The hallway outside the bedroom was dimly lit, with a soft light permeating the first floor. The house was extravagant, with two identical staircases leading from the foyer downstairs and meeting up, with a row of bedrooms lining the opposite wall. The floor was richly carpeted, his shoes disappearing hallway in the deep carpet as if burying in cloud fluff.
Cyan was bare foot, padding across the hall towards the staircase leading to the right. Falcon was grateful he hadn't asked him to take off his shoes, he hated being unprepared and the presence of the shoes on his feet assured he could take off at the first sign of danger. But right now, he was risking it. He was risking exposing his face to the world because Cyan had asked him to work for him. But, even if the danger hadn't been lingering over his head, he would have still kept the shoes on.
He breathed deeply in the golden glow, filling lungfuls of air into his aching body, which was crashing as the adrenaline rushed out. The lingering danger had turned into a persistent throbbing at the back of his head, loud and thumping, much like the sound his boots would make.
Cyan descended the stairs gently, pushing his feet into a pair of fluffy slippers at the bottom. His toes stuck out at the front like a child's, and he wiggled them a bit as he adjusted, making for a narrow corridor leading off from the foyer into a much darker part of the house.
After a few turns, where Falcon could have sworn it was not a mansion but a labyrinth, they reached a metal door with a mark SECURITY on the top.
Falcon's gut twisted, just the thought of being in a room with guards and officers tugged at his confidence. Cyan must have sensed his discomfort as he smiled at him warmly and knocked on the door.
Falcon found it absurd, that he had to knock at a door in his own house, before he realized Cyan was just showing manners. His knuckles made a loud rapping sound on the metal and he heard the grating of a chair before the heavy door grinded open and a fierce guard appeared, giving Cyan a polite business-like smile.
'What might be the matter, Sir?' He asked.
The guard was dressed in a crisp green uniform, the shirt tight against his massive chest. He was bald, but not old, with a very straight back, like he was in a permanent salute. There was a line between his eyebrows like he spent most of his time regarding other people with distaste. But his eyes were sharp and bright, which turned curious as they landed on Falcon.
Cyan pushed into the room, beckoning Falcon to follow him who did so with a heavy heart. The room was not large, but not small either. All four walls were covered with monitors that showed black and white images of the entire mansion, much like the films he had watched in his childhood. The lighting in the room was dim, a stale smell of fried food and alcohol lingering in the air.
'Oh, nothing's wrong, Pitt.' Cyan shook his head reassuringly. 'Meet Jason. He would be joining you.' He said as if stating the weather.
Every eye in the room turned to him. He felt the weight of them like Thor's hammer onto every part of his body, and he was not reassured to see their twisted expressions. The guards had stopped whatever they were doing and turned to him in contempt. There were four men in the room, all sitting on stools in front of the screens except Pitt who must have gotten up to open the door for them. There was nothing but suspicion in their eyes.
'I am sorry, Sir, what?' Pitt said.
'Yes, please find a uniform his size and give him a weapon. He is my personal bodyguard from today.' Cyan smiled, politely dismissing the incredulous looks he was receiving from the rest of the people in the room, including Falcon.
Personal bodyguard? That was the job Cyan was giving him? This meant he would be by Cyan's side all the time. Oh, this was better than he had thought, he could keep an eye on him and see if he tried to take the package out.
'But…but, sir, you can't do that. You hate bodyguards. You fired Erik after he followed you into the bathroom, didn't you?' Pitt sounded distressed. 'How can you trust this man?' He surveyed him with mild revulsion. The man sounded sincere, hoping Cyan wouldn't walk himself into a disaster.
'Just dress him up, Pitt, and try not to kill him.'
Pitt let out a low growl in his throat. 'Oh, I will dress him up, alright.' He said, not caring if Cyan heard him. They probably had a healthy bond, Falcon thought.
Cyan smiled again, muttering a quiet 'thank you' before he offered Falcon an encouraging look. 'You will like it here.' He said.
Falcon bowed low, keeping his eyes on his shoes as Cyan left the room, closing the door quietly behind. He got up to find Pitt directly in his face.
'So, Jason, where are you from?' Pitt asked with a tight smile.
Pitt was a burly man, big on the muscular side, and while Falcon wasn't small, he was certainly smaller than Pitt, who towered over him with the figure-hugging uniform. He had his arms folded on his chest, glaring at him with a strong hatred that didn't intimidate him. He was used to people looking at him like that.
Falcon didn't answer. He wasn't answering any of these men. The purpose was to stay close to Cyan and get his hands on the package as soon as he could. Then get out of there.
Pitt scowled at his lack of response. He moved away towards a trunk at the end of the room, muttering filth under his breath as he rummaged through the items inside. He threw a shirt and pants into his direction, the same horrible green uniform, and said: 'Change.'
There was a smaller room at the back and Pitt flicked his head towards it. The room was not a bathroom, but rather a storage room with shelves lining the walls, smelling faintly of gunpowder. He realized with a start Pitt had followed him in, closing the door behind them.
'None of us saw you come in.' Pitt sneered. 'How did you manage it?'
Pitt was the head of security, Falcon realized as his eyes fell onto his badge. He had taken his break-in personally, it was a shortcoming in his ability that Falcon had been able to sneak in.
Falcon grinned. He basked in the satisfaction of Pitt's annoyed expression before he shrugged.
'Maybe you are not as thorough as you think you are.'
'What are you here for?' Pitt asked in a deadly whisper.
'This job.' He said.
Falcon took off his jacket, the familiar weight of the gun disappearing, then his shirt. The sweat on his skin gleamed under the faint light and he shrugged on the new one, facing Pitt, who was carefully observing his body, no doubt sizing him up. There was a faint smell coming off the shirt, indicating it hadn't been washed after the last person wore it.
'Is this Erik's shirt?' He asked carelessly. The shirt was incredibly tight on him, the buttons almost popping open from the strain.
Pitt scoffed. 'Yeah, soon it will be someone else's.'
'Not quite.' Falcon said. 'I am not leaving anytime soon.'
'Oh, you will.' Pitt smiled in a way that said danger was coming. 'After you are through with me.'
Falcon was on his guard in an instant. He had discarded the green pants, they would be too tight for him anyway, and tugged the shirt into his belt. He glared at Pitt, daring him to make a move. 'You are bound by Cyan's orders.' He shrugged his shoulders, his hands aching to grab his gun.
'Yes, I can't kill you. But I can break a few bones.' Pitt grinned viciously, starting towards him.
'You will regret it.' Falcon said it dead and straight like he was reciting a textbook fact.
Half of him wanted Pitt to be the first one to lay a hand on the other, while the other half didn't want to make a mess.
Pitt said nothing. He stared him up and down, in his casual assortment of clothes, hands already fisted by his side. He was doing a good job of looking scary, but Falcon wasn't afraid, he was simply bored, and extremely tired.
If only he knew who I was, he thought.
Pitt moved suddenly like a zap of lightning and Falcon saw the fist coming towards him mere seconds before he tilted sideways. The punch landed on the wall behind him followed by a dreadful splintering sound and a scream, as Pitt clasped his other hand around his fist and fell to the ground, howling like a dog.
Falcon looked at the man kneeling on the ground, his features squinted in pain. He couldn't believe Pitt had been so easy to take down, when he was expecting quite a challenge.
'See?' Falcon said softly. 'I told you, you would regret it.'
He knelt down next to Pitt and brought his mouth close to his ear. 'If you or any of your men try to touch me again, I will make sure they regret it a hundred times more than you do,' he said in a whisper.
He got up and away from him, heart racing slightly, and made for the door. None of them know what they have gotten themselves into, he thought without a feeling. He wasn't guilty, but he also didn't want to hurt more people. But, if they were intent on swinging fists towards him, next time he wouldn't hesitate to get physical too.
When he emerged back into the security room, the other three men looked at him in surprise. Surely they must have heard Pitt's cries of pain and expecting it to be his'. Maybe they were expecting him to appear with a broken nose or sprouting blood from his mouth, but he looked right as rain.
He smirked at their shocked expressions, until one of them got up from his seat and blocked his way, wiping away his smirk. He was a small man wearing glasses, but his eyes were glittering maliciously and he looked furious.
'Get out of my way, you idiot.' Falcon snapped.
'What have you done to him?' The man demanded. His voice was loud and bossy, unpleasant to his ears and adding to his annoyance level. His breath smelt of fried chicken and cigarette smoke.
'See for yourself.' He stepped out of his way, offering a clear path to the storage room.
The man glared daggers at him, and he might have dropped dead if looks could kill.
'You bastard.' He raised a hand.
'Don't.' Said a voice from the doorway. Pitt had appeared in the small opening, cradling his fist to his chest and looking like a rabid wolf.
The guard dropped his palm immediately, casting Pitt a rather horrified look. 'Nobody touches him.' Pitt said.
The silence that followed was deafening. Maybe Pitt's men were expecting a command to attack Falcon but his words had taken them by surprise.
Falcon nodded with satisfaction. He was glad Pitt had learned a lesson before any more fists would swing or squabbles would break out. The guard with the glasses got out of his way quietly, returning to his stool. When Falcon walked out of the security room with his head held high, none of the other men tried to stop him.