Prologue
July 1990
Luke Spencer sat at a table strewn with discarded peanut shells, his hands reaching for the drought of whiskey that was placed before him. His curly blond hair was pulled into a ponytail and a cap rested atop it.
"It's been too quiet." he told Robert Scorpio, who sat opposite of him.
"I know. My source tells me he'll move any day now. We have to be ready."
"If we move too quickly, we'll spook him," Luke told his good friend and partner, "We should sit back and reassess. His brother's death was days ago. The wound is fresh."
Robert and Luke were both recruited by the World Service Bureau, several years ago, jet-setting around the world and chasing international spy rings that included drug cartels involved in human trafficking. Luke Spencer had settled down in the states, making Port Charles, New York his home, while his friend, Robert Scorpio continued to play the persona of the reckless playboy, leaving a trail of broken hearts at every Mediterranean port and carrying the air of James Bond, himself.
"We can't risk The Balkan slipping through our grasp. It took two years to infiltrate the organization and gain his trust. If he gets wind of any sign of-"
"You don't think that I don't know that, Luke? I'm just as invested in taking down this bastard as you are," Robert told him, leaning closer and whispering, "Everyone is in place. He doesn't know who ordered the hit on Liam. Everything is going according to plan. All that we are waiting on is a call with the time and location."
"It seems too easy," Luke said with apprehension.
The barmaid, set another whiskey in front of him, and he smiled back at her, waiting for her to greet another patron before continuing. "If we get too cocky, he'll know. The Balkan will slither back under that rock he came out of and we will never get this close to him again."
"You listen to me, Spencer. I am taking this prick down, do you hear me? I have no intention of letting him walk. I don't care what, or who I have to go through. I'm not stopping until he's behind bars or underground. Either way, Port Charles is a safer place."
"You know how Laura feels about my days with the WSB, Robert. I told her I gave that life up when we planted roots here. If she found out-"
"Who's going to tell her?" Robert answered, as Luke looked on with trepidation. He had a bad feeling about this. One that settled down deep in his gut, turning his stomach. The sooner they put this bastard under lock and key, the better.
He felt the vibration of his new phone in his pocket, the demo-type in secret use by the government, it was thin, and weightless, not anything like the portable phone that his neighbors had. He looked down at his watch, 8pm and smiled.
"Hi, Princess," Luke Spencer said, to his little girl.
"Daddy, when are you coming home?" she asked, her voice timid and shy.
"Soon, cupcake, soon. I promise. Isn't it past your bedtime?"
"Ssh, Mama thinks that I am sleeping, Daddy."
"Oh...and why aren't you?" Luke asked, laughing softly at his precocious five year-old.
"I tried, Daddy. Really, I did, but then I saw the monster. I tried to catch it and tell it to go away, like you said, Daddy. But, he's hiding now. I can't sleep, Daddy. He could be anywhere."
"Hush, princess. We'll catch him together," he told her, in a reassuring voice, proceeding to play the game that they did every night.
"Do you have your Yankees bat ready?" he asked, as Robert grinned from the other side of the table, downing the rest of his beer. The barmaid placed another in front of him, a huge smile spreading across her face, as she listened in on the conversation.
"I have one of my own back at the hotel, if you want to come and see?" he laughed, with an Australian accent, as the barmaid shot him a sarcastic look, "The three-year old in your pants? I'll pass, but thanks," she said snidely.
"If you need anything else, sir. Anything at all, just let me know," she smiled, grinning as Luke nodded that he didn't and she continued to sashay away from the table.
"Ok, are you ready, Princess?" Luke asked his daughter.
"Ready," she answered, as he pictured her standing in her bedroom, bat in hand, eager to jump into danger at a moment's notice. She was the spitting image of her mother, Laura, but had the Spencer genes rushing through her blood. In that way, she was just like her father, a magnet for perilous situations.
"Under the bed?"
"Check. Nope, not there, Daddy."
"Beneath the blankets?"
"Check. No, not their either, Daddy."
"That leaves only one place, pumpkin. The closet!" Luke Spencer told her, inflecting his voice with a note of excitement and danger, "But, tread carefully, Princess. We don't want to scare him off."
Luke Spencer could picture his daughter, with a mop of long, blond wavy hair creeping slowly toward the closet door. Her hazel eyes would be narrowed in concentration and her hands clutched tightly to the bat.
"I'm almost there, Daddy," she whispered, reaching for the doorknob. Slowly, she turned it clockwise, pulling it toward her. She heard footsteps behind her and turned, screaming at the person that stood there.
"Princess, what's wrong? Are you all right?" Luke asked in alarm.
"Daddy, Lucky scared me!" Lulu cried, sobbing into the phone, as her older brother, pushed his way into the room.
"Gimme that, you're supposed to be in bed! Mom said so!" Lucky Spencer told her, interrupting their game, as their dog, Foster, came bounding into the room.
"Cupcake, let me talk to your brother, will you?" Luke asked her, grinning at sounds of barking and his children's sibling rivalry.
"Do I have to, Daddy? We didn't even get to finish our game."
"We'll finish it tomorrow night."
"Do you promise?"
"Fingers and toes crossed," Luke answered.
"Don't forget to blow me a kiss, Daddy," Lulu replied, giggling.
"I just did," Luke told her, blowing a mock kiss, as Robert looked on and rolled his eyes.
"I caught it, Daddy. I did. I love you, Daddy," she said handing Lucky the phone.
"Hey, you little monster," Lucky replied, as Lulu punched him playfully in the stomach and then bolted from the room. "Don't forget, Daddy. Tomorrow night."
"I won't forget. I love you, too, Princess." Luke answered, as his son, Lucky got on the phone.
"Hey, Dad."
"Cowboy, how are you? School going all right."
"I hate school, Dad. I'd rather be off chasing bad guys with you. I don't understand how math is going to help me when I work for the bureau."
"I know, son. I hated school, too. But, your Mom is right on this one. You need a good education."
"You didn't finish school, Dad? And look at you, you're like a famous spy. I want to be just like you, Dad."
"No, you don't, son. This life, it's not meant for you or Lulu. I didn't know it then, but I am damned if I am going to let you follow in my footsteps. You study, get good grades. Be a doctor and make your Mom proud. Where is your Mother? Is she home?"
"A doctor, Dad? Really? Who's fooling who? If anything, I'll be a cop, because those guys on tv are cool. Mom's not home. Aunt Ruby is babysitting. She lets us get away with anything."
"As it should be, sport. I love you. Take care of your Mom, for me, will you, and look after your sister. Pinky swear?"
"Jeez, Dad. Pinky swear? We did that when I was a kid. Anyway, yeah, I promise, Dad. Love you, too.
"Sir?" the barmaid told Luke, walking toward him, "You have a phone call," she said, pointing to the pay phone on the wall.
"I have to go, son. Remember what I said. Bye," Luke told Lucky, disconnecting the call.
He walked toward the far end of the bar, the tables empty around him. He picked up the receiver and placed it against his ear, injecting a German accent to his voice "Heinrich, speaking."
"The package will arrive, tomorrow, 12midnight. Pier 52. Don't be late, Herr Biermann." the man answered, with an Irish brogue.
Luke Spencer placed the receiver back in its cradle and turned to face his partner, "Call the boys. It's on."
Several oceans away, a man sat behind his desk, drumming his fingers atop the aged wood and contemplating his next move. He had steely eyes that could read a man the moment he met you, a gift that came in handy in his business. "Is everything in place?"
"Yes, Sir," the young man replied, standing at attention in both respect and fear. The Balkan was an international crime lord, whose business spanned continents. His control was lucrative, but cross him and it became lethal.
"He won't know what hit him."
"Good. We do this for Liam," the Balkan said emphatically, as he reached for a manila file on his desk.
"With this act, his death will be avenged."
"Go, tell the others to prepare. We move on the morrow," the Balkan told the young man, dismissing him with a slight of his hand. He pulled the file closer to him, using his left hand to open it and scanned the documents before him. The first page was a narrative, date of birth, color of hair and eyes, but the second was a photograph of a wee lass. He traced his fingers across her angelic features, her eyes the color of an amber sunset, piercing his soul. Closing the file, he reminded himself, this was for his brother, and that in the end those who had inflicted the first cut would feel the most pain.
Laura Spencer used her finger to check off the items on her list, while Lucky stood alongside her, fighting over control of the cart.
"It's my turn," Lulu shouted, pulling the cart toward her.
"It was your turn five minutes ago, cupcake!" Lucky mocked, using both his hands to pull the grocery cart back towards him.
"Mommy, Lucky is making fun of Daddy's name for me!"
"Lucky, let her drive the cart!" Laura Spencer told him, in a scolding tone.
"Fine," Lucky replied, as he released the cart, spying his little sister grinning from ear to ear.
She pulled the cart toward her, sticking her tongue out at her older brother, as she pushed the monstrous vehicle forward slamming into anything in her way. Cans rolled across the aisle and boxes of pasta and rice lay like casualties of war.
"Vvrrmm!" she said, puckering her lips to make a noise like a car's engine, "Mommy, I'm going really fast, huh!"
"Very fast, baby. Why don't you slow down, before the grocery police are alerted," Laura told her, reaching for a jar of pasta sauce from the shelf.
"It's too late, Mommy. Do you hear the sirens? I can't let them catch me. I must not lose the King of Macaroni," she said, glancing at a box of macaroni shells and continuing on, "He has the princess locked in his tower. I must rescue her."
"Isn't that the job of the Prince?" Lucky told her, in a jeering tone, as Lulu just rolled her eyes at him.
"Fairytales are for sissy's, Lucky. I'm an inna natural spy, like Daddy!" Lulu answered, gleefully.
"That's international, dufus! And besides, it won't ever happen."
"Why not?" Lulu asked, stopping her cart mid-stride and looking back at her brother.
"Because GIRLS aren't allowed to be spies," Lucky told her, shaking his head.
"Mommy, is that so?" Lulu yelled to her mother who stood five feet away.
"What, baby?" Laura questioned, while scanning the ingredients listed on a can of Italian wedding soup.
"Lucky said that I can't be a spy."
"Well, that's not true, honey. You can be anything that you want," Laura told her walking toward her, and tossing the can of soup in the cart. She mussed Lulu's hair with her hands and kissed the top of her head, "After you finish school."
"I hate school," Lulu and Lucky exclaimed in unison.
Laura just smiled, wondering how she ever got so lucky. She pushed the cart toward the checkout lane and stood patiently in line. She had two wonderful children who she loved more than life and a husband who had proved his love and devotion by giving up his dream and settling with her in Port Charles. Life didn't get any better than this. She reviewed her list once more and noticed that she had forgotten the ground beef.
"Damn," she said, as she looked over at Lulu who had covered her ears, "Mommy, you said a bad word." she whispered.
"I think that God will forgive me just this once," Laura replied, smiling at her daughter.
"I forgot the hamburger," she told her son, Lucky who stood behind her in line.
"I can get it," he told her, as Lulu started to reach for the candy bars on the shelf, "Forget it, Lulu. They'll rot your teeth."
"Lucky, watch your sister. I shouldn't be more than five minutes."
"But, Mom. I ain't no babysitter." he answered, with a scowl.
"With language like that, you're not going to be much of anything. When we get home, you and I, are going to start cracking those books of yours. Studying is important, Lucky Spencer," she said, walking away.
"You heard, Mom. I'm in charge now," Lucky told Lulu, as a group of kids his age walked into the store.
"Hey, Lucky. What's happening?"
"Hey, Carter. Not much. What brings you guys here?" he said, bashfully, eyeballing the brown-haired girl named Emily that stood near the door.
"Lucky?" Lulu said, tugging on his shirt, "Can't you see I'm talking, Lulu!" he said, moving toward his friends.
In the next aisle she could see the perfect shield for blocking monsters. It was was made of tinfoil and when decorated would be truly frightful to the monster in her room.
"Lucky? I want to go see-"
"Then go, Lulu. Jeez, I'm too old to babysit," he said, turning his back on her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her head toward the aisle, directly behind them.
Lulu Spencer stood next to the aisle with kitchen utensils, oggling a large foil pan, her mind imagining all sorts of battles against the monster in her room.
"Stay where I can see you, Lulu!" Lucky ordered, turning his back on her and grabbing an item from the cart.
"Can I help?" Emily asked, picking up items from the cart and placing them on the conveyor.
"Sure," Lucky answered, as his mother walked up behind them. She placed the ground beef on the counter, reaching for more items, as her eyes scanned the area.
"Where's your sister?"
"She's behind us, kitchen aisle" Lucky answered, his eyes looking behind him for Lulu, "She was just there. She's probably just playing another game. Lulu, come on, Mom's waiting."
"Lucky, you were supposed to watch her," Laura replied, becoming frantic, "Lulu," she shouted, running up and down the aisles.
"Lulu," Lucky hollered, receiving no answer.
"She couldn't have gotten far, Mrs. Spencer. She was here just a second ago," Emily told her, trying to reassure Lucky's mother.
Laura Spencer stopped every patron within earshot, "Have you seen a little girl with blond hair? Her name's Lulu." But, everyone shook their head, they hadn't seen her.
"Please, someone has to have seen her. You can't miss her," Laura sobbed, spinning in every direction, searching for any sign of her daughter, "Lulu! Lulu!" she yelled, collapsing to her knees.
"Mom, I'm sorry. This is my fault. I should have been watching her," Lucky cried, dropping to his knees and trying to comfort his mother.
"My baby, I want my baby!" Laura shouted, hysterically, as grocer clerks and the manager raced toward her.
All around them was caos, people searching for her daughter. She could hear the sirens in the distance, the sounds growing louder, as they came near. Then, their were men in uniforms, reaching for her, as the horror of her situation hit her. The officers lips moved, but she couldn't hear the words that passed their mouths.
Her baby was gone.
Vanished in an instant.
In the aisle behind her, a detective reached down with gloved hands and picked up a piece of paper.
"What is it?" another officer asked, as Laura Spencer looked down at the celtic cross staring back at her. Son of a bitch. He lied, Laura thought.
"Who the hell is the Balkan?" the detective asked his partner.
"I want my husband. Get me Luke Spencer. You tell him...you tell him she's gone. Our baby's gone."
Lucky wrapped his arms around his mother's waist, clinging tightly, as they both cried, her body shaking with grief.
Inside his chest he felt a great weight take hold, wrapping its tentacles around every muscle in his body. A grief so profound filled his chest, locking itself inside, where it would stay for years to come.