Chapter 53
December 31, 2008 General Hospital 3:30 AM
Bobbie rubbed at her tired eyes. She promised herself that this would be the last time she covered on the night shift. She had seniority didn't she? She had to stop being such a pushover. She smiled when she saw another one who really shouldn't have been on the night shift.
"Is it me or is multitasking vastly overrated?" asked Dr. Monica Quartermaine.
"You look beat. You're not on surgery rotation tonight are you?" asked Bobbie noting the dark shadows under her friend's eyes.
"No. I'm just covering for Paulsen the attending. His wife is delivering their first upstairs."
"That's wonderful!"
"Yeah, it is. It's like a signal from God that no matter what, life continues."
"How's the fundraiser for the pavilion going? You have me down as a whatever-you-need volunteer, right?"
Monica smiled. "I cannot believe how well that is going." Monica leaned close and lowered her voice. "Anna's going to ask if Katherine can attend and perform."
"As in Delafield?" whispered Bobbie.
"Yup. If she comes, I know we'll exceed our funding goal."
"Well, yeah, the tickets are going to fly out of our hands."
"I don't know if the pavilion's lobby and foyer is going to be a big enough space. Maybe we'll overflow to the auditorium." wondered Monica.
The wide emergency room doors opened. A paramedic pulled a gurney in. "Male patient found unconscious. Gunshot wound to the abdomen. Internal injuries. Blood loss severe."
"Bobbie, call ahead and prep Surgery 1. Matt! Take this one!"
Dr. Matt Hunter moved swiftly into action directing an ER team to stabilize the patient, get X-rays done and prep the patient for immediate surgery. Matt huddled with the paramedic getting more vital information.
Monica speed-dialed the PCPD to report a possible crime. The dispatcher said an officer was enroute.
###
December 31, 2008 General Hospital 6:30 AM
Heavy-footed and light-headed with fatique, Matt staggered out of Surgery 1 thinking only of getting some sleep. So tired was he that he bumped into his brother as he rounded the corner.
"Hey, bro, watch it," said Patrick.
Matt mumbled something that vaguely resembled an apology.
"Get some sleep. Remember, we're having a big family dinner tonight." Patrick called out to his fast departing brother. "We'll pick you up at seven o'clock, casual dress but nice. Presentable, copy?"
"I copy." answered Matt.
Just as Matt got off on the fourth floor on the way to the lockers, Detective Lucas "Lucky" Spencer intercepted him holding a foam cup full of what smelled like coffee.
"Just the man I want to see. Ready to make a statement regarding the man whose life you just saved?" asked Lucky physically steering a not-resisting Matt into the alcove off the nurses' hub. "Long shift?"
"Brutal, Spencer, brutal," Matt sank into the chair and accepted the offered coffee cup. "I can't even see straight right now. Make it quick."
"What was the patient's physical condition when you first examined him?"
"Male, caucasian, about 5'9, medium build, very fit," recited Matt. "Paramedics brought him in with a single gun shot wound to the abdomen, blood pressure dropping fast. Moderately distended belly indicated internal injuries to a major vein or organ. X-rays confirmed that the bullet had turned his intestines into spaghetti and hit a major artery. Got him into surgery and two and half hours later you're here bothering me."
"That's why you guys make the big bucks," cracked Lucky. "Did the patient regain consciousness at any time?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"Did you find or notice any other wounds?"
"Um, ah, his face and hands were very dirty and scratched. Some minor abrasions on his face."
"Describe minor."
"Oh, the kind you get when you're running too fast and you tip over smashing your face on the ground."
"Not something from say getting punched or beat up?"
"No, no. The scratches were superficial."
"What's his prognosis?"
"He'll live. Managed to save most of his intestines so he won't need a bag or shunt in the future."
"Notice anything else?"
Matt closed his eyes remembering. "The clothes he came in with were very dirty and wet like he'd been running in the woods."
"Where are those clothes now?"
"I don't know where they put them afterwards. One of the surgical nurses will know."
"Anything else to add?"
"Hmm, no ... yes, he's not a gangster."
"How could you tell?"
"Too fit. Dressed all in black. Had a neoprene suit under his clothes as a thermal layer. There are scars on much of his torso indicating that this wasn't the first gunshot he's had or treated. The paint was a dead giveaway."
"Paint?" asked Lucky.
"Face paint like military camouflage make up."
Lucky snorted. "Yeah, he's no gangster or a security guard."
"Guard?"
"That's what his ... employer said he was." Lucky provided. "Thank you, doc. That concludes this interview. I might have to get back to you with more questions. Is that ok?'
"Like I'm going to say no to that question." said Matt sarcastically. "Thanks for the coffee."
###
December 31, 2008 General Hospital 7:30 AM
With an evidence bag full of clothes, Lucky made his way to the patient's room. He saw district attorney Alexis Davis just leaving the room.
"Checking on your employee, Alexis?" asked Lucky.
"He's a FAMILY employee not mine." answered Alexis testily. "Do you have more questions for me, detective?"
"Not right now but I may later."
"There's no case here, Lucky."
"Please, Alexis, remember who you're talking to. I KNOW nothing is ever simple where the Cassadines are involved." said Lucky. "There is always an agenda. If it's not you, it's Helena."
"He got hurt in an accident." Alexis insisted. "That's on my statement, right?"
"Yes, ma'am." said Lucky. "While doing a security exercise."
"The guards have to be trained somehow."
"Using live ammo?"
"Keeps them attentive." Alexis countered.
"I'm sure." said Lucky snidely.
Alexis turned and began to walk towards the elevators. "Just do your job, detective."
"I plan to. I'll call you if I have any questions." Lucky called out after her.
Alexis tapped impatient nails against the elevator control panel. She had court in an hour and she hadn't prepared for it yet.
"You owe me big, Helena," she muttered under her breath. "One day I'm going to collect. With interest."
The doors swung open into the first floor lobby where a press conference was underway. Alexis used her handbag to shield her face as she walked out.
###
December 31, 2008 General Hospital 8 AM
"Good morning, Port Charles, this is Susan Quincy. We're here at General Hospital to talk about the upcoming fund raiser for the new Alan Quartermaine Pediatric Pavilion. We have with us today Dr. Monica Quartermaine, Edward Quartermaine and Mayor Floyd."
"Dr. Quartermaine, thank you very much for joining us so early after your shift, we'll keep it brief." said Susan.
Monica smiled. "I love talking about the pavilion. We're amazed at the response we've had to this."
"Mr. Quartermaine, how do you feel about this?"
"Susan, I'm so proud of this endeavour. Not only will it commemorate my son's lifelong commitment to medicine, it will provide General Hospital with a world-class pediatric facility. A facility that will serve our community for many, many years to come." said Edward.
"Mayor Floyd, your thoughts, please."
"I can only reiterate and agree wholeheartedly with Edward's words. General Hospital has always been blessed with the generosity and civic pride of our good city. As a member of the fundraising committee, I can assure you and this will be a success." said Mayor Floyd.
"When is the fundraiser to be held and where?"
Monica said. "It's to be held on Thursday, January 8th here at General Hospital."
"What would a fundraiser be without interesting events and personalities. Who can we expect to see?"
"My granddaughter Brook-Lyn Ashton will be performing." said Edward proudly. "And we are still in talks with other performers, of course."
"There will be two auctions, right, Monica?" put in the mayor.
"Yes, a dutch auction for items donated to the fundraiser and a bachelor auction."
"Oh, who have you lined up for that?" asked Susan.
"A few doctors, a detective or two, you'll have to wait and see who else." said Monica with a twinkle in her eye.
"Does that mean that our popular and very single police commissioner Malcolm Scorpio will be one of the bachelors?"
"Maybe."
"The Scorpio family has been generous with all the help they have extended to us on this matter." said Edward. "Their commitment to the public good is unquestionable."
"Well, I'll take that as a resounding yes." said Susan. "Will the newest Port Charles celebrity Dianara Amanti be attending?"
"I'm sure if Mac Scorpio is there, so will she." said Mayor Floyd with a touch of bitterness and envy in his voice.
Monica cleared her throat. "In fact, Susan, Ms. Amanti has very graciously contributed some stunning items to our auction. She has also committed to attending the event. Whether she will be with Commissioner Scorpio, well, I can't speculate on that."
"I've talked with our very own Tiffany Hill recently. She will be recording every minute of the fundraiser for broadcasting and, possibly, a commerative DVD." said Susan.
"Once again, I can only express the deepest gratitude of the Quartermaine family to all our volunteers, sponsors and attending guests. It's going to be an unforgettable night." said Monica.
###
December 31, 2008 Drake Apartment 9 AM
Robin answered the door clad in a robe with her hair dripping wet. Andrew stood in the doorway with Prospero by him.
"Remind me to get you a key." said Robin. She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Hey, Prospero, come in."
"I should have called first." said Andrew. He placed the Kevlar baby carrier on the couch and pulled out a grocery bag. Prospero lumbered in and plopped wearily on the carpet. "Have you had breakfast? I have scones and jams."
"Perfect! I just started the water boiling. Beans on the counter." Robin disappeared into the bedroom to dress.
"French press pot. Good." said Andrew spying the press pot on the counter. He ran the tap water to hot. Then he filled the press with hot tap water to warm it up as he waited for the water to boil.
To kill time, he studied the apartment. He liked all the pictures. The apartment was cozy in a straightforward, no nonsense way. He thought it was much like his sister at least on the surface. He suspected that if he dug deep enough he would find that Robin was just as complex as their mother.
He spied the diaper bag on the coffee table. He made sure it had enough supplies for the day. Despite last night's activities, Andrew had a lot of errands today. He planned on taking Emma along with him and Prospero for most of the day followed by a cruise back to the villa later on before dinner.
The water began to boil. He expertly ground the coffee, drained the tap water out of the carafe, put in three teaspoons of the just-grounded coffee and slowly poured the boiling water over the grounds.
"Do you like it strong or light?" Andrew called out.
"Strong," came the reply.
Andrew let the mixture steep for a good five minutes. Then he pressed down on the press' plunger pressing the coffee to the bottom. After the dregs had settled down, he turned the lid and poured the coffee into an empty carafe.
Robin came back dressed in scrubs. "I really appreciate this, Andrew. I know it's last minute."
"Doctors' schedules must be horrible." He laid out their coffee cups on the table and began to pour.
"Yeah. I try to get to some level of normalcy. It lasts for a few weeks then BAM! It's chaos." Robin put plates and cutlery out on the table. "I imagine your schedule is just as hectic."
"Ah, but I have minions." said Andrew. He opened the small jars of plum, apricot and strawberry preserve.
Robin laughed. "How do I get those?" Robin chose the apricot spread for her scone.
"When your new lab starts, you'll have minions whether you like it or not."
"I could get used to that."
"How do you feel about reducing your day to day patient load?" Andrew slathered on a dollop of plum jam on his scone.
"The more I think about it all the more I like the idea of pure reseach. Don't get me wrong I love helping people one on one. There's a part of me that believes I can have more of an impact doing research, raising funds and collaborating with others around the world." Robin admitted. "Patrick likes the charge he gets from seeing a patient get well. I don't think I need that ... that kind of validation."
"You're macro and Patrick's micro. You see the big, big picture. He likes and is satisfied with the local view."
"Exactly! You understand. Help me explain that to Patrick."
"I thought he supported you."
"He does. It's this undercover stuff he's not too thrilled with." Robin selected another scone. "You and I know that's it's necessary. We accept it for what it is and why. I can't get that through to him. The certainty that I have about this. That every instinct is screaming at me to do this. He freaked out when he saw my gun and ankle holster."
"Do you really expect Patrick to be able to relate at least initially? Neither one of us can say we have had a traditional upbringing. Give him time. He'll come around." said Andrew. "I've always thought that this sort of life was normal. It's amusing to see Patrick's reactions I admit."
Robin laughed. "He loves James Bond movies. Now that reality is clashing with fantasy, he's a little wobbly."
"A lot was revealed in a short time span. You didn't seem so disconcerted with it all coming out at once."
"After the initial shock, I was fine. It felt right from the first time I touched your arm. There was a connection." said Robin. "With that said, if anyone else but my parents had told me I had a sibling, I would have been skeptical, yeah."
"If I had shown up solo at your doorstep, would you have accepted me as your brother?"
"If it was you, maybe. I see enough of Mom and Dad that, after a lot of questions, I could believe you were a sibling of mine." said Robin. "You'd have to pass the mathematical birthdate test, too."
"I'm curious. Why didn't Mother and Father tell you that Mother was expecting?" asked Andrew taking another scone.
"Understandable. See, when Mom was married to Uncle Duke, she did get pregnant and then miscarried. I remember how happy she was when they told me I could look forward to a new little brother or sister. I think she and Dad wanted to be very sure before telling me. Keep the pain private I guess. It was a high risk pregnancy."
"There is so much I don't know about their early life." said Andrew.
"And there's a lot I want to know about the lost years." said Robin. "We need to compare notes and get to know my little brother."
"I have an idea. Why don't you and Patrick join me and Emma on the boat tonight. We're docked at the marina now. We'll cruise to the house. It will give us some time to talk. I think Patrick will get a charge out of the hydrofoils."
"A boat? What's a hydrofoil?"
"I think it's better experienced than explained. The Kestrel is on the last dock of the marina. What time shall we expect you?"
"A little before eight. We invited Patrick's brother, Matt, to dinner. We'll pick him up first then go to the marina. Oops, it's nearly ten. Have to go."
"We'll walk with you. Prospero needs the exercise. Let me get Emma while you finish getting ready." said Andrew.
"I dressed Emma already. Just put her snowsuit on." said Robin.
As they left the apartment, Prospero sniffed the carpeting and walls in the hallway. He let out a low deep woof. Andrew looked on curiously but didn't have time to investigate further. They left for the hospital.
###
December 31, 2008 Crimson Offices 10 AM
"Spinelli, I told you I don't have time today or the rest of the week. Find someone else to go with you." said Maxie on the phone. "Goodbye."
"You've been all over the place this week." said Lulu.
"Of course, lots to do." said Maxie. "I've decided to get serious about my career. I mean no one is going to hand me a fabulous career, right? So I have to ... to go after one. After lunch, I'm going to see Dianara's studio. Want to come?"
"No, no, no. I can barely string two words together in her presence." said Lulu.
"She's just like you and me, really."
"Yeah, right." said Lulu looking at the layout table. "Just take lots of pictures. I think we're going to be short a few pages this month. We could use a filler article."
"I forgot. I sold a five page spread for DigiMaze. Dianara will be modeling some of the products."
"You did? No one mentioned it. The more pages the better."
"Four pages for ads then a fifth for a short piece on the new store." said Maxie.
"There's graffiti all over that area. It's a gang hangout."
"Um, I think that's going to change and soon."
"Strange location to put a megastore." said Lulu.
"That's just it though it's going to be re-imagined as an entertainment complex with the Majestic on one end and DigiMaze on the other."
"I saw construction crews there this morning. I think they're even powerwashing the outside."
"It's going to be big!" exclaimed Maxie.
###
December 31, 2008 Villa Scorpio 11 AM
He could ignore the singular beam of light that shone in his face and eyes. He could ignore the ropes that bound his ankles to the stool where he sat atop of. He could blank out the incessant high-pitched whine and metallic clanging that made sleep or rest impossible. He could tolerate the gag that made speaking impossible. And he could fool his mind to ignore the discomfort of his sweat-drenched body as it sat behind a metal desk. But he could not fail to notice the shadowy figures that lurked in the dimness beyond his small halo of light.
They had made their presence known and felt since he awoke. In the hours since, these shapes had said not a word to him nor to each other. Instead, they put sheets of paper in front of him with typewritten questions: Who are you? Why are you here? Where did you come from? Do you know how long you'll be here? How uncomfortable are you? Who's paying you?
He was to write the answers on his notepad. So far, he had written nothing. Through the gag, he had laughed. He was well trained and psychological torture was nothing new to him.
Bang! A door opened. Someone stepped inside with papers in her hand. Groggily, he made out a feminine shape dressed all in black. Mirrored sunglasses hid her eyes. At a signal, the shadows left the room. He heard the padding of animal feet? Maybe he was hallucinating.
The woman stood behind him. She tilted his head backwards and dabbed his face with a clean wet towel. The gesture was unexpected and the cool towel was a balm to his fevered mind. Was it his imagination or was the whining and clanging noise finally gone?
His body tensed as a blindfold was tied around his head. His head swivelled left and right trying to pick up any sound. All he heard was the ruffling of paper.
He blinked rapidly when the blindfold was removed. The woman left the room. On the table she had left rows and columns of paper. His eyes traveled over them. They read:
"We know who you are, Charlie."
"You're a cocky SOB and proud of it, Charlie."
"Wanted by three countries, aren't you, Charlie."
"The dominoes are all down. Too bad for Charlie."
"Gambling is bad, Charlie, debts are worse."
"Sold out your partners, Charlie. Domino won't like that."
"The Mossad would love to have you, Charlie."
"D99 Rule 1: Quislings are never forgiven, Charlie."
"Charles Whysemann Miller, you are done."
Charlie began to squirm and sweat for real. How could they have identified him so quickly. Franjo? Maria? Was he the one sold out instead? How could they know about the company? The Rules?
He had his faults but he had always been a loyal man. Sure, he'd taken some unsanctioned free agent assignments like this one but he'd never gone against the company's hard rules. Never. How was he going to get out of this one? Was there even a way out?
His head snapped up. There it was the sound again - the soft heavy padding of feet. He felt a jolt behind him that knocked him hard against the table ripping the breath out of him before he crashed to the floor. He yelled out as pain shot up from his bound legs. A throbbing pain in his shoulder and back told him he'd probably dislocated a shoulder in the fall.
Then his ears were assaulted by deafening hostile barking.
The image of a livid, angry dog filled his view. It's heavy weight pressed down on his chest.
He struggled to breathe.
The light shut off leaving him in pitch darkness.
Hot urine streamed down his thighs.
The weight against his chest increased.
His chest was on fire. Was he having a heart attack?
No way out! The thought screamed in his mind as consciousness ebbed away. Charlie Miller was done.
