this time, he obviously needs Darien intact…meaning no harvesting…" touching the back of her head to stress the point, without giving too much away to their Latovanian colleagues, "…and tractable. The bad news is that we have absolutely no idea what we're dealing with."
The second door in the office - this one heavy reinforced metal - was sealed tightly shut and protected by a coded key pad. A cursory attempt to open it was aborted, which was frustrating because they suspected that Arnaud's lab lay on the other side. But in the end they just didn't have the time necessary to override the complicated security access codes. Bobby kicked the door in frustration before he turned to follow the others back out into the passageway.
They ascended four more levels using the steep staircase. Passing through Level One and the large, grandly appointed lobby and reception, which served as the official and respectable front of the Belnickov Institute; Level Two, where there were more therapy and treatment rooms plus the patients' rooms and facilities. Of the remaining levels; Three was reserved for very senior personnel accommodation, with the top floor being the Institutes version of 'maximum security', and only a select few were allowed access. This is where Darien was undoubtedly being held.
There was an elevator that would have taken them up as far as Level Three, but they avoided it to minimize the possibility of an encounter with a random member of staff or security - even at this late hour.
It was on the second level where fate decided to play them a favorable hand.
The staircase ended abruptly here, and to continue upwards they needed to traverse the entire length of passageway right to the end in order to take up the next section. As they were about half way along, a doorway suddenly opened and they all rushed to flatten themselves the other side of an archway, holding their collective breaths. It was as the footsteps neared that Hobbes decided to take a risk, peering cautiously out from their hiding place. What or rather who he saw heading their way, brought a malicious smile to his face and he raised his handgun in readiness, motioning to the others to remain quiet and still.
He pounced the instant the tall, thin figure drew level, reaching out to grab the man by the collar of his casual sweater and slamming him into the solid wall; his gun digging into his face, daring him to move a muscle.
Dr. Wesley Carter grunted in pain and his fingers vainly clutched at the book he had just obtained from the Institute's well stocked library, as his eyes stared in abject terror at his assailant - Hobbes- and then darted to a smirking Claire Keeply.
"Well, well. Lookee who we have here," Bobby snarled, keeping his voice low. The muzzle of his gun grinding spitefully into the taller man's flesh. "If it ain't everyone's favorite traitor."
"Oh my God…" was all he managed to choke out before Bobby released his grip, only to double him over with a sharp jab to the stomach. When he could finally catch his breath again, Carter tried to work through the pain and focus tear-stained eyes on his former colleagues. His gold-rimmed glasses had been knocked sideways as he'd stumbled, and he now used a shaking hand to push them back up his sharp nose. Anticipating more of the same at any moment from Hobbes, it was actually Claire who grabbed him next, pressed him roughly back against the wall and sunk her fingers viciously into his groin, twisting until she was rewarded with a high-pitched squeal from the man, which Bobby quickly smothered with his hand.
"You've turned a funny color there, Wes," Bobby advised through a grin. "And the lesson for today is: Never part a Keeper from her Kept." He took a threatening step forward, though perfectly happy to leave the physical stuff to Claire for the moment. "Where's Darien, you asshole?"
Behind them Rudy and Lili kept a careful watch on both ends of the hallway and waited.
"I…1 don't…," Carter blustered, yelping as Claire gave his private parts another eye-crossing squeeze. He swallowed audibly. "She…Ella will kill me," he whined miserably as his knees trembled and threatened to buckle from under him..
Bobby shrugged. "So what! If you don't give us what we want in the next five seconds, then our lovely Claire here is probably gonna rip off your cojones and stuff 'em down your throat. Ain't that right Keepie?"
Taking a moment to flip a strand of blond hair casually from her face Claire smiled sweetly but there was no mistaking the pure malice in her voice, "If he's lucky." Carter gulped again, never doubting for a moment that she would carry out the threat, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.
"Five…four…"
"Okay, okay," Carter cut in resignedly. "I'll tell you where he is." Whimpering in relief as the pressure on his groin was immediately relieved. Claire stepped back, her lovely gray eyes sparkling with amusement as they locked momentarily with Bobby's.
"Better still, weasel," Bobby added as his hands began a skilful search, easily finding the keycard in the back pocket of Carter's plaid pants. He held it up in front of the terrified man's face. "You can take us to him."
Grabbing Carter's upper arm, Hobbes propelled him into the passageway. "And don't try any funny business."
Bringing up the rear of the group with Rudy, Lili grinned after the two foreign agents. "They may be a little crazy, but I'm growing fonder of them by the minute."
Ella Craven pushed herself up from the pillows and reached out a hand to switch on the small bedside lamp, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
There it was again; a soft tapping on the door of their quarters, Grabbing her wristwatch from the nightstand she squinted to check the time and groaned. 0300 hours.
Beside her, breathing softly and sprawled face down lost deep in a partially drug induced sleep, was Darien. His intensive session with Arnaud for most of the previous day had left him dazed and chronically exhausted, so by the time they'd arrived back here - just before midnight - he had just about enough energy and logic remaining to shower and change into some loose sleep pants and a vest. After that he'd virtually collapsed on the bed and hadn't really stirred much since then.
She ran a hand delicately up and down the curve of his long lean back and he mumbled something incomprehensible, shifting slightly.
As the tapping became more insistent she finally rose with an exasperated sigh, pulled on a red silk robe to cover her nakedness and headed for the door.
"Alright, alright. I'm coming," she grouched irritably, as she tied the belt at her waist. "This had better be damned important."
A quick check through the spy-hole revealed the slightly distorted image of Wesley Carter, and she vowed to skin the annoying man alive if this wasn't a life threatening emergency. They all had an early start in the morning.
With not much more thought, she tapped the four digit code into the keypad on the wall and a moment later the electronic locks slid back and the door clicked open.
"This had better be imp…," she started to repeat her earlier threat just as the heavy door suddenly crashed all the way open, the impact knocking her off balance. Her reflexes soon took over though, and with an angry cry she made a dash for the small dining area and the gun still hanging in its holster over the back of a chair where she'd left it earlier..
She was fast, but there was no way in hell Bobby Hobbes was going to let her get the better of him again, taking her down with a flying tackle in a tangled mass of wildly flaying limbs. The enraged woman lashed out at him desperately, with hands clenched tightly into claws, knees and feet trying to target his legs and groin, all the while screaming obscenities. In the end, it took a couple of powerful backhands to knock the fight from her just long enough for Hobbes to flip her onto her stomach, and then with Lili's help fasten the cuffs around her wrists. Lili then took great pleasure in slapping the silver duct tape over the woman's mouth, ignoring the outraged glare.
When he was sure she would cause no immediate problems, Bobby hauled Ella roughly to her knees then went to join Claire, leaving Rudy and Lili to watch over their two captives.
Claire was kneeling at the side of the bed, speaking softly to the still sleeping form as she gripped his wrist between her fingers, checking his pulse.
Bobby looked on anxiously, the relief at seeing his best friend still in one piece almost overwhelming "Is he okay?"
"Hmm, I think so," Claire responded, now in full doctor mode. "His heartbeat's a little erratic, but he might be having a bad dream or something. She patted his face gently, calling to him. "Darien, come on sweetheart. Wakey, wakey."
When all this achieved was a bad-tempered grumble and an attempt to bat them away, she tried again, adopting her sternest Keeper- tone, the one she sometimes used on him when he was at his most petulant. "Darien Fawkes, you open your eyes right this minute, or else."
They were almost instantly rewarded by a quick jerk of his body and then soft brown eyes that squinted open one at a time to fix dazedly on them. Seconds later as full consciousness was restored he scrambled upwards and desperately backed away, staring wildly from one to the other, breathing heavily.
Bobby's hand reaching out to placate him just seemed to cause more distress, so he pulled back looking to Claire for guidance, but she just shrugged in bewilderment..
And their confusion was increased further when Darien finally found his voice and managed to rasp out to two of the people who had haunted his dreams of late.
"Whoever you are, keep the hell away from me!"
