DISCLAIMER: One Life to Live is the property of ABC; no copyright infringement is intended.
x
x
x
Malcolm Baker said, "You're sure, Mr. Manning? This is what you really want?" After a minute or so, he said, "Okay, okay. Doesn't matter to me, one way or the other. You're the boss."
He closed his cell phone and glowered at his bound captive. "We're taking another little trip, Delgado."
Probably not-so-little, if it's like the others, Tomas Delgado thought wearily. Todd Manning's henchmen had been moving him every few days, taking overly elaborate precautions against being tracked by...someone. Apparently John McBain.
Tomas was grateful for McBain's having given them cause to think he was on to them. But he didn't seriously expect help from that quarter. By now he had no idea what country he was in.
Remembering those long stretches on planes - during which he'd been bound, gagged, and blindfolded - he realized he couldn't even be sure of the continent.
He didn't know how this was going to end. But he'd almost stopped caring. I brought it on myself, when I spared Todd's life all those years ago...
He'd believed, at the time, that his unit was still part of the CIA. That he was serving his country. And yes, the CIA did sometimes have to order assassinations. The agents who carried them out viewed them as comparable to killings in war. Except that soldiers never had to worry about reprisals against their families. We did have to think of that, and I'd made the sacrifice of cutting my ties with everyone I loved.
He'd been shocked when he was ordered to kill a fellow American. He'd taken it to mean that Todd Manning was a traitor, conspiring with enemies of the U.S. In fact, Manning had refused to aid The Director's rogue outfit in an enterprise he'd recognized as criminal. But Tomas had no way of knowing that.
He'd found Manning in bad shape, beaten and left for dead. He'd guessed Manning had somehow crossed the terrorists or would-be terrorists he'd been dealing with. And he'd thought that if the CIA showed mercy and nursed him back to health, he might be won over to their side. Which was, after all, his own country's side! So he'd risked rebuke - or worse - by going against his orders and delivering Manning, alive, to his superiors.
He hadn't known Manning was The Director's son; he'd never heard her name. And he couldn't have imagined, in his worst nightmares, that she'd have her son held prisoner and tortured for eight years.
But now, Todd had become a psychopath as beyond redemption as his mother. He'd proved it when he consigned Tomas to this living hell, and had Baker force him to tell Blair he - not Todd - had killed Todd's brother Victor.
Yes, Tomas had planned to have Victor abducted, if he couldn't persuade him to leave Llanview on his own. But that was only because he knew Victor had been brainwashed, and feared that made him a threat to Tea. I wouldn't have let anyone mistreat him. I would have turned to the contacts I still have in the CIA - found ways to learn how bad the brainwashing was, maybe counteract it. No way would I have harmed the man my sister loved!
Todd, on the other hand, had gunned his twin down in cold blood.
Tomas no longer cared what happened to him. But whenever he thought of Todd bedding the woman he loved - Blair - he wanted to puke.
Every so often he made a ruckus, tried furiously to get free. But he was always beaten into submission.
I wonder if Todd could keep this up if he was actually here, seeing what they're doing to me? Villainy from a distance, clean hands...maybe he will let it go on till I'm old and gray.
x
x
x
This trip didn't involve planes. Nevertheless, Tomas gave up trying to estimate its length after what he guessed was ten hours.
He'd been bound hand and foot, gagged, and blindfolded the whole time.
He thought the vehicle Baker was driving was an SUV. Listening for and counting voices, he'd determined there were three other men in it. Taking turns behind the wheel, probably meaning to get all the sleep they needed in the car. Easy for them; they weren't physically uncomfortable. Their conversation - what little there was - told him nothing.
They got out now and then to relieve themselves, and to buy food and drink - which they consumed, noisily, in the car. None for him, of course.
They had to know the aromas, and the loud munching and guzzling, were driving him nuts.
Now he tried to let the goons know he had certain...physical needs.
They ignored him.
With the predictable consequences.
It didn't matter. He wished he could sleep - or simply pass out. But the constant jostling over bumpy roads, and his restraints, made that impossible.
So he tried to think about Blair.
Blair...
He'd first seen her in that wedding photo of her and Todd. He hadn't bought it in a flea market. He'd taken it from Todd's wallet when he found him, barely alive, in a cemetery crypt. He had no guilt feelings about that: Todd had been so battered that he'd needed to examine the contents of the wallet to confirm his identity. His artist's eye had been captivated by the radiance of Todd's bride. And he'd known that recent marriage - not the couple's first - had already ended in divorce. He'd felt sure Todd had deceived or betrayed the trusting woman. And by so doing, he had - as Tomas saw it - forfeited all his rights where she was concerned.
In those days, Tomas hadn't dared have a real, flesh-and-blood lover in his life. The risk to her would have been too great. So, like a fool, he'd fallen half in love with the woman in the photo. Painted her portrait, and mooned over that. Like the guy in the movie Laura, who falls in love with a portrait of a woman who's supposedly dead, but turns out to be alive.
Of course, he'd always known Blair Cramer-sometimes-Manning was alive.
I hope that bastard Todd can be trusted to keep her that way. Has he ever really appreciated her?
He'd eventually thought This way lies madness, so he'd sold the portrait. He'd regretted the sale a day later, mourned its loss. Tried unsuccessfully to get it back.
And then, incredibly, the real woman had knocked on his door...
He'd been in love with her ever since. And he knew that mysterious chemistry between them had worked both ways.
But now she thinks I killed Victor. Even if I can get away from these animals, I may have lost her forever. To the real killer! Why the hell would she believe me over a man she's known for decades, the father of her children?
x
x
x
His head ached.
I have to stop thinking about Blair and Todd.
But if he didn't think about them, he couldn't help thinking about Tea and Victor.
When he'd been assigned to kill Todd Manning, he hadn't known his adored little sister was Todd's ex-wife. The break he'd made with his family was that complete.
Later, he'd learned who and what The Director really was: Irene Manning, an international criminal. A source of worry to the CIA, because she was using techniques - methods of brainwashing, and of outright torture - that she'd learned from them. They didn't dare take her down. She'd convinced them she had proof of their past misdeeds, and her accomplices would go public with it if she was imprisoned or harmed.
Knowing that, Tomas had found it alarming that "Todd Manning" was back in Llanview, sporting a new face - and, it seemed, covertly working with Irene. Tomas wasn't sure whether this "Todd" was an impostor, or the man he'd delivered to her, thoroughly brainwashed. But he inclined to the latter explanation. The plastic-surgery makeover made sense, in the twisted reality they inhabited. The enemy who'd had Todd beaten almost to death was an egomaniacal preacher named Mitch Laurence, and Todd had made himself a double for Laurence's brother, so he could get close to Laurence and take his revenge. Tomas could believe that. So, given the extreme riskiness of Irene's using an impostor who wouldn't have Todd Manning's DNA, he'd guessed this was the brainwashed original.
He'd been horrified when he came to the U.S. to "drop in" on Blair - and found his sister Tea married to "Todd"!
He'd still thought - though he couldn't be sure - that the man was the brainwashed original rather than an impostor. But either way, the people close to him were in danger.
When Tomas had thrown an already-disrupted movie premiere into total chaos by proclaiming "That man is not Todd Manning!", what he'd meant was that the man had been so altered by brainwashing that he was no longer his true self. No longer the person he'd once been, and his loved ones thought he still was.
Tomas had been the most surprised person in the theater when, in response to his saying "That man is not Todd Manning!", another man had stepped out of the shadows and said, "I am."
After that, everything had gone downhill.
Tea had continued to love the man everyone began calling "Victor."
Tomas had made no secret of his disapproval.
And now Victor was dead, his far-worse brother lording it over Llanview. Claiming Victor's fortune, his children, everything but his wife.
Does Tea believe the confession they forced me to make? If John McBain was really suspicious, is there a chance he passed his suspicions on to her?
I may never see any of the people I knew in Llanview again. And if I don't...
If I don't...
For however long Todd keeps me alive, the worst torment will be thinking of Blair and Tea hating me. Believing I killed Victor, then went on to deceive them for months, and finally just ran away.
He realized he was crying. At least he was managing to do it quietly.
But crying behind a blindfold was damned uncomfortable.
x
x
x
He'd been tied up so long he could no longer feel his hands and feet.
Perhaps that was a good thing. Every other part of his body ached like hell.
Don't think about Blair. Don't think about Tea.
But then, of course, he thought about another person he might never see again. The one who'd now be convinced his worst suspicions had been on the mark.
Baz.
The reason Tomas hadn't requested DNA testing, when Yvette presented him with that "sudden son," was that he'd known for a fact Baz couldn't be his. He hadn't had sex with Yvette, with or without protection, during the time period when the child could have been conceived. Even allowing for premature birth, or its opposite.
Yvette had known that. She'd just wanted to get the troublesome teen off her hands. She'd figured Tomas's life was no longer danger-ridden. (Hah. Was she ever wrong about that!) And she'd known he wouldn't hurt Baz by making an issue of it. Not much was being asked of him, anyway.
Maybe, given time, we could have bonded through our love of music. Our tastes - and talents - were so different that at first, neither of us could accept that the other was a musician. But we were making progress.
Till he began thinking I was a murderer...
Baz had been old enough that legally, he could come and go as he chose. To Tomas's regret, he'd flown the coop after getting Starr entangled in a bad recording contract. Starr, unlike Baz, couldn't just drop out of sight; she had a child to raise, a boyfriend, and an extended family that she cared about.
If I hadn't been caught up in investigating Victor's murder...if I'd had time to be more of a mentor, even if not a real "father"...I could have prevented that mess. Baz was a naive kid. Both he and Starr deserved better. Deserved the guidance I should have been giving them.
Damn Todd Manning!
Now he began to regret he'd thought of music.
What if Todd tells his goons, at some point, to smash my fingers? So I'll never be able to play the piano again? Never be able to paint again?
Even if he doesn't think of that, will I ever see a piano again? Or an artist's canvas?
Will I ever see anything again?
He'd been blindfolded so long he wasn't sure he could still distinguish - as he could at first - day from night.
Don't panic. Don't!
Maybe I should go back to thinking about Blair...
x
x
x
He was desperately hungry - and above all, thirsty.
Think about Blair think about Blair think about Blair...
x
x
x
He felt nauseous. And he was sweating profusely, though he couldn't understand where the moisture in his body was coming from.
He thought he was going to puke. Knew he was going to puke. And with a gag stuffed in his mouth, that meant he was going to choke.
But how could he puke, when there was nothing to come up? When he hadn't eaten for days?
Do not moan. I command you, do not moan!
Think about Blair think about Blair think about Blair...
Blair Blair Blair Blair Blair Blair...
x
x
x
It was night.
Malcolm Baker's SUV came to a smooth stop, and he killed the headlights.
A few lights glimmered...somewhere. Otherwise, the car was in near-pitch darkness.
Baker and his three henchmen got out. Stretched. Lit cigarettes and relaxed.
Then they hauled their prisoner out of the back seat. Bound hand and foot, gagged, and - even now - blindfolded, he still struggled. Managed a two-footed kick that caught one of the men in the groin.
Not Baker.
Baker said calmly, "End of the road, Delgado."
They picked him up, hoisted him...and gave a mighty heave.
There was a sickening splash.