Chapter Two, Forever In a Day:

The black Mercedes raced speedily down the roadway. The driver, frantic and angered with one of the occupants, did not see the black Porsche following them steadily. Milo Giambetti tried to focus on driving to Sonny's safe house in the woods half a mile outside of Port Charles but the explosion at the warehouse kept replaying in his mind. Was Sonny alive? What about his other men – his friends – were they dead, too? Even at the thought of his friends and his boss being dead or at the very least trapped underneath a collapsing building, he was very thankful his brother was not.

Currently, his brother Max was in the back seat guarding the tiny woman they found running from the building before it exploded. The brown-haired woman seemed oddly calm for a woman with a gun pointed in her side and Milo hoped, for her sake, she was not the one who planted the bombs. He hoped for her sake that she wasn't an operative for the Zacchara family.

Cordelia sat composed in the back seat. The driver – Milo – and his partner – Max – were the polar opposite. Frenzy, nervousness, and anger dictated their every action. They were so consumed with the explosion at the cannery that they didn't check her for weapons, tracking devices, earpieces or anything else. She would normally chalk that type of oversight up to anger. The behemoth next to her clearly showed his anger by shoving his weapon in her side every few seconds. He hadn't asked her a single question since they've been in the car or even bound her hands. Those were not simple mistakes made in anger. They were the kind of mistakes one made in fear. These men were afraid and she could almost smell it on them and she would use it to her advantage if needed.

All of a sudden, Milo swerved violently to miss an oncoming car and Cordelia caught sight of her Porsche in the rear view mirror. She smirked a bit. Rex has been dying to drive that car, practically begging her every time they hit a new town for the chance to see how fast she could go.

Rex must have known she was thinking of him because he chose that moment to speak to her. Or perhaps he could hear Milo yelling into his cell phone and Max yelling to Milo through her hidden microphone and figured they wouldn't be able to hear his voice.

"Cordi, I've notified the guys. They're all on high alert; especially John. He's about three miles out and can have a chopper in the sky and towards you in thirty seconds. You say the word and we'll make these mob boys wish they'd never gotten out of bed this morning."

Cordelia wanted to laugh but was unable to by Max shoving his weapon in her side once again. His complexion had taken on a rosy tint and he was sweating. He stared at the pretty brunette, who seemed no worse for the wear, and grew more irate when she didn't even acknowledge him or the gun in her side. Cordelia could see him out the corner of her eyes and saw that he looked ready to pounce on her. His nostrils flared with every exaggerated breath, his eyes were narrowed slits but still conveyed the fear he was trying desperately to mask as anger.

"You better pray that Sonny survives that explosion," Max told her, his voice shaking with every word. "Or you'll wish you never set foot in Port Charles."

Finally, the behemoth said something she could use. It was time to get some answers. Instead of remaining quiet, Cordelia chose that moment to respond.

"If I wanted Sonny dead," she began, her voice even and controlled. Making it a point to speak the names clearly so Rex could hear them. "He would be." She drove the last point home by turning to face Max.

His brown eyes flared in anger and, for a moment, Cordelia almost expected him to hit her. He did not, but instead took her statement as an admission of guilt. "How much did the Zacchara pay you to bomb the warehouse?" he asked but didn't wait for her to answer, probably figuring she wouldn't. "They can't help you now. They've just brought a war down on themselves."

Turning her head so that she was no longer facing him, "I don't work for the Zaccharas. And even if I did, they'd be the least of your worries," she threatened him subtly. Positive that Rex had gotten the names they kept mentioning, Cordelia decided to remain silent again until they reached their destination. Whoever these men were, they clearly were underlings and were taking her to meet someone else. Someone who possibly had more answers. She would just have to bide her time.

Max didn't know what to say after that and anything he would have said would have probably been ignored. That would have only made him even angrier and at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to hurt this woman. He never in his life contemplated hurting a woman, not even Faith Roscoe, but dealing with Faith was easy compared to the woman who sat quietly next to him. With Faith, you knew what buttons to push to get a reaction. This woman was a mystery.

He had Milo pull over to the side of the road once they reached the marker just outside the city Rex not too far behind but still unnoticed. He held the gun on her and instructed her to turn away from him and place her hands behind her back. She did and Milo handed him the handcuffs that Max promptly bound her with. He then placed a blindfold across her eyes and tied it very tightly. Cordelia deduced that they were taking her to a secret location and didn't want her to know the way in case she were to escape or they set her free. Whatever the case, she didn't dwell too much on it, as it was not important. Max turned her and shoved her back against the seat. Even though she'd been bound, he kept the gun in her side. With her sight taken away, her other senses heightened and she could feel his hand shake slightly with the gun. She could smell the fear dripping off him and, oddly, that calmed her while forcing her to remember a time not long passed.

Cordelia's screams filled the room. Her body convulsed violently when the pain was at its worst and slowed to a shiver when it subsided. Sweat poured from her, covering her caramel skin in a glossy film. Tears poured from green eyes to drip down her sunken-in cheeks. The white tank top they provided her with dripped with moisture and clung tightly to her malnourished body. Her fingers gripped the edge of the chair she sat in so tightly her knuckles looked white.

The doctor was talking to her but she couldn't make out what he was saying. The only sounds she could hear was the electric crackle of the pad attached to her skin and her screams. Her eyelids shut tightly in pain and the images before them were worse than anything she could imagine. Dead bodies were lying on a floor; and blood was pouring from wounds tainting the air. She could almost smell it.

She was back in the moment that changed her life. Back in the moment that would haunt her forever.

She wanted it to stop. To cry out and beg the doctor to stop torturing her, but the words would not come. Her tongue simply would not cooperate. For this was the penance for her sins.

Finally, the pain stopped. Her back hit the chair with excessive force before she slumped forward, gasping for air. The contents of her stomach erupted from her with violent force onto the floor and one of the soldiers cleaned it up promptly.

The doctor moved in front of her once the spot was clean and somehow managed to make his portly body stoop low enough for him to see her face. She could not see him with her eyes still closed but she could smell his obnoxious scent and it made her stomach churn.

"You're still blocking, Cordelia." The scent of his breath hit her nose and it made her want to vomit. "You have to go beyond the surface."

"I don't know anything," she said through gritted teeth. Finally opening her eyes, she raised her head just a bit to pin him with a lethal gaze. She could smell his fear. They had finally succeeded in turning her into an animal.

"Yes, you do," he told her, slightly uncomfortable with the look she was giving him and trying to mask it. "You were held captive for more than a month by six insurgents. They raped you..." his voice was beginning to sound distorted in her ears. "... beat you... you were sleep deprived for days on in... hardly ate."

Her eyes grew cloudy but no less lethal. Rex noticed this and his concerns grew. He had a hard enough time watching the way the doctor treated her before they started, but watching her body wracked with pain and now hearing the doctor remind her of her torturous ordeal was more than he could take.

"Stop this," he said softly. "She's had enough. Look at her. Look what you've done to her."

The doctor didn't even spare Rex a glance. "She can take much more. You and I both know that." He sounded angry and frightened as well.

"It's inhumane what you're doing to her. She's not a prisoner here."

That did get the doctor to look at him. He stood erect but did not move from in front of her. "Look at her," the doctor, commanded of Rex. "She's barely 130 pounds right now and can take pure electrical shock to her core." He looked at Rex indignantly. "There are soldiers three times her size on this base that can't do that."

Rex looked at Cordelia. She was leaning slumped over and her breathing was ragged. She had let go of the edge of the chair and her knuckles regained their coloring. For the first time, Rex felt as though he was actually seeing her. He had seen her around the compound but was never permitted to speak with her. He would always remember the way she looked when they found her on the road. Covered in bloodstained clothes, shivering from the cold, frail and fatigued. He admired her then. Admired her for her survival instincts and that has not changed.

He moved around the doctor to stand at her side. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he silently wished he could take her pain away.

"She's not a soldier or a weapon. She is a woman. And she's been through enough," Rex said calmly. "How can you do this to her? You're a doctor, for goodness' sake!"

"I'm an American first!" The doctor was irate. "We're fighting a losing war in a hostile country! Many young soldiers just like you are killed every single day in this country to keep terrorism at bay. Many Americans in this country are being taken hostage and held as bargaining chips, just as she has, to be used against the American government. Many of them don't make it home. She will. She – a woman as you said - one woman took down six armed Iraqi soldiers at less than 130 pounds. One woman killed five civilian hostages in a fit of rage and walked away the only survivor." The doctor's eyes began to twinkle with something akin to madness. "Don't you want to know how?" he asked Rex seriously, his facial expression contorting from one of anger to sheer astonishment. "Don't you want to know the secrets locked in her brain that could produce such events? This is more than the mere will to survive. It has to be." He looked down at Cordelia but it was as if he was looking through her. He touched her head softly. "The answer...it's locked in here somewhere and I intend to find out what it is. Even if I have to kill her to do it."

The doctor stepped from in front of her to head back to the machine. Rex started to speak, to defend her, but before he could, Cordelia has risen quickly from the chair headed for the doctor. She reached him in barely a second and snapped his neck. The sound of his spinal cord cracking lasted a mere second and his body fell lifelessly to the ground.

Soldiers filled the room quickly all weaponry drawn and aimed at her. Rex tried to calm them but Cordelia simply stood in the middle of the floor. Her face held a blank expression and her green eyes seemed focused on something that wasn't present in the room with her. Rex wasn't sure what would happen next and he dreaded finding out.

"Stand down," a commanding voice said from the open doorway. The man walked inside, his eyes never swaying from Cordelia. Rex recognized him as the commanding officer of that base - a General. A no-nonsense general who was more concerned with the survival of American soldiers than the civilians on this base. "Everyone except Corporal Balsom, please leave."

The men filed out of the room reluctantly.

"Sir," Rex tried speaking out of turn. "She snapped. She..."

"Quiet," the general, said, not ever taking his eyes off the tiny woman. He placed his hands her bare shoulder. "Delia?" he whispered. "Delia, its Dad."

Rex suppressed his shocked surprise at finding out that his CO had a daughter. Let alone one who had been captured. He was pleasantly surprised when Cordelia responded.

"Dad?"

The general relaxed a bit and pulled her into an embrace. "Yes, my baby," he soothed her.

Cordelia didn't cling to him the way he wanted but made no move to break free of him. She sensed someone was still in the room with her and turned slightly to see Rex. Her eyes also caught sight of the body on the floor. She didn't need to ask if that was her doing... she already knew the answer.

The general called someone into the room and asked them to escort his daughter to his quarters and make sure she ate something and received some much-needed rest. He kissed her forehead and let her go, telling her that he would be along shortly.

Rex drove like a mad man trying to keep up with the black Mercedes that held his best friend. Not an easy task since the other driver drove like a mad man as well, and because Rex had to remain unseen. He had no doubt that Cordelia knew he was following. He would always come for her. Always save her, no matter whom he had to save her from. He made that promise long ago.

Once Cordelia and the uniformed soldier were out of earshot, the general addressed Rex.

"What happened here..."

"He was killing her, Sir," Rex answered, foolishly thinking it was a question. "He was a sick bastard who was using her as some kind of experiment."

The general remained quiet for a long moment. Rex was unsure what to make of that but watched as the general moved to look closely at the doctor's body. "Fool," he said softly.

"Sir?"

"I told him not to get too close to her. I told him to push her, to find her limit, but not to get close. To always keep a man between them."

For the second time, Rex had to hide his surprised shock. "You... you knew what he was doing to your own daughter?"

The general stood up then walked back to face Rex. "We're at war here, Balsom. Certain... sacrifices have to be made for the good of all."

Rex didn't hide his disgust. "Even your own daughter?"

"Doctor Reardon wouldn't have killed her. He just wanted to get answers that we need." A small smile came to his aging face. "He was the best psychotherapist in the world and... well... you see."

"You didn't see what that monster did to her; or what she went through to give you your answers... Sir." The last word exaggerated in disgust.

"I can see that you care for my daughter and I'm glad. She's going to need someone to look after her when she returns to the States. I know that your service and deployment is over soon and I would like you to do just that. I would consider it a personal favor."

Rex didn't know whether to hit the general or run from him. He seemed to be just as mad as the doctor was. Truthfully, he wanted to do both. How could a man let his daughter go through such an excruciating ordeal? He thought about Cordelia and all she has gone through and he could not imagine abandoning her.

"What's your answer, son?"

"I'll do it," he answered resolutely. "But not for you. Not even for myself. I'm doing it for her. She's lost enough already."

The general smirk then nodded sagely. He turned to leave but tossed Rex a look over his shoulder. "You cut me off before I could finish. What happened here today... is to never be mentioned again to anyone." he finished and strolled out of the room. Leaving Rex alone in a room, with a dead man, that even though was still, sounded of screams.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The car stopped along the gravel driveway. Cordelia heard the driver's side door open and close, then the patter of steps along gravel. The door closest to her opened and someone pulled her from the seat. She counted five steps from the car to the door of wherever they were. Wherever they brought her was not what she expected. It did not feel cold at all.

They walked her a bit; maneuvering her around what she guessed was furniture. The whole place smelled clean and woodsy. They sat her in a chair and bound her legs to the chair's legs. Then, they removed the handcuffs from her hands behind her back only to cuff them once more in the front. Finally, they left her alone still blindfolded.

It was no more than ten minutes later when she heard movement in the room. Someone was close to her but she didn't call out. She didn't show any fear or concern at all.

Someone unzipped her jacket and pulled it down and off her roughly. She thought the worst for just a second before feeling her shirtsleeve pushed up and something cold and wet touching her skin. Then, something small and sharp punctured her skin.

Someone was drugging her.

Whatever drugs they pumped into her system worked fast. In less than a minute, she felt groggy and disoriented. Her mind wandered in the darkness while waiting for whatever else was to come.

Cordelia sat in her seat on the plane anxiously. She was going home today after a year in this country. Three months ago she was a prisoner of insurgents and wasn't sure if she'd make it out alive. Two months ago, she'd been rescued by American soldiers but treated for her trauma in the worst way possible.

She had done things that she wished she could take back. Things that, she knew, would haunt her for the rest of her days. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax, as she grew more anxious. She wanted nothing more than to go home and see her family.

"Is this seat taken?" she heard and opened her eyes to see Rex standing there.

Cordelia smiled automatically. Shaking her head, "No," she answered softly.

She watched him as he stored his bag in the overhead compartment before sitting next to her. He gave her a smile that warmed her heart. "We've never been properly introduced," he said. "I'm Rex Balsom." He extended his hand and she shook it gently with a smile.

"Cordelia Roberts."

"Very nice to meet you, Cordelia Roberts," he replied with a sweet smile whilst still holding her hand. He was pleased to see that she relaxed. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. "So," he began, still holding her hand. "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?" she asked, well aware of his flirting but thankful nonetheless.

"Everything."

"Why?" she questioned him with a furrowed brow.

"Because I think you and I could be very good friends," he answered honestly. "Don't you think so?"

She looked him over for a long while as if trying to decide. She remembered how she took care of her in the jeep when his convoy rescued her and how she tried to stop the doctor from using her as a lab rat. How friendly he'd been toward her after what she'd done to the doctor.

Somewhere deep inside, Cordelia felt she could trust him. He didn't have to do any of the nice things he's done for her, didn't have to reach out to her at all... but he did. When others would run, he stayed.

"Yes," she answered finally. "I think we could become very good friends, too."