Catacombs
Despite it being closer to nine in the morning than six, Sadie yawned her way through her normal morning routine. Everyone had slept later than usual due to the hubbub caused by Janey's discoveries. It had led to a somewhat festive night. The liquor had been spread around more than usual. She could spot a half dozen or so lumps on the floor passed out or sleeping deeply.
Sadie arranged the layers of cardboard that she had collected over the years into an artful pile hugging the wall of her section of the tunnels. In front of the pile, she put a plastic chair with her name spray painted on it. Thus was her territory marked. Woe to any man or woman who dared disturb it. Sadie had seniority and the older tunnel residents had a tight inner circle who watched out for each other.
She heard Wilson, a middle-aged man who'd hit hard times after his divorce, coaxing Janey to awaken while pushing at Janey's unmoving form with his boot. "C'mon, Janey, we're due at the food bank. We missed breakfast."
"You're going to be early for lunch, Willie," Sadie called out.
"They'll have coffee though. That'll tie me over," answered Willie. He nudged Janey again. "Sadie, I gotta go. I'm starving. I gotta get there before it fills up. Can you wait for Janey?"
Sadie sighed. The others knew that Sadie could always count on hot meals at Kelly's so asking for this favor was no hardship. Besides, Janey was one of the inner circle. "Okay. Suits me." Sadie began to make her way further down the tunnels to Janey's normal position. "I told her not to drink too much. Whatcha gonna do, huh?"
"Thanks! I owe you one!" Willie waved at her as he walked towards the cavern entrance. A few other residents followed Willie.
"I'll remember you do! Get outta here!" called Sadie back in reply.
Hands on her hips, Sadie looked down on Janey's sleeping form. "You never touch the stuff and when you do it knocks you flat. You never learn."
Sadie's nose twitched at the odorous aftermath of the night's foolishness. Where the scents of last night pleased the nose, the smell permeating Janey's area this morning was too musky and earthy.
"Phew! Don't know how much of this I can take." Sadie bent down to gently shake her friend awake.
There was no response. Sadie peered closer. "I got a busy day planned. People to see. Places to go."
"Wake up and I'll ask Ruby for an extra sandwich for you. I promise." Losing patience, Sadie threw off the layer of blue tarp and two thick woolen sheets that served as Janey's all weather blanket.
In the dimness of the catacombs, all Sadie saw was a carpet of dark shapes undulating and shifting over Janey's still body. Then she heard the high pitched hissing and shrieking.
Sadie knew those sounds. Every catacomb dweller did. But she'd never heard it so loud or from so many in her life. She screamed.
By sheer instinct, she backed off and turned away. She didn't dare look back at Janey's probably dead body or the other unmoving forms on the floor. Heart hammering, her feet pounded hard on the packed dirt floor.
Instinct had saved early man and it would save Sadie today.
Versaille Room
The waiter placed the check on the table. Tiffany slipped her charge card into the holder.
"I'm so glad we've cleared the air between us," said Irene.
"So am I. Such a relief," added Tiffany.
"You will let me know when the feature airs, won't you?" asked Irene.
"Of course. I'll finalize the date and time when I get back to the studio. All of Port Charles will tune in I'm sure of that," said Tiffany. "Will you be helping out at Montfort once everything has been cleared up? You have a masters in business and you did a stint at the Quartermaine's investment division. You're more than qualified."
"Thank you for knowing I'm more than an empty-headed socialite. But I won't be working in the family business," said Irene.
"Why not if you don't mind me asking," said Tiffany.
Irene laughed. "With my trust fund, I don't really have to work do I?"
"I thought you were ambitious to make something of your life after the accident."
"I was but I found something better."
"Someone named Christopher?" asked Tiffany coyly.
"If I had fallen in love with a different kind of man, I suppose I would definitely have had a career before marriage. Christopher is flexible but deep down he likes traditional values. He has enough ambition for both of us. Look how he turned Repose Hill around," said Irene.
Tiffany nodded. "Yes, it was on the downward slide wasn't it?"
"Absolutely it was. I barely saw him when he started there. He worked like a … a slave," said Irene. "Now, its nationally accredited and its reputation is growing. Repose Hill will be a world-class rehabilitation and long term care facility in a few years if Christopher has his way."
"As his wife, you are an enormous asset."
"I'm there when he needs me. That's important to me. He stood by me after the accident. He had faith and trust that I could turn my life around and I did for him," said Irene.
"I just can't see you as being a housewife, Irene."
"Christopher has to focus on his professional life and I support that decision completely. I'll always have my charities and helping out my father at big events. I won't be idle at all," said Irene.
"No nannies? Not even one?"
"I won't say never to a nanny but for now I don't want one," answered Irene. "Christopher's mother was a nurse but when she had kids she stayed at home. It was hard financially as his father changed jobs frequently but he says they were the best times because of his mother. He was very close to both his parents. His work ethic is from his father."
"I see."
"I want our children to be raised the same way with the same values. We want at least two maybe four."
Tiffany smiled. "You're going to be very busy then."
"I hope so," said Irene. "I expect my children will work at Montfort when the time comes. They're Daddy's heirs. He's told me many times. I'm going to do whatever I can to ensure that my children can be the leaders that Montfort needs. Or why bother raising them?"
Tiffany laughed softly then said, "Speaking of Gregory, please tell him that Sean was just doing his job. This thing with the Board is not personal."
"I stay on the sidelines of the family business, Tiffany. It's too messy, too political for me," said Irene before taking a sip of her coffee. "The … the delay was a shock. Who could have predicted there would be an investigation? It's too outrageous to believe. After Daddy calms down, he'll be fine with everything and everyone."
"That's good to hear," said Tiffany. "I have to go to the little girl's room and powder my nose. I'll be right back." She removed her cosmetic case from her handbag and left the table.
Irene waited a full minute before slipping a miniature bottle inside Tiffany's purse. The bottle was made of clear glass shaped like a teardrop and sealed by a golden orb on top. An amber lotion seemed to glimmer from within. The bottle and its precious cargo would not have looked out of place in a haute couture salon. In fact, it looked like a fragrance very popular with professional women and socialites.
Irene pressed the bottle deep into the purse. Task done, she leaned back and finished her coffee.
Scorpio Residence
Home from school, Robin waltzed into the study. She surprised her mother.
"Mom, why are you dressed like Sadie?" asked Robin.
"This?" Anna gestured to her outfit - grubby brown cap, ratty, thin gray overcoat, faded denim overalls and muddy work boots. "It's for work obviously."
Robin perked up at the mention of PI business. "What's this one about, Mom? Embezzling. No you wouldn't be dressed like that. Fraud? Divorce? A fugitive from justice?"
Anna tied the laces of her boots. "Oh, goodness, nothing like that. I need to speak with someone but it can't be me doing the talking. Understand?"
Robin nodded her head. "A disguise." Her eyes took in more of the details in the full ensemble. "The wig is backwards, Mom."
"I'll get to that in a bit," said Anna. "How was school?"
"Boring. What else?"
"Isn't that why you have so many school activities to stave off the boredom?"
"It is but I'd rather be helping you or Dad," said Robin. "There's a career day coming up. I'm going to talk to the representative from the police academy."
"You know how we feel about our work. It's not at all glamorous," said Anna. "It's crazy work, crazy hours."
"It's what I want to do. You're not going to change my mind," insisted Robin. "I want to help people and not be bored doing it."
"Those are hardly the best reasons to be a cop or a detective," chided Anna.
"WSB agent is my first choice but the police academy wouldn't be too bad," said Robin.
The less said about the WSB the better as far as Anna was concerned. "Why not a more stable job like a nurse, a doctor or even a lawyer or an engineer. They help someone every day."
"But B-O-R-I-N-G to the max!" exclaimed Robin. "I want excitement, Mom. Why did you want to be in the WSB if not for the adventure and the action?"
"We're talking about you and not me, young lady," said Anna. Knowing her daughter's fascination with the WSB, she had to find a way to derail Robin's curiosity. "Olin's out on an errand but she'll be back soon. Get your homework done early and you can have an extra TV hour."
Exhibiting the tenacity inherited from both her parents, Robin's focus was singular. "You and Dad both worked with Uncle Sean. Since you're younger than Dad and Uncle Sean, you must have joined when you were really young." Her brows furrowed in calculation. "And you had me shortly after meeting Dad. Counting backwards from now and-"
"How young I was is unimportant, Robin. What is important is what you do with YOUR life," countered Anna. She was not liking the intense concentration on Robin's face. "I don't want you to feel any pressure to be like me or like your father. You are your own person. Always remember that."
Her rough internal calculation completed, Robin's eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, you were around nineteen! No, eighteen!"
"Wrong. I was nearly twenty and very mature for my age." As soon as the words left her mouth, Anna inwardly cringed.
"Wow, twenty!" Robin was thoughtful. "Wait a minute. A WSB candidate has to be twenty-one or over and have a degree. You were underaged with no degree. How'd you get in, Mom?"
Anna glanced at her watch. "Look at the time. I don't want to be late for my … my appointment."
Robin asked eagerly, "Did Uncle Sean recruit you because he needed someone younger for fieldwork? Was he your handler?"
"That's it no television. You've obviously been watching too much of it," said Anna just a bit unnerved by her observant and analytical daughter.
Robin shrugged. "All that stuff is in books, Mom. I read a lot you know."
"All fiction no doubt," said Anna. "What do I keep telling you? Fiction is all just pretend. You can't take it seriously."
"I know some real facts," crowed Robin. "James Bond has nothing on Dad and, Mom, based on the Gazette stuff, you could teach Mata Hari a few things."
"Girls your age should be talking about boys they like, fashion they'd die for and music idols they'd like to meet," countered Anna. "Why are you fixated on your father and me? It was ages ago. We … I don't even think of it anymore."
"I'm just curious, Mom. Why don't you and Dad not like to talk about your WSB work?" asked Robin. "It's no secret you worked for them. Everyone in town knows. And there was that stuff in the Gazette about you."
"Enough about that rag. It's all nonsense."
"If it was nonsense, why did the WSB put a gag order on the Gazette?" asked Robin. "The Gazette published a retraction of everything Cassandra wrote citing national security interests. In other words the WSB. If it was so long ago and unimportant, why keep it all a secret?"
Anna's mind went into overdrive. Like her father, Robin could be relentless in the face of resistance. She had to think of something plausible that her oh-so-logical daughter would accept. "We don't talk about our past work not because we don't want to but because we can't. We may be out of the Bureau but we're still bound to keep what we know to ourselves. The reason for that is … is this thing called the … um … National Secrets Act. It applies to everyone but especially to people like me, your father, Sean or Frisco, who don't work for them anymore. If we don't follow this rule, people would keep asking question like someone else I know. Questions that we can never answer. Do you want us to get in trouble?"
"Spilling national secrets is, um, would be treason, right?" asked Robin.
Anna said, "Something like that."
"That means you, Daddy and Uncle Sean worked on incredible, super important dangerous stuff! Double wow!" said Robin. "Frisco must have, too."
Anna wailed in exasperation, "Robin, please! We were not these bigger than life heroes that you make us out to be. We did our jobs the best we could. That's all. No more questions or you're grounded. Again."
Robin put up her hands. "Okay, okay, I get it."
Anna fixed her wig and peered at her makeup in an oval mirror. "Thank you, favorite daughter of mine."
"I'll try not to ask but it's really hard not to. Now I have more questions not less," said Robin.
"Remember what I said about the NSA." Anna smiled at the teenager. A few front teeth were blacked out. "How do I look?"
Robin grinned. "You could be Sadie's twin."
Sean Donely's Room at General Hospital
Sean heard the door opening but he didn't look up from the notes he was writing. Assuming it was his dinner being delivered a little early he mumbled his thanks.
The next thing he felt were stubby fingers wrapping tight about his neck. The notepad slid to the floor. Sean gasped for air.
"You … you traitor!" yelled a red-faced furious Gregory Montfort.