Show: General Hospital
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 28
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thanks a lot for your comments; you know I love them all. I'm glad to see you're
enjoying the story still and you all make my day a little brighter when I see them in my
mailbox. Fanfiction.net, despite its vast improvements in text is not uploading symbols,
which I use for my scene breaks so I hope you didn't get too confused. I tried to upload sooner by my computer was playing around. Sorry. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.
-------------------------------
PH4
-------------------------------
Alexis felt his presence behind her and leaned back into his warmth. "You've been
remarkably patient," she said softly. She sensed rather than saw Sonny smile.
The two were paused on the threshold outside Michael's old room watching Zico sleep.
His coal black hair was tousled about his forehead and he finally seemed to have settled
down. It was about one in the morning but Alexis had been awake for a while. She and
Sonny had just settled down for the night around eleven-thirty when the screams began.
Alexis had thrown her robe on and in a flash had made her way down the hall; she'd
rocked him through his tears until he'd eventually settled down. When she thought he'd
calmed sufficiently, he'd whimpered and asked her softly to stay with him till he fell
asleep. Looking down into his beautiful amber eyes, Alexis felt her heart breaking. How
could one child be so haunted? Had she looked like this when she'd been his age? No
doubt she'd been scared; she'd just seen Helena Cassidine slit her mother's throat before
her eyes and been placed in the Cassidine hellhole by a sudden burst of paternal duty
from Mikkos.
From the way her gaze was riveted on the little boy, Sonny deduced what his fiancée was
thinking. They'd both had terrible childhoods – he'd never want the same for any child.
He totally understood Alexis's attachment to this child; his attachment as well.
"He's sleeping now. Come back to bed," he coaxed softly.
Alexis shook her head slowly. "What if he wakes back up?"
Sonny's eyes drifted over to the sleeping boy. "Tell you what, querida, if he wakes up
again, he can sleep with us, ok?"
Alexis could feel impending tears burning her nose and she turned into Sonny's arms and
laid her head on his shoulder. "You've should've heard what he said, Sonny…. This little
boy's been through hell and it's only just the beginning."
"Ssshhh," Sonny comforted, his arms tightening about her. "He has you and me and
Jason – his guardian angels. We won't let anything happen to him."
Alexis looked up, her brown eyes filled with conviction. "No, we won't." She would
protect this child as if her life depended on it.
----------------------------
Earlier that evening
----------------------------
Much to her chagrin, the lassitude of their lovemaking had virtually knocked Elizabeth
out. After dozing himself, Jason tenderly lifted her into his arms and carried her up to his
bedroom. He laid her between the sheets and she didn't even stir when he gently kissed
her cheek and left the room.
Padding downstairs, he picked up his T-shirt from the ground, pausing as the bone-
softening memories of what had transpired earlier in the chair barreled through him.
Jason shrugged into the shirt and left the Penthouse, loping across the hall towards PH4.
Johnny nodded in acknowledgement, knocked twice and opened the door. Sonny was
perched on the couch, Scotch in hand as he sifted through a sheaf of papers. Whatever
delectable concoction he'd whipped up for dinner lingered in the air and Jason's stomach
tugged in reaction – in their haste to return to the Harborview, they'd forgotten all about
dinner. Hopefully the guards had left enough for them to rustle up something.
"How'd it go?" Sonny asked, looking up and catching sight of his friend and partner.
Before they'd captured Roland, he'd immediately called back Sonny to let him know
what was up. It was by no mere coincidence that Sonny had come back home soon after
Alexis had brought back the boy and had not left. He'd neglected to tell Alexis, not
wanting her to worry. Of course, now Sonny would want to know all about it after having
gone through with the charade all afternoon.
"He's a grunt. Doesn't know anything."
"Nothing?"
Jason methodically went through what little Roland had told them, both musing about
who this Marietta Kincaid was. None of them had ever heard of her and more than likely
the name was an alias. But whose alias? Her interest in Zico was before the murders, but
could she have had something to do with them as well?
Sonny asked that question.
"I don't think so. Truthfully, they let a five year-old boy escape them, I don't think they
have the brains to pull off something this intricate. I sent Adam and a few others to check out the place, but it was empty. They're waiting around to see if any of them come back. We'll grab them if they do."
Sonny nodded and took another deep sip of his drink. Just then, they heard footsteps
padding downstairs and both men looked up to see Alexis clear the last step.
"Jason," she greeted, settling next to Sonny on the chair.
"Alexis," he acknowledged in reply. "How did the interview go?" he asked the question
that had plagued him all day.
Quietly, Alexis summarized what had occurred in the interrogation, trying, and failing
miserably, to dispassionately relate what Zico had revealed. She got up from her seat next
to Sonny, partially to hide impending tears and to take up her briefcase from the
sideboard. "This is a copy of the sketch the artist drew. Ric already gave a copy to Benny
and they'll be mass-circulated tomorrow."
Jason accepted the photo from her, staring at it intently. He'd never seen the man before
in his life. He passed the photo to Sonny. "You ever seen him?" he asked his partner.
Sonny frowned as he too scrutinized the photo. "Never. We obviously should," he
continued dryly, no trace of humour in his tone as he stared at the uncanny likeness of the
man who was trying to undermine their operation. He turned piercing eyes to his fiancée.
"You know what this means, don't you?"
Alexis arched a brow, although she had a pretty good idea as to what he was getting at.
"I want you out of the country… at least till this is over."
"And when will that be, Sonny?" asked Alexis, foolishly feeling her temper rising – it
always did whenever someone tried to dictate her life, which Sonny did and would
continue to do on a regular basis.
Jason found himself drawing back, wanting to give the couple their privacy to hash out
the argument which, in his mind, had a foregone conclusion. He'd known that, if Zico
had somehow identified a suspect, their lives would be in even bigger danger and they
would deal with it as they'd always done – hide the women and children. He was also
gearing himself up for his own confrontation with Elizabeth.
He tuned out their rising voices and physically distanced himself from them, his mind
sorting through a mental dossier, scrolling through to see if there was any trace of this
man. Just then, his cellphone rang, piercing the ongoing battle of wills between the older
couple. "Morgan," he stated, stepping out into the warm night air on the balcony.
He could hear heavy breathing on the other line but still the person said nothing. "Who is
this?" he inquired, Borg-like, his voice dripping with ice.
"Jason, it's me… Courtney…."
A shocked breath left Jason's body, but he rallied quickly. "Hey," he replied. "Is
everything alright?"
Courtney's next breath was tremulous but she dared not let her mind mistake his tone for
something other than his typical concern. "I need to speak with you. I-i-it's important.
Can you meet me at the loft in about half an hour?"
Without even waiting for him to reply, she ended the call, leaving a very baffled Jason
staring at his cellphone wondering what could be so important that she needed to speak to
him at, he quickly glanced at his watch, ten-thirty. Frowning slightly, he stepped back
into the apartment. "Listen, I gotta go take care of something."
Sonny waved him off, obviously more intent on pointing out the obvious to Alexis. The
argument was like a dance between those two; Jason doubted they'd really noticed he
was gone.
----------------------
----------------------
A witness! A goddamned fucking witness!
After Officer Cross' announcement and further explanation, Delano's reaction had been
swift. He'd dismissed the eight other men, with their instructions and pulled Yates, Cross
and Lyle aside. To say he had chewed Yates out was mild – he'd ended up backslapping
the vet across the face, hard enough to draw blood. Lyle had swallowed inwardly,
knowing the slightest infraction now could set Delano off with violent consequences.
"How the fuck could you let this happen, Yates! You don't leave witnesses!" he ranted.
His fists clenched and he was inching to slam them into the older man's face. Yates,
recognising his fury as well, stepped back, cupping a grizzly hand against his split lip. "I
don't pay you to fuck up! Not when we've got so much riding on this!" Delano turned to
Cross, his black eyes blazing. "Who is it? Does Corinthos know?"
Cross revealed what little he had seen and Delano pinched his brow, feeling one hell of a
headache coming on. He grit his teeth and stepped away from the men, not trusting
himself to be within striking distance of any of them, especially Yates, who he ached to
beat to a pulp. "Did you recognize the boy?" he asked Cross.
"No. I'd never seen him before."
Delano turned thoughtful, his brain scrutinizing each detail that they knew and tried to
logically sort through it all. "Whoever he is, Corinthos is probably going to make him
disappear…" he mused.
"Corinthos?" asked Lyle.
"You don't think he's gonna entrust the life of the witness to the man who's offing his
employees to the likes of the PCPD, do you?" Delano spat impatiently. "Listen," he
began again, pointing a finger in the crooked cop's direction, "I want you to find out
whatever you can about this kid. And you," he turned a withering glance towards Yates,
"get out of PC. If I so much as see your face before this thing is over, I'll save Corinthos
the trouble and kill you myself."
Now, two hours later, Delano was musing about his last words towards Yates. Given
more time to stew, his mind had actually gleaned a means of getting the hawk-like
scrutiny of the Corinthos-Morgan operation from turning in their direction. He picked up
the telephone and dialed a now-familiar number.
"Destang," came a gruff voice after two rings.
"It's me," Delano replied. His instructions were simple: "Do it."
Bruno Destang terminated the call and glanced up at the dilapidated building. Edward
Yates had outlived his usefulness….
Delano Taggliatti was a busy man that night. The call to Bruno Destang wasn't the only
one that he made that night. After he set the phone back on the cradle he sat at the small
desk in his room in the Port Charles Hotel, his mind trying to find the means of defusing
this already volatile situation with Corinthos and Morgan.
After working so well in the beginning, his once well thought out plan was now falling
apart at the seams. Spread out before him were various photos of those with connections
with the powerful duo – dock-workers on the job; Corinthos' secretary, Denise; the
guards Johnny, Max, Francis, and a few other unidentifiable goons; and, of course, his
family, the gorgeous fiancée and legal-eagle Alexis Davis, the two daughters Kristina, the
kid his brother had unwisely kidnapped and her older sister, the beautiful Elizabeth
Imogene Corinthos. Delano clenched his jaw and ran a finger along the classic curve of
Liz's cheek. It was a photo taken outside her apartment in New York City, with the guard
Francis Goodson lurking in the background.
Delano bypassed the photograph and moved on, sifting through photos of the brother and
fellow mouthpiece Ricardo Lansing-Corinthos, the harangue ex-wife Caroline Spencer-
Corinthos (Delano grinned as he thought of how the tenacious blonde clung to her
husband's surname although their divorce was final in a few months) and the redheaded
kid, Michael. One of the last photos in the pile was that of the sister, Courtney Matthews.
Delano picked up the picture and studied it thoughtfully, thinking back to the
conversation he'd had with Lyle not too long ago. His photographers had confirmed that
the two had broken up and that Morgan had moved back in with his ex-girlfriend, none
other than Elizabeth Corinthos herself. Bruno, who was not only an efficient
'housekeeper' but an excellent photographer as well, was shadowing her and had hinted
that she had been distancing herself from the rest of the clan.
Just how big of a distance, Delano wondered.
He also wondered if his decision to kill Yates had been too hasty. He glanced at his watch
– it was almost ten minutes since he'd made the call. By now, Yates had surely breathed
his last and it was too late to do anything else. But he could deal with how the body was
discovered… or not. His initial plan had been for Yates to be found dead in a very public
place. Corinthos would have had to deal with the pressure of getting himself out from
under the microscope of a very suspicious and single-minded Port Charles Police
Department, while collectively breathing a sigh of relief because someone had taken care
of the problem for them, giving Delano the opportunity to strike when it would most hurt.
Now, he'd just make it seem that Yates had stepped up the game. The 'accountant'
Benny had been next on his radar, but now, his devious mind would not allow his eyes to
look away from the photo of the blonde, who vaguely reminded him of a life-sized Barbie
doll. He could practically feel the noose tightening about his neck and he knew it was
only a matter of time before someone connected Yates's face to the former Taggliatti's
operation. He'd already put more men on the Harborview Towers watch, but there was
only so close as you could get in that building. The blonde was the key to the initial
stages of truly crippling the Corinthos-Morgan operation.
He dialed that familiar number once more. "Destang."
"Yes?" Bruno was now currently unscrewing the barrel of the silencer of his gun. In the
flashes of neon light outside, Yates's prone body could be seen, slumped at the man's
feet.
"There's been a change of plans. Bring Yates to me," he paused, as if still considering his
actions. "I want Corinthos' sister."
"When?"
"Let the good people of Port Charles read about it at breakfast…."
------
Loft
------
Courtney had handled Dr. Meadows's news well. She'd helped Penny close up early after
the last customer left around a quarter to ten smiled at her friend as they parted ways in
the small car lot. On the short drive home, her hands had mechanically reached for her
carphone and, before she'd even realized what she was doing, her fingers had dialed
Jason's cellphone number.
After mentally browbeating herself over what she'd just done after putting down the
phone, Courtney drove the rest of the way home slowly, before she pulled into her spot in
front of the building about fifteen minutes later. She sat in the dark of her car in the
shadows, mentally preparing herself for the confrontation, trying not to harbour any
foolish expectations that Jason would have a sudden sense of duty and pledge his life to
her and their unborn child. She couldn't help but wonder, what would their child look
like? Would he or she have her platinum or Jason's dirty-blonde tresses? Would he or she
have eyes the colour of the cerulean sky or of an icy glacier? Would he or she be talkative
and bubbly like their mother or thoughtful and brooding like their father?
So many questions; she didn't think she had the heart to sift through the answers, not
when she had already set the ball rolling. She knew she couldn't hold back or come up
with some silly excuse; the moment he turned those probing blue eyes in her direction,
she'd more than likely fold and tell him the truth.
Resigned to her fate, Courtney left the car and made her way up the stairs to the loft-
apartment she had shared in much happier times with Jason. Sighing heavily, Courtney
let herself into the dark apartment and locked the door behind her. Accustomed to
navigating her way through the dark apartment, she left the lights off as she shrugged off
her denim jacket and hung it and her bag on the coat rack beside the door. As she stepped
away from the door heading towards the small kitchen, the tiny hairs on the back of her
neck stood on end. Abruptly, Courtney halted, some sixth sense imparting that she was
not alone.
Cursing as her breathing started to roughen, Courtney's eyes swept through the darkness.
They still hadn't adjusted to the dark as yet and she was too far away from a light-switch.
Her instincts goaded her to call out to the darkness but she halted herself, remembering
what Jason had told her – never give yourself away to the enemy.
It was too late, she couldn't help but think. She was practically defenseless in the dark.
Courtney held her breath, trying not to cry, not being able to see the enemy yet knowing
it was there. Mentally she prepared herself for a fight… Seconds too late.
The wire snapped around her neck, instantly beginning to shut off her air supply.
Courtney hadn't even heard him come up behind her. Her startled and terrified scream
ended on a squawk and her eyes bulged as her hands immediately came around her neck
to try to dislodge the sharp wire that was not only choking her but slicing the delicate
skin of her throat.
Her body slammed back into a hard muscular form and she could hear steady breathing
close to her ear. That incensed Courtney – the man was trying to suffocate her and
probably had not so much as even broken a sweat. She had so much to fight for – she
wasn't going to make it easy for the fucker.
Adrenaline started to juice through her veins. She lifted herself off her feet, throwing the
man behind her off balance. She swayed, her legs splaying in the dark air, slamming into
the little knickknacks and even a lamp, making one helluva ruckus. She kicked back, her
heeled boots making savage contact with his shin and then his instep.
The only consolation was the man's breathing started to escalate as he tried to keep
control of the situation – obviously, he hadn't been expecting Courtney to fight back.
His grip on the wire did not let up, however.
Courtney could feel her grip on life waning, and hot tears of terror and anger started
sluicing down her cheeks. Why now? She had to fight, had to fight for her baby. But she
couldn't…. Even as she continued to struggle with the man, she could see stars in front
her eyes and she could imagine her face turning blue. She still tried to pull the wire from
around her neck – it wasn't working; in fact, the sharp wire had begun to draw blood,
further accounting for her light-headedness.
By this time, Jason was making his way up the stairs to the loft when he heard the crash
of something breaking against the floor. Knowing Courtney lived alone on this floor,
anxiety immediately flooded his body and he bounded the last few yards to the door.
"Courtney!" he called frantically, as the crashing of objects continued. "Courtney!" he
called again, throwing his shoulders into the solid oak door, hoping unrealistically that it
would give under his weight.
Jason! Courtney's heart soared, even as its rate plummeted further. She was fighting a
losing battle. Finally, she felt a knee placed in the small of her back and Destang lifted
her and snapped the wire back with all his strength, desperate now to end her life before
Morgan burst in and ended his. In an instant, Courtney was rendered immobile, her legs
thrashing in midair as the wire snapped through the skin, savagely assaulting the already
bruised windpipe.
Within mere seconds, Destang had snuffed out her life and the life of her unborn baby….
Breathing heavily, Destang cast the body away from him, feeling like a trapped animal.
Outside, Jason heard a thud then he could hear nothing more and, fearing the worst, whipped out his gun and
fired three shots in rapid succession to the lock he'd installed himself. In the apartment,
Destang mentally composed himself, slipping his own gun from its holster, knowing he
would have only a few precious seconds to act. Morgan would be cautious on entering,
but he had cut the lights and it would take a few seconds for his eyesight to adjust to the
darkness.
Anxious to save the woman he'd fancied himself in love with for more than a year, Jason
burst into the room, gun in hand. Truthfully, he'd been expecting the darkness, not the
sick cloying fear that threatened to smother him. It was his last coherent thought before
Destang materialized from the shadows behind him and savagely slammed the butt of his
gun to the back of Jason's head, and everything went black as his body heavily hit the
floor next to Courtney's.
TBC…
A/N: I apologise to anyone who was offended by the violence in this chapter. I hope you
don't think me too heartless after this chapter considering Courtney's condition. I toyed
with the idea of letting Courtney live because of her pregnancy but, honestly, I didn't
want her in the way. I know there are countless other ways I could have had her exit but it
just didn't fit in with the type of story I want to write. This will obviously have
repercussions throughout the end of this installment in the series and plays a major role in
the next part of the series: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' III: Sins of the Father (tentative
title). Please leave me a line or two, even if it is to give me a verbal ass kicking.
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 28
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thanks a lot for your comments; you know I love them all. I'm glad to see you're
enjoying the story still and you all make my day a little brighter when I see them in my
mailbox. Fanfiction.net, despite its vast improvements in text is not uploading symbols,
which I use for my scene breaks so I hope you didn't get too confused. I tried to upload sooner by my computer was playing around. Sorry. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.
-------------------------------
PH4
-------------------------------
Alexis felt his presence behind her and leaned back into his warmth. "You've been
remarkably patient," she said softly. She sensed rather than saw Sonny smile.
The two were paused on the threshold outside Michael's old room watching Zico sleep.
His coal black hair was tousled about his forehead and he finally seemed to have settled
down. It was about one in the morning but Alexis had been awake for a while. She and
Sonny had just settled down for the night around eleven-thirty when the screams began.
Alexis had thrown her robe on and in a flash had made her way down the hall; she'd
rocked him through his tears until he'd eventually settled down. When she thought he'd
calmed sufficiently, he'd whimpered and asked her softly to stay with him till he fell
asleep. Looking down into his beautiful amber eyes, Alexis felt her heart breaking. How
could one child be so haunted? Had she looked like this when she'd been his age? No
doubt she'd been scared; she'd just seen Helena Cassidine slit her mother's throat before
her eyes and been placed in the Cassidine hellhole by a sudden burst of paternal duty
from Mikkos.
From the way her gaze was riveted on the little boy, Sonny deduced what his fiancée was
thinking. They'd both had terrible childhoods – he'd never want the same for any child.
He totally understood Alexis's attachment to this child; his attachment as well.
"He's sleeping now. Come back to bed," he coaxed softly.
Alexis shook her head slowly. "What if he wakes back up?"
Sonny's eyes drifted over to the sleeping boy. "Tell you what, querida, if he wakes up
again, he can sleep with us, ok?"
Alexis could feel impending tears burning her nose and she turned into Sonny's arms and
laid her head on his shoulder. "You've should've heard what he said, Sonny…. This little
boy's been through hell and it's only just the beginning."
"Ssshhh," Sonny comforted, his arms tightening about her. "He has you and me and
Jason – his guardian angels. We won't let anything happen to him."
Alexis looked up, her brown eyes filled with conviction. "No, we won't." She would
protect this child as if her life depended on it.
----------------------------
Earlier that evening
----------------------------
Much to her chagrin, the lassitude of their lovemaking had virtually knocked Elizabeth
out. After dozing himself, Jason tenderly lifted her into his arms and carried her up to his
bedroom. He laid her between the sheets and she didn't even stir when he gently kissed
her cheek and left the room.
Padding downstairs, he picked up his T-shirt from the ground, pausing as the bone-
softening memories of what had transpired earlier in the chair barreled through him.
Jason shrugged into the shirt and left the Penthouse, loping across the hall towards PH4.
Johnny nodded in acknowledgement, knocked twice and opened the door. Sonny was
perched on the couch, Scotch in hand as he sifted through a sheaf of papers. Whatever
delectable concoction he'd whipped up for dinner lingered in the air and Jason's stomach
tugged in reaction – in their haste to return to the Harborview, they'd forgotten all about
dinner. Hopefully the guards had left enough for them to rustle up something.
"How'd it go?" Sonny asked, looking up and catching sight of his friend and partner.
Before they'd captured Roland, he'd immediately called back Sonny to let him know
what was up. It was by no mere coincidence that Sonny had come back home soon after
Alexis had brought back the boy and had not left. He'd neglected to tell Alexis, not
wanting her to worry. Of course, now Sonny would want to know all about it after having
gone through with the charade all afternoon.
"He's a grunt. Doesn't know anything."
"Nothing?"
Jason methodically went through what little Roland had told them, both musing about
who this Marietta Kincaid was. None of them had ever heard of her and more than likely
the name was an alias. But whose alias? Her interest in Zico was before the murders, but
could she have had something to do with them as well?
Sonny asked that question.
"I don't think so. Truthfully, they let a five year-old boy escape them, I don't think they
have the brains to pull off something this intricate. I sent Adam and a few others to check out the place, but it was empty. They're waiting around to see if any of them come back. We'll grab them if they do."
Sonny nodded and took another deep sip of his drink. Just then, they heard footsteps
padding downstairs and both men looked up to see Alexis clear the last step.
"Jason," she greeted, settling next to Sonny on the chair.
"Alexis," he acknowledged in reply. "How did the interview go?" he asked the question
that had plagued him all day.
Quietly, Alexis summarized what had occurred in the interrogation, trying, and failing
miserably, to dispassionately relate what Zico had revealed. She got up from her seat next
to Sonny, partially to hide impending tears and to take up her briefcase from the
sideboard. "This is a copy of the sketch the artist drew. Ric already gave a copy to Benny
and they'll be mass-circulated tomorrow."
Jason accepted the photo from her, staring at it intently. He'd never seen the man before
in his life. He passed the photo to Sonny. "You ever seen him?" he asked his partner.
Sonny frowned as he too scrutinized the photo. "Never. We obviously should," he
continued dryly, no trace of humour in his tone as he stared at the uncanny likeness of the
man who was trying to undermine their operation. He turned piercing eyes to his fiancée.
"You know what this means, don't you?"
Alexis arched a brow, although she had a pretty good idea as to what he was getting at.
"I want you out of the country… at least till this is over."
"And when will that be, Sonny?" asked Alexis, foolishly feeling her temper rising – it
always did whenever someone tried to dictate her life, which Sonny did and would
continue to do on a regular basis.
Jason found himself drawing back, wanting to give the couple their privacy to hash out
the argument which, in his mind, had a foregone conclusion. He'd known that, if Zico
had somehow identified a suspect, their lives would be in even bigger danger and they
would deal with it as they'd always done – hide the women and children. He was also
gearing himself up for his own confrontation with Elizabeth.
He tuned out their rising voices and physically distanced himself from them, his mind
sorting through a mental dossier, scrolling through to see if there was any trace of this
man. Just then, his cellphone rang, piercing the ongoing battle of wills between the older
couple. "Morgan," he stated, stepping out into the warm night air on the balcony.
He could hear heavy breathing on the other line but still the person said nothing. "Who is
this?" he inquired, Borg-like, his voice dripping with ice.
"Jason, it's me… Courtney…."
A shocked breath left Jason's body, but he rallied quickly. "Hey," he replied. "Is
everything alright?"
Courtney's next breath was tremulous but she dared not let her mind mistake his tone for
something other than his typical concern. "I need to speak with you. I-i-it's important.
Can you meet me at the loft in about half an hour?"
Without even waiting for him to reply, she ended the call, leaving a very baffled Jason
staring at his cellphone wondering what could be so important that she needed to speak to
him at, he quickly glanced at his watch, ten-thirty. Frowning slightly, he stepped back
into the apartment. "Listen, I gotta go take care of something."
Sonny waved him off, obviously more intent on pointing out the obvious to Alexis. The
argument was like a dance between those two; Jason doubted they'd really noticed he
was gone.
----------------------
----------------------
A witness! A goddamned fucking witness!
After Officer Cross' announcement and further explanation, Delano's reaction had been
swift. He'd dismissed the eight other men, with their instructions and pulled Yates, Cross
and Lyle aside. To say he had chewed Yates out was mild – he'd ended up backslapping
the vet across the face, hard enough to draw blood. Lyle had swallowed inwardly,
knowing the slightest infraction now could set Delano off with violent consequences.
"How the fuck could you let this happen, Yates! You don't leave witnesses!" he ranted.
His fists clenched and he was inching to slam them into the older man's face. Yates,
recognising his fury as well, stepped back, cupping a grizzly hand against his split lip. "I
don't pay you to fuck up! Not when we've got so much riding on this!" Delano turned to
Cross, his black eyes blazing. "Who is it? Does Corinthos know?"
Cross revealed what little he had seen and Delano pinched his brow, feeling one hell of a
headache coming on. He grit his teeth and stepped away from the men, not trusting
himself to be within striking distance of any of them, especially Yates, who he ached to
beat to a pulp. "Did you recognize the boy?" he asked Cross.
"No. I'd never seen him before."
Delano turned thoughtful, his brain scrutinizing each detail that they knew and tried to
logically sort through it all. "Whoever he is, Corinthos is probably going to make him
disappear…" he mused.
"Corinthos?" asked Lyle.
"You don't think he's gonna entrust the life of the witness to the man who's offing his
employees to the likes of the PCPD, do you?" Delano spat impatiently. "Listen," he
began again, pointing a finger in the crooked cop's direction, "I want you to find out
whatever you can about this kid. And you," he turned a withering glance towards Yates,
"get out of PC. If I so much as see your face before this thing is over, I'll save Corinthos
the trouble and kill you myself."
Now, two hours later, Delano was musing about his last words towards Yates. Given
more time to stew, his mind had actually gleaned a means of getting the hawk-like
scrutiny of the Corinthos-Morgan operation from turning in their direction. He picked up
the telephone and dialed a now-familiar number.
"Destang," came a gruff voice after two rings.
"It's me," Delano replied. His instructions were simple: "Do it."
Bruno Destang terminated the call and glanced up at the dilapidated building. Edward
Yates had outlived his usefulness….
Delano Taggliatti was a busy man that night. The call to Bruno Destang wasn't the only
one that he made that night. After he set the phone back on the cradle he sat at the small
desk in his room in the Port Charles Hotel, his mind trying to find the means of defusing
this already volatile situation with Corinthos and Morgan.
After working so well in the beginning, his once well thought out plan was now falling
apart at the seams. Spread out before him were various photos of those with connections
with the powerful duo – dock-workers on the job; Corinthos' secretary, Denise; the
guards Johnny, Max, Francis, and a few other unidentifiable goons; and, of course, his
family, the gorgeous fiancée and legal-eagle Alexis Davis, the two daughters Kristina, the
kid his brother had unwisely kidnapped and her older sister, the beautiful Elizabeth
Imogene Corinthos. Delano clenched his jaw and ran a finger along the classic curve of
Liz's cheek. It was a photo taken outside her apartment in New York City, with the guard
Francis Goodson lurking in the background.
Delano bypassed the photograph and moved on, sifting through photos of the brother and
fellow mouthpiece Ricardo Lansing-Corinthos, the harangue ex-wife Caroline Spencer-
Corinthos (Delano grinned as he thought of how the tenacious blonde clung to her
husband's surname although their divorce was final in a few months) and the redheaded
kid, Michael. One of the last photos in the pile was that of the sister, Courtney Matthews.
Delano picked up the picture and studied it thoughtfully, thinking back to the
conversation he'd had with Lyle not too long ago. His photographers had confirmed that
the two had broken up and that Morgan had moved back in with his ex-girlfriend, none
other than Elizabeth Corinthos herself. Bruno, who was not only an efficient
'housekeeper' but an excellent photographer as well, was shadowing her and had hinted
that she had been distancing herself from the rest of the clan.
Just how big of a distance, Delano wondered.
He also wondered if his decision to kill Yates had been too hasty. He glanced at his watch
– it was almost ten minutes since he'd made the call. By now, Yates had surely breathed
his last and it was too late to do anything else. But he could deal with how the body was
discovered… or not. His initial plan had been for Yates to be found dead in a very public
place. Corinthos would have had to deal with the pressure of getting himself out from
under the microscope of a very suspicious and single-minded Port Charles Police
Department, while collectively breathing a sigh of relief because someone had taken care
of the problem for them, giving Delano the opportunity to strike when it would most hurt.
Now, he'd just make it seem that Yates had stepped up the game. The 'accountant'
Benny had been next on his radar, but now, his devious mind would not allow his eyes to
look away from the photo of the blonde, who vaguely reminded him of a life-sized Barbie
doll. He could practically feel the noose tightening about his neck and he knew it was
only a matter of time before someone connected Yates's face to the former Taggliatti's
operation. He'd already put more men on the Harborview Towers watch, but there was
only so close as you could get in that building. The blonde was the key to the initial
stages of truly crippling the Corinthos-Morgan operation.
He dialed that familiar number once more. "Destang."
"Yes?" Bruno was now currently unscrewing the barrel of the silencer of his gun. In the
flashes of neon light outside, Yates's prone body could be seen, slumped at the man's
feet.
"There's been a change of plans. Bring Yates to me," he paused, as if still considering his
actions. "I want Corinthos' sister."
"When?"
"Let the good people of Port Charles read about it at breakfast…."
------
Loft
------
Courtney had handled Dr. Meadows's news well. She'd helped Penny close up early after
the last customer left around a quarter to ten smiled at her friend as they parted ways in
the small car lot. On the short drive home, her hands had mechanically reached for her
carphone and, before she'd even realized what she was doing, her fingers had dialed
Jason's cellphone number.
After mentally browbeating herself over what she'd just done after putting down the
phone, Courtney drove the rest of the way home slowly, before she pulled into her spot in
front of the building about fifteen minutes later. She sat in the dark of her car in the
shadows, mentally preparing herself for the confrontation, trying not to harbour any
foolish expectations that Jason would have a sudden sense of duty and pledge his life to
her and their unborn child. She couldn't help but wonder, what would their child look
like? Would he or she have her platinum or Jason's dirty-blonde tresses? Would he or she
have eyes the colour of the cerulean sky or of an icy glacier? Would he or she be talkative
and bubbly like their mother or thoughtful and brooding like their father?
So many questions; she didn't think she had the heart to sift through the answers, not
when she had already set the ball rolling. She knew she couldn't hold back or come up
with some silly excuse; the moment he turned those probing blue eyes in her direction,
she'd more than likely fold and tell him the truth.
Resigned to her fate, Courtney left the car and made her way up the stairs to the loft-
apartment she had shared in much happier times with Jason. Sighing heavily, Courtney
let herself into the dark apartment and locked the door behind her. Accustomed to
navigating her way through the dark apartment, she left the lights off as she shrugged off
her denim jacket and hung it and her bag on the coat rack beside the door. As she stepped
away from the door heading towards the small kitchen, the tiny hairs on the back of her
neck stood on end. Abruptly, Courtney halted, some sixth sense imparting that she was
not alone.
Cursing as her breathing started to roughen, Courtney's eyes swept through the darkness.
They still hadn't adjusted to the dark as yet and she was too far away from a light-switch.
Her instincts goaded her to call out to the darkness but she halted herself, remembering
what Jason had told her – never give yourself away to the enemy.
It was too late, she couldn't help but think. She was practically defenseless in the dark.
Courtney held her breath, trying not to cry, not being able to see the enemy yet knowing
it was there. Mentally she prepared herself for a fight… Seconds too late.
The wire snapped around her neck, instantly beginning to shut off her air supply.
Courtney hadn't even heard him come up behind her. Her startled and terrified scream
ended on a squawk and her eyes bulged as her hands immediately came around her neck
to try to dislodge the sharp wire that was not only choking her but slicing the delicate
skin of her throat.
Her body slammed back into a hard muscular form and she could hear steady breathing
close to her ear. That incensed Courtney – the man was trying to suffocate her and
probably had not so much as even broken a sweat. She had so much to fight for – she
wasn't going to make it easy for the fucker.
Adrenaline started to juice through her veins. She lifted herself off her feet, throwing the
man behind her off balance. She swayed, her legs splaying in the dark air, slamming into
the little knickknacks and even a lamp, making one helluva ruckus. She kicked back, her
heeled boots making savage contact with his shin and then his instep.
The only consolation was the man's breathing started to escalate as he tried to keep
control of the situation – obviously, he hadn't been expecting Courtney to fight back.
His grip on the wire did not let up, however.
Courtney could feel her grip on life waning, and hot tears of terror and anger started
sluicing down her cheeks. Why now? She had to fight, had to fight for her baby. But she
couldn't…. Even as she continued to struggle with the man, she could see stars in front
her eyes and she could imagine her face turning blue. She still tried to pull the wire from
around her neck – it wasn't working; in fact, the sharp wire had begun to draw blood,
further accounting for her light-headedness.
By this time, Jason was making his way up the stairs to the loft when he heard the crash
of something breaking against the floor. Knowing Courtney lived alone on this floor,
anxiety immediately flooded his body and he bounded the last few yards to the door.
"Courtney!" he called frantically, as the crashing of objects continued. "Courtney!" he
called again, throwing his shoulders into the solid oak door, hoping unrealistically that it
would give under his weight.
Jason! Courtney's heart soared, even as its rate plummeted further. She was fighting a
losing battle. Finally, she felt a knee placed in the small of her back and Destang lifted
her and snapped the wire back with all his strength, desperate now to end her life before
Morgan burst in and ended his. In an instant, Courtney was rendered immobile, her legs
thrashing in midair as the wire snapped through the skin, savagely assaulting the already
bruised windpipe.
Within mere seconds, Destang had snuffed out her life and the life of her unborn baby….
Breathing heavily, Destang cast the body away from him, feeling like a trapped animal.
Outside, Jason heard a thud then he could hear nothing more and, fearing the worst, whipped out his gun and
fired three shots in rapid succession to the lock he'd installed himself. In the apartment,
Destang mentally composed himself, slipping his own gun from its holster, knowing he
would have only a few precious seconds to act. Morgan would be cautious on entering,
but he had cut the lights and it would take a few seconds for his eyesight to adjust to the
darkness.
Anxious to save the woman he'd fancied himself in love with for more than a year, Jason
burst into the room, gun in hand. Truthfully, he'd been expecting the darkness, not the
sick cloying fear that threatened to smother him. It was his last coherent thought before
Destang materialized from the shadows behind him and savagely slammed the butt of his
gun to the back of Jason's head, and everything went black as his body heavily hit the
floor next to Courtney's.
TBC…
A/N: I apologise to anyone who was offended by the violence in this chapter. I hope you
don't think me too heartless after this chapter considering Courtney's condition. I toyed
with the idea of letting Courtney live because of her pregnancy but, honestly, I didn't
want her in the way. I know there are countless other ways I could have had her exit but it
just didn't fit in with the type of story I want to write. This will obviously have
repercussions throughout the end of this installment in the series and plays a major role in
the next part of the series: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' III: Sins of the Father (tentative
title). Please leave me a line or two, even if it is to give me a verbal ass kicking.
