AN: Okay so I know this is WAY overdue, and I honestly have nothing to offer other than my apologies. I have been muse-less as of late plus my nephew 'misplaced' my flash drive, which contained the only copy of this chapter and I just couldn't seem to recreate it. Anyways, flash drive found and muse alive and kicking (hopefully). So please stick with me, we are in the final sprint towards the finish line and I'm going to try to keep from tripping up again. Anyways, thanks and, as always, please leave a review—I'm kind of a review-whore.
Sam could feel eyes on her as she slept. Even without actually seeing him in the room, she knew that Jason was watching her. "Morning."
"Morning," He greeted her and watched as she stretched and then rolled out of bed. Jason stood near the foot of the bed dressed in his usual jeans and black t-shirt, holding a steaming cup of coffee.
"Is that for me?" She nodded to the coffee. Jason handed it to her as she went into the closet to pick out her clothes for the day.
"Breakfast is almost ready." He gestured his head towards the door. "Come down when you're done."
Sam nodded and retreated to the bathroom to get ready. A few minutes later, a fully dressed Sam made her way down the stairs with an empty coffee mug. "Where's Spinelli?" she asked.
Jason pulled her chair out for her. "He's at Maxie's-some kind of crisis or another. Probably about work…or shoes."
Sam nodded and dug into her omelet. "Maybe…or she could be telling him that since Lulu and Dante are moving in together, she'll be homeless in a few weeks."
Jason shrugged-he really didn't care about the latest drama with Lulu and Dante; he only bothered himself with Maxie's troubles because they affected Spinelli as well. "I can get Marko to find her a place."
Sam nodded and took another bite of her breakfast. "It's kind of perfect timing, actually." Jason raised his eyebrow in question. "I already talked to Alex; he doesn't want to stay in my place after I move out. He said he already found another place."
"You want to offer Maxie your penthouse?"
"I want to offer Maxie and Spinelli my penthouse."
Jason put down the coffee that he was about to drink from. "You want Spinelli to move out?" he clarified. Jason hadn't really given much thought to the living arrangements for after the wedding.
"It's not like that," Sam assured him. "He's like a little brother to you and I—I don't want to kick him out—but he and Maxie are pretty serious and I think this would be a good opportunity for them as a couple."
Jason nodded thoughtfully. Spinelli-despite his appearance-was an adult. He had matured greatly while living with Jason but he was still so naïve in many aspects. "It's probably time for him to get his own place," Jason conceded.
"It's entirely up to them, Jason. I just want to give them the opportunity."
Jason looked around the penthouse. "This place has been his home for a long time but I think it's time for him to get out on his own a little bit."
Sam smiled. "I know you're going to worry about him-often-but he's a good man and no matter what, you and I will always be here for him."
Jason nodded. "I'll talk to him about it later."
"And I'll talk to Maxie. I think it'll be good—" Sam was interrupted by someone pounding on the door.
"Jason Morgan—PCPD, open up!" Dante's voice boomed through the penthouse. Jason sighed and got up to answer the door.
"Can we help you?" Jason stared at the detective blankly.
"You're wanted downtown for questioning." Dante pulled out his handcuffs and Jason turned around.
Sam moved to sit on the arm of the couch, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. "For what? Jason has been here with me since last night."
"Have Diane meet me at the station." Dante led Jason out of the penthouse.
Sam let out a frustrated sigh and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Jason was taken down to the station for questioning. He needs you to meet him there." Diane muttered something about there not being enough hours in the day and then hung up. Sam grabbed her keys from the desk and slammed the door behind her as she left.
"You had a busy night last night." Dante tried to bait his prisoner but Jason stayed mute. "I mean, blowing up three warehouses and having time to do away with both Zacharras-I'm impressed."
Diane stormed into the interrogation room. "My eyes must deceive me because I know there is no way that a fine detective such as yourself would be interrogating my client after he has already requested an attorney."
"Mr. Morgan never requested an attorney—"
"Well then allow me to do so for him. I need a moment with my client." Diane shooed the detective out of the room. "What are you being charged with?"
Jason shrugged. "We weren't that far yet."
"Alright, hypothetically, what crimes might the PCPD be charging you with today?"
"I don't know. Dante said something about killing the Zacharras and burning down their warehouses."
"So hypothetically you—"
Jason shook his head vehemently. "I was at home in bed with Sam last night. I didn't do anything-hypothetically or otherwise."
Diane nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, let's get him back in here then." She got up and waved Dante back into the room. "My client is ready to answer your questions-the relevant ones anyways."
"Alright," Dante put a picture down in front of Jason, "Do you recognize this man?"
"That's Anthony Zacharra." The man in question was face down on the ground, wearing his blue prison uniform, with a pool of blood forming around him—he was very dead.
"He was found early this morning."
Diane scoffed. "My client was at home, in bed with his fiancé."
Dante shrugged. "That doesn't mean Jason didn't order the hit."
Diane rolled her eyes. "Just how was Mr. Zacharra killed?"
"He was murdered during a prison riot that your client planned."
"That is pure conjecture. You are now blaming my client for a prison riot and a man's murder without a shred of evidence. Stick to what you can actually prove happened, detective."
Dante pulled out three more pictures and placed them in front of Jason. The pictures looked similar but were definitely different locations. Each picture seemed to catalog the burnt remains of a building somewhere near the docks. "Fine then, let's talk about the buildings you torched and the guards you shot."
"Once again, my client was at home—"
"Yeah, I got it—Sam is his alibi. You want me to believe that the murder of Anthony Zacharra and the demolition of every Zacharra warehouse in Port Charles is just a coincidence—especially considering that the Zacharra's just sank your shipment and killed three of your men. Come on Jason, you had Anthony killed and destroyed his assets in Port Charles as retaliation." Jason just started at Dante with a bored expression on his face.
Diane glared at the detective. "If you have proof that the Zacharra family is responsible for Mr. Morgan's ship being sunk and his crewmen being killed, shouldn't you have one of them in custody instead of harassing my client?"
Dante shook his head and let out a mirthless laugh. "Which brings me to my next point, Johnny Zacharra is missing."
Diane scoffed loudly. "And you believe that my client had something to do with this?"
"He is our prime suspect at this point."
"And the PCPD is sure that Mr. Zacharra is missing—not simply unavailable?" Diane asked incredulously.
Dante sighed. "We have been unable to reach Johnny in regards to his father's death and the attacks on his property."
"For what," she checked her watch, "Six hours then. Johnny Zacharra has been out of reach for all of six hours and you decide that my client is guilty of something nefarious. You can't even be sure of foul play yet—he hasn't even been missing for 48 hours."
"His warehouses were broken into, his guards were shot and his buildings were burnt to the ground. You tell me whether or not we have reason to suspect foul play."
"Unless you have evidence that my client was somehow involved, I suggest you release him now before I file a suit for unlawful detainment."
Dante shook his head. "Don't leave town." Jason and Diane got up to leave. "Morgan," Jason stopped just inside of the interrogation room. "I am going to nail you for this, I promise you." Jason returned the man's glare and walked out of the room.
"What did you do?" Sam stormed into her apartment, finding Alex sitting on the couch reading a book and nursing a glass of scotch.
"Hello to you, too," he responded wryly—Sam was not amused. Alex put down his book and stood up, "I did what needed to be done."
"They hauled Jason downtown for questioning." Alex walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
"He was always going to be the prime suspect no matter what happened to Johnny. Trust me, he'll be fine. There is no evidence that ties him to this—there's no evidence at all actually, just the aftermath."
"What did you do?" She repeated more forcefully this time.
Alex sighed and sat down heavily on the arm of the couch. "I never wanted you to see me work, kiddo. It's not a pretty business and I've done a lot of unforgivable things."
"So you killed him," Sam concluded.
Alex laughed softly. "No. It would have been easier but it wouldn't have solved anything. They way I learned it was in order to defeat someone, you had to completely destroy everything they have—their businesses, their families, their hopes and dreams. I'm pretty good at it."
"What the hell happened, Alex?"
"Well…"
Flashback:
"Comfortable?" Johnny's vision was barely coming into focus. "Don't be alarmed, but you aren't going to be able to move any part of your body. I've injected you with a paralytic—it puts the body in a sleep-like state, all of the necessary bodily processes will still happen but you won't have conscious control of anything. It's a derivative of a neurotoxin from spiders—you'll be fine in a few hours, assuming that you don't choke on your own saliva." Alex moved to check the restraints. Johnny was bound to a chair with zip ties and duct tape—not to keep him in, but to keep him sitting upright. Alex tightened the zip ties that bound the man's arms and legs to the high-backed chair. Alex had taped a travel pillow around Johnny's neck to keep his head from lolling over.
"I bet you're wondering why you're here." Alex sat down in a chair across from his captive. "Well, you have been so hell-bent on making yourself a viable threat to Jason that you keep escalating things. First it was stolen shipments and then it was burning buildings down and toying with Sonny's daughter. Now, you've resorted to sinking ships and killing Jason's men. Well congratulations, Mr. Zacharra, you are now a threat. I imagine that you were banking on Jason's respect to save you—you never thought that he'd actually make a serious move. Well you're right—Jason won't make a move against you. Unfortunately, Jason isn't going to be the one handling this particular situation." Alex stood up and moved out of Johnny's line of vision.
"You see, when you got to war with someone," Alex continued loudly so Johnny could hear him, "You end up dragging everyone else along for the ride—in this case, you're dragging my little sister along. And very unfortunately for you, I have neither the regard nor the respect for you that Jason seems to have." Johnny's eyes widened ever so slightly as realization hit him. Alex walked back over to Johnny and stood directly in front of him, at eye level.
"These are legal contracts. Once they are filed, I will be the owner of your waterfront properties and your warehouses in Port Charles. Assuming you haven't choked on your own saliva of course, once you regain the use of your limbs, you are going to sign these and return them to me. I'll leave a knife so you can cut yourself out." Anger rose in Johnny's eyes—the only part of his body that was capable of showing any expression.
"I know, I know. Right now you're thinking, 'Why in the hell would I do that?'." Alex put the papers down and focused his attention on Johnny. "The answer, in case you're wondering, is that you will have no choice. In the span of just a few hours, I am going to rid you of every single thing that you hold dear." Johnny didn't react, he stared Alex down. "I know what you're thinking—I've heard the speech—you think that you have nothing left to lose." Alex smiled sinisterly. His eyes grew cold and dark, like solid slate, and every ounce of warmth that was usually present on his face was missing—it was truly haunting. Alex stood up and walked out of Johnny's vision again. He returned a few moments later rolling a cart with a television perched on it. He turned the television on to a local channel.
"For now, you'll have to suffer through a few infomercials, but after that, the fun is going to start. When the news comes on, the top story will be the utter and complete destruction of all three of your warehouses in Port Charles. Don't worry about your employees—they'll be removed before the buildings are reduced to ashes, assuming they don't resist anyways. That story should repeat throughout the Early Show and then once you get to the Morning Show, we'll really have some fun. The main story for that hour will undoubtedly be the prison riot that is going to break out at first light. As your father is about to find out, Pentonville is a dangerous place—especially if someone paid off a prisoner to commit murder. Now I know, you don't particularly care—your father and you don't exactly see eye-to-eye and the buildings, well they can be rebuilt—but I wonder if you're going to be so cavalier when the only two things you actually have any real feelings for are removed, deliberately and painfully." Alex held up pictures of Ethan and Olivia. "Mr. Lovett, he'll probably run afoul of some former mark…I don't know, I'll make it convincing…and as for Ms. Falconeri, well as of right now she's not too fond of me but after a bit of groveling and maybe some flowers, I'm sure I'll be able to get whatever I want from her." Johnny's breathing was becoming more and more erratic.
"You should really calm your breathing down, you're going to start producing excess saliva—I wasn't kidding about choking. Now, here's what's going to happen: First, you are going to make an appearance at the PCPD and fill out a police report for the warehouses. Next, you are going to drop these papers off to me. Finally, you're going to pack everything you intend to take with you and then get on a plane for another country, never to return. Make no mistake, Mr. Zacharra, I have power and resources that you could only dream about and if you even think about taking a step in this country again, I assure you, I will follow through on every promise I've made tonight." With one last chilling look into Johnny's eyes, Alex left, leaving his captive to think about his proposal.
End of Flashback
"Did you really…" Sam couldn't quite form the words.
"Yes. I did," he stated plainly, waiting for her response.
Sam was conflicted. She understood the need for it all—Johnny was a threat that needed to be dealt with, especially with Jake's paternity coming to light—but the fact that her brother did such drastic things threw her. She knew he was capable of it, of course. Alex was a highly decorated Marine; he was a war-veteran, he knew how to fight, plus his years as an NSA Agent taught him how to effectively neutralize threats through subterfuge. That was all he'd done—neutralized a threat—but Sam balked at his tactics. Kidnapping, threatening innocent lives, arranging Anthony's murder…it was a lot to take in.
"I just…I've only ever seen you as a threat when you're defending someone."
He jumped up from his seat. "I was defending someone. I was defending you and Jake and anyone else who might have gotten caught in the middle of one of his little stunts. He may not have ever threatened you directly but he sure as hell didn't care if you got caught in the cross-fire."
Sam began pacing. "I know, I know. It just seems so…extreme."
"Sometimes extreme is the only option, kiddo."
Sam stopped short at his statement. "I know it's necessary. It's just hard to see you as anything other than my mild-mannered older brother—the one who used to lock Cody's door after he passed out so he couldn't have another go at me or who would take me away for a boating trip so I wouldn't have to play a part in one of his cons."
Alex shrugged. "It's the same principal, Sam. I just learned a few new tricks." Sam nodded slightly. "Don't you have a meeting to get to?" Alex looked at his wristwatch.
"Yeah…as long as Jason's done being questioned."
"I'm sure he will be. Diane is too good not too."
Sam nodded and moved towards the door. "You're not a bad person—you did what was necessary to protect people, nothing more." Alex gave her a half smile as she opened the door.
"Oh, sorry." Ethan put his hand down—he had just reached up to knock.
"It's fine." Alex waived him in. Ethan nodded to Sam as he moved past her. She shook her head slightly and then left with one last wave to her brother.
"Compliments of John Zacharra." Ethan handed an envelope over.
"Let's see if he can follow directions," Alex muttered as he grabbed a letter opener off the desk and sliced the package open. When he shook it, a set of legal documents fell into his hand. He read them over, checking that the signatures and dates were all there. "Okay. Let Mr. Zacharra know he and I have an accord." Alex slid the documents into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
Ethan nodded wearily. "Will do." He gave a mock salute and left as quickly as he had come.
Alex pulled his phone out and wrote out a quick text, Dinner? 8-ish? He waited a few moments before he got a response, I've nothing better to do… He chuckled and slid his phone back into his pocket before making his way out of the apartment.
AN II: Also, anyone interested in the show Castle—which is AMAZING—please check out my new story. It might take a while for new updates because I have two fics going at the same time but the idea just would not leave me alone.
K
