Necessary Evil

Chapter Ten
FF#270: Time is on my side.

There were many differences between being a doctor for the mob and working in a bustling, metropolitan hospital, and, although it had been many years since he was a respected member of the medical community, Alan Morgan was never quite able to forget those differences. Most of them, he had to admit with a wry laugh, were in favor of working in the organization. He didn't have to put up with inner-hospital politics, there was no horrendous cafeteria food, and his boss knew nothing about medicine, so he was rarely if ever questioned. But there were some things that he missed about General Hospital.

He missed the camaraderie he felt with his fellow doctors after they had worked together to save a patient on a particularly difficult case. He missed the variety of cases he had previously worked on. In the mob, he pretty much only saw one of three things: gun shot wounds, stab wounds, and broken bones caused by severe beatings. If he had not inserted himself into other several non-medical portions of the business years ago, he probably would have left from the sheer monotony of his job. But, most of all, he missed the nurses – the young, impressionable, easily wooed and attractive student nurses. After all, he was just a man, a man still young enough to have needs and desires, and those could simply not be met by going to work and fooling around in one of the supply closets. Instead, now, as a mob doctor, he had to work a little harder to find his female company, but, as he looked around his office that afternoon, he realized it was worth it.

His office was the entire first floor of the complimentary penthouse he received for working for Sonny. Built and designed to his exact instructions, it was a doctor's dream private office. With three, luxurious rooms to treat his patients in, all the latest and most expensive medical equipment, and a study that could easily rival and probably beat the chief's of General Hospital, he was a man seated in the very lap of opulence. If Alan said so himself, he felt that he was suited quite well to the comfort his employer's lifestyle provided him with, and his personal quarters, on the second floor of the penthouse, proved just that. He had it set up as an extravagant loft. Silk sheets, cashmere pillows, rich, mahogany wood – all in colors so dark, so imperial, they appeared to be of Mr. Corinthos' choosing.

It was in the center of this materialistic display of wealth that Alan sat as he waited for Max to arrive for their private meeting. The Italian guard had been watching Miss Webber for two days at that point, and his hands were practically itching for a report. He wanted to know exactly what his son's relationship was with the young woman. He wanted to know how they had met, how long they had been involved with each other, and, most importantly, just how he would be able to use her to keep Jason in line. It wasn't like his only child to slip up so badly and allow him a glance into his personal life. Jason kept himself and his emotions so guarded that Alan wasn't sure if the young man had ever had a personal relationship with a woman before. He didn't know who his son's friends were or what he did for fun. The only things he did know about Jason were the things he had been able to gleam from the tracking device he had bestowed him with, and, now that the angel was hanging so openly on the brunette's slim neck, he needed a new way to control his only offspring. He was hoping, with Max's help, to make Miss Webber his new way.

A sharp, quick, almost impatient knock at his front door alerted the medical professional of his guest's arrival. He could tell by the sound of the guard's knock that Max was nervous about their meeting. Knowing this, Alan schooled his face. He couldn't appear too eager or too desperate for information. Tricking Max into doing his dirty work for him was going to take a fine, flawless tap dance of words, innuendo, and just enough charisma and fake concern for both his young son and the even younger woman he was involved with. So, with that thought in mind, he kept his steps even and controlled, not rushing or dawdling on his way to answer the door, and, once he arrived at his entrance, he slid a perfectly smooth palm onto the handle, whisked the door open levelly, and made damn sure he had a friendly smile on his face to warm up his otherwise cool features.

"I'm glad you could make it, Max," he greeted the much larger man before him. "Please," he held the door open wider, "come in."

Always polite in his own way, the bodyguard tipped his head towards the physician and returned his easy grin. "Evening, Doc."

The two men moved silently into the apartment, both of them temporarily distracted by their own thoughts. Alan led them towards his study, taking his seat behind his grand, almost menacingly large antique desk and tipping himself back in his brown leather office chair as he observed the fidgeting twenty-something before him. It had always amazed the doctor how kind and almost sweet Max was in contrast with most of the other guards. For a boy raised in levels of near poverty, on and off the streets with no real role model or parental figure in sight, he was surprisingly well-mannered. Max's courteous nature, despite the fact that he had tried to steal from him, was the reason why Alan had brought him into the organization in the first place, and, even after being around rough, often rude men for many years now, the hefty Italian guard maintained his respectful nature. It was why he was currently in the doctor's office and not out running some menial chore, and it was also why Alan knew he had to walk a tight rope if he wanted to keep the security expert on his side and working for him in secret.

"First of all, Max," the mob doctor started smoothly, folding his hands before him. "I want to thank you for doing this for me. I know that you don't like to keep secrets, and I also know that you hate to be pitted between Sonny, Jason, and myself, but I was worried about my son. All of a sudden, there was this strange girl in my boy's life, and I had no idea who she was. If nothing else, it's my job as Jason's father to make sure that he's protected… even if it's from himself."

With those fatherly words spoken, Alan watched as the younger man across from him visibly relaxed, exhaling a harsh, pent up breath and grinning in relief. "It's good to hear you say that, Doc," Max admitted. "I wasn't quite sure why you had me watching Miss Webber, and, to be honest with you, I wasn't really comfortable with the assignment."

"Oh," he pretended to be concerned, furrowing his brow in worry. "Why's that?"

"You see, I actually know her," the bodyguard shared. Alan had not been expecting that piece of information, but he hid his astonishment easily enough from the burly man he was meeting with. "When you said you wanted me to watch someone named Elizabeth Webber, I didn't put the pieces together, because I know her as Liz. That's what everyone down at Milo's gym calls her."

"Aw, so she's friends with your younger brother?"

"Yeah," Max said, sounding proud of his kid sibling. "She was his very first customer actually. The stupid lug head was so excited when she walked into the door, he gave her a free year's membership. I told him that was no way to run a business, but he always tells me to leave the business alone, that he's the brains in our family and I'm just the brawn." The soft chuckle emitted by the guard told the older man that he found his brother's teasing to be amusing, so he simply sat back and allowed the bodyguard to ramble away, knowing he would reveal everything that he needed to know eventually.

"Anyway, so Liz and Milo are friends, and she also knows most of us guards. Not by name, of course," he reassured him, "but she'll wave hello when she sees us working out, and she's always got a smile ready for anyone who's nice to her. Not only does she run this little art supply store that she owns, but she also works the morning shifts down at The No Name, cleaning up the place and getting it ready for the dinner crowd everyday."

"She sounds like quite the enterprising young woman," Alan complimented her, knowing Max would like him to sound impressed. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to admit what he really thought – that Miss Elizabeth Webber seemed to be quite the busybody, insinuating herself into too many places in his son's life. Sure, he wanted to be able to use the brunette against his only child, but he didn't want Jason to actually go and develop feelings for the girl. That amount of a personal life would be very dangerous in his son's hands. Shaking his thoughts away, he refocused himself on the topic at hand, redirecting his conversation with the Italian so that he could find out more pertinent information. "So, is that how she knows Jason – through Milo and the gym?"

"You know, I'm not sure," Max stated indecisively. "It would make sense, but I've never seen them together there before, Milo's never mentioned anything, and, for that matter, Jason never has either."

"Well, you know my son. He's quite private."

The guard nodded his head in agreement, though the anxious scratching of his ear gave his uncertainty away. "I don't know." Shrugging his shoulder, he continued. "Jason normally goes down to the gym in the mornings, and Liz is always working then, so I really don't think that's how they met."

"Well, did you see them together at all while you were watching her?"

If Max had been edgy before, he became downright uncomfortable with Alan's last question. Finally, he hedged, "not exactly."

"That's cryptic," the physician laughed, attempting to ease the younger man's uncertainty.

"You see," the Italian clarified, never meeting his boss's unwavering gaze, "Jason was around some yesterday, but they never really saw each other. In fact, she didn't even know that he was there."

"Was he watching her as well? Did he see you following her?"

"I don't think so. If Jason would have seen me following Miss Webber, he would have said something about it, and he wasn't spying on her himself. I think he just wanted to make sure that got home from her party safely and that she got her present."

"He gave her something… a gift?"

"Yeah," Max answered with a wide, beaming smile. "Yesterday was her birthday, and Jason gave her a puppy."

Sighing and attempting to stem off his apprehension, the doctor rubbed at his temples before opening his eyes, once again, to find the guard across from him observing him carefully. "I'm going to just come right out and ask you something, okay, Max?"

"Sure, boss."

"Do you think that my son and Miss Webber are dating?"

"Well, I'm not sure," the hefty twenty-something stated without conviction. Changing his tone rapidly, he winked at the older man, "but, if he was, I'd say that he's one lucky guy. From everything that Milo has told me, I know that she's a really nice girl, Doctor Morgan. She would be good for Jason, and I think he'd be good for her. If you want me to," he offered generously, "I could ask around the other guys, see if they know anything, check with my brother, and there's this lawyer friend of hers that sometimes hangs out at the gym and watches us guards box. She seems kind of… strange but nice in her own way. She might know something."

"Thank you, Max." Standing, Alan offered his hand to the younger man, declining his offer. He wanted information on the Webber woman not gossip. "But that won't be necessary. I'm sure that Jason will come to me with any news when he's ready to, and I'm sorry if asking you to do this for me made you feel uncomfortable at all. Just know that I really appreciated that you helped me without asking any questions. Your loyalty and dedication to your job will not be forgotten, son."

The bodyguard grinned lopsidedly, blushing at the praise his boss had bestowed upon him, and, in that moment, the mob doctor knew that the very reason that Max had risen in the ranks so highly with the Corinthos organization was the very same reason he would not be able to use him to further his agenda and get more information. The Italian, in his own way, was too much of a gentleman to ever use Jason's feelings for a young woman against him or to hurt someone who was an innocent in their world.

Instead, he was going to have to find someone else to do his dirty work for him, someone who was still loyal to the organization but who had no qualms of conscious for the physician to deal with. He needed someone who would take orders without question, who wouldn't care about the father's reasons for attempting to control his son, and someone who could themselves be easily controlled. With that thought in mind, he showed Max to the door and thanked him once again for his help, albeit useless help, but the young guard didn't need to know that, before turning back into himself and his mind, thinking, searching, and scheming up a new and ultimately better plan, plan that wouldn't fail, for, in the end, too much was riding on its success, and Alan wasn't ready to give up on everything he had worked so long and hard for.

While the old Doctor Alan might have accepted defeat and moved on to the next patient, that was just one more apparent difference between his old, hospital employed self and his new, mob influenced persona. He had to admit, despite its flaws, the new one was the better one. Alan Morgan knew how to get things done himself; Alan Quartermaine simply allowed others to get things done for him. That's why Alan Quartermaine was a fool, but no one could or would say that about Alan Morgan.

No, he certainly was nobody's fool - not some young girl's, not his son's, and not even his own.