"Everyone, please find a place to sit."
Some of the women glanced at the floor with their noses wrinkled and remarked about sitting on mouse droppings and cockroaches. Adrian narrowed his eyes. "Sit!"
Startled, all of the members sat without another word of protest. He pinned each one with a look until they squirmed and glanced away. "I will not hear another word about the condition of this building. Even as you all are bitching about bugs and rodents, I am making plans. Plans like you have never imagined. The Guild of the Rose will become known throughout the world."
He surveyed them, relishing how their shock turned to curiosity as he allowed the tension to build.
"We did not fail with Mark Taylor. Instead, he is even more famous than he was before, and that was our doing. We have that kind of power. When we bring him down for the final time, our power will be immeasurable. People will flock to our guild hoping to become members." He pointed at them. "As senior members, you will all be bishops when that happens. My inner circle. Think of the power you will have."
He swept an arm out, and said, "All of this is but a minor inconvenience, a small price to pay. Soon, we will have a complex to rival any on earth. It will have fountains and statues. There will be private apartments for all of you, and all of your needs will be taken care of. You will want for nothing."
Their eyes lit up and he let it sink in for a few moments. "These things take time. For now, we sit tight while I lay some groundwork. I'll have to leave the country for a short time to make some arrangements. In the meantime, Judy Medea will be in charge. She's proven herself worthy. You will obey her as you would me."
Judy's head came up in surprise as she gave a tentative smile. He still wasn't sure of her loyalty, but he was positive of her fear. She would do whatever he told her to do.
Mark awoke and his eyes went to the chair beside the bed. It was empty and he felt a pang of disappointment. He hadn’t been very pleasant to Lily and it was no wonder she had left. He looked at the big clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was late afternoon.
Brenda entered carrying a dinner tray. “How about some real food? Feel up to it?” She set the tray on his table and removed the lid from the plate. “You were sleeping so I ordered for you. I figured a hamburger would be a safe bet. Is that okay?”
Mark nodded. “Sure. That looks good.”
A nurse appeared at the door and spoke to Brenda about a patient in another room. “Okay, Mark. I have to go, but if you need anything, put on your light.”
“Thanks. I should be fine.” Mark sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled the table closer, scanning the tray for ketchup packets. He spotted several next to the ever-present green Jell-O and reached for one. Realizing he couldn’t open it with his hands, he put the edge between his teeth and pulled. The packet ripped open but flew out of his hand and slid across the floor towards the door. “Dammit!”
“Lose something, Mark?”
He looked up from the smear of red on the floor to see Jessie step into the room and bend to pick up the errant packet.
“Whoa!” Jim sidestepped to avoid running into her backside. “Maybe you shouldn’t do that, Jessica.” A wide grin split his face.
Jessie straightened and raised an eyebrow at Jim. Mark almost felt sorry for the other man being on the receiving end of the look. Jim's grin dissolved. Jessie tossed the packet in the garbage can then approached the bed, her expression softening.
“How are you feeling?”
Mark put the lid back on his dinner. “Okay.” He looked between the two. Was this a social call or did they have news for him? What little appetite he’d had dwindled to nothing.
“You’re looking a lot better than you did the last time we saw you.” Jim leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets as he appraised Mark.
Mark couldn’t remember them visiting, but maybe he’d been out of it when they had come by. “I was probably pretty sedated then. I don’t remember much about the first few days I was here.” He reached for his juice. His appetite was gone but his mouth was dry as a sandbox.
Jessie looked confused and glanced at Jim then back to Mark. "I think Jim meant at the warehouse.”
Jim nodded, his expression grim. “Yeah, Taylor, that was pretty…bizarre.”
The bottom dropped out of Mark’s belly and his ears began to buzz. In some part of his mind, he was aware that someone had rescued him but he hadn’t thought that part through yet. They had been there? Jim and Jessie had seen him like that? He couldn’t look at them as he imagined how he must have appeared to them. He swallowed bile. He’d been hanging there in the warehouse like a side of beef.
For the second time that day, he felt like vomiting. It was bad enough knowing that others knew of his humiliation, but to have someone he knew witness it firsthand was like a kick to the gut. Mark closed his eyes and leaned his head on his hand, his elbow propped on the table. He wished Kern would have just finished him off. It would have been a lot more merciful than letting him die of humiliation.
“Damn, Taylor! What’s wrong?” Jim was beside him, his hand on Mark’s right shoulder. “You just looked like someone drained what little color you had right out of you.”
Jim moved the table out of the way and tried to urge Mark back in the bed. “Lie down before you pass out.”
Jessie pushed the nurse call light and when it was answered, barked out, “We need some help in here!”
Mark, cradled his head in his hand, his eyes shut, while he mustered the last shred of dignity he had left. “Get out. Just leave me alone.”
Mark's body shuddered as he hunched over and after a few seconds, he brought his feet up and lay curled on his side. Jessica leaned over him, pulling the covers up, but Mark ignored her presence, his mouth clamped into a tight line and his eyes still closed.
Jim stepped away from the bed and reached out, grasping Jessica’s elbow and giving a little tug. When she looked at him with an eyebrow raised in question, he angled his head towards the door. He wasn’t sure what had set Taylor off, but it was obvious that the man was barely keeping it together.
“But-” Jessica tried to shake off Jim's hand, shooting a worried glance at Mark.
“Let’s go.” Without waiting, Jim turned and headed towards the hall and after a moment, he heard the tap of Jessica's boots on the tile behind him.
He strode down the hall until he found a little sitting area and she followed him.
“Jim! He needs some help in there. We should get the nurse.”
“What he needs is a little time to get himself together.” Jim crossed his arms and leaned one hip against a window ledge, half-sitting. “Couldn’t you tell that Mark was about to lose it in there?”
She wore a puzzled expression and tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced back down the hallway towards Mark’s door. “I thought he was in pain…”
Jim gazed down at his foot resting on the floor, tapping it against the tiles as he tried to think of a way to explain his theory to Jessica without causing further embarrassment to Taylor. At first, Jim had been as mystified as Jessica at Mark’s sudden change in demeanor, but he thought back over the conversation and realized what had hit Mark so hard.
Jim had done enough interrogations and had seen subjects display similar reactions, especially if the interrogator threatened to show videos of the questioning to the subject's family. They were often terrified of loved ones seeing them like that. The feeling of helplessness and of being a victim was almost as hard for some to handle as the actual attack. It didn't matter that Taylor wasn't new to…interrogations, this was different. Jim refused to think of his own past questioning of Taylor as torture, it wasn't even close to what these animals had done. Taylor had been the victim of a brutal beating, torture and attempted murder, that went beyond anything the government had done to him.