Show: General Hospital

Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos' II: Chapter 34

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Every time I write a violent chapter for my story, I always cringe when I hit the 'upload' button on I worry that the violence may be too graphic, that I might offend someone and that they will stop reading or (gasp) that they'll report me for abuse and I'll be kicked off the site. I'm happy to report, however, that the only complaints I've been getting are the ones about me taking too long to post and hoping that I type fast, lol. Thanks. The reason the chapters are so violent is because, they are in the Mob, and Mob vendettas aren't pretty – anyone who's seen 'The Godfather' series would know what I'm talking about. Readers are warned – it won't get prettier. If this sort of material offends you, you shouldn't read it.

X-X-X-X-X

Hour seven

Destang checked his watch. Two hours had passed since he'd gotten his orders from Taggliatti, two hours since he'd executed them.

In those two hours, he'd watched Jason Morgan's disposition deteriorate. There was blood everywhere. It was dripping from his arms and from the gaping wound across his midsection. Destang had been careful. The wound had not been deep enough to gut Jason but it was bleeding profusely; with each second that passed, more and more of Morgan's life essence dripped uselessly onto the damp floor of his cell. He was growing steadily paler and had begun to shiver in his chair. His head lolled boneless and his ice-blue eyes had become glazed with pain.

Still he said nothing. Aside from his initial scream when Destang had dragged the knife across his flesh, he hadn't made another sound. Destang found himself in perverse admiration of the man and, not for the first time, wondered if Jason Morgan really was a robot.

Destang glanced at his watch again. He had less than seven hours before he lost one arm, just over nine before he lost the other. A smirk crossed his lips… that was of course, if he didn't bleed out before then.

X-X-X-X-X

"I need a cigarette," Detective Alex Garcia announced, pacing back and forth in the hotel room they'd acquired for their surveillance.

His partner Marcus Taggert glanced at him in surprise. "I thought you'd quit."

"I did, but this waiting for Taggliatti to fly the coop has me climbing the walls," he admitted, dragging a hand through his wavy dark hair.

"Oh," Taggert grunted in reply. He, too, was nervous. His hands literally twitched with the desire to pick up Taggliatti, but he knew that if they acted prematurely, they might never find Morgan. He didn't like the man, couldn't stand him in fact, but he didn't want to have his death on his conscience.

The two were alone in the room. Mac hadn't returned and the marshals had escorted Lyle to his safe house about an hour ago, whilst Taggliatti had been lounging in the living room in his suite.

Taggert tapped his pen against the workstation where the surveillance screens were set up and took a sip of his fifth cup of coffee. On the screen, he saw Delano Taggliatti down a couple more scotch and sodas before heading into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he emerged, steam billowing behind him, a white towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair still dripping. He headed for the closet and pulled out a sharp looking dark grey suit and a crisp white dress shirt, no tie. As he dressed and sat to put on his socks and shoes, Taggert grimaced – Taggliatti's suit alone was probably worth two months of his pay.

He's a narcissistic bastard, Taggert observed, watching as Taggliatti gave his dapper appearance more than a cursory glance of approval in the bedroom's full-length mirror. He half expected Delano to blow a kiss at his reflection, or strike a GQ pose. Taking note of his observations, Taggert filed them away in his mind for his inevitable confrontation with him.

"Looks like he's getting ready to head out," he announced, watching as Taggliatti gathered his cellphone, a set of keys and placed a laptop computer into a snazzy looking crocodile skin briefcase.

"Team one, Taggliatti's on the move. Keep on him," Garcia instructed into his walkie-talkie, coming up behind his partner as they watched Delano exit the room.

"Copy that," was Marsha's reply from downstairs in the lobby.

"Let's go," Taggert suggested, grabbing his jacket.

X-X-X-X-X

"I make her," Francis pointed discreetly at the woman sitting on one of the lounges in the lobby. She had a perfect vantage point – she could see whoever came and went in the elevator or the stairs and whoever left the building through the front door. "She hasn't turned a page of that newspaper in the past ten minutes."

"Maybe she's a slow reader," Adam replied, checking out the woman in the corner of his eye.

Francis frowned and shook his head. "She's a cop. Gino was right, something's up."

The two men turned at the sound of footsteps heading towards them and found one of their counterparts, the mini giant Gino, heading towards them. "I slipped the concierge a twenty. She says that Daniel Toreno has been registered for the last two days. When he went to get his key he told her he would be checking out later this afternoon. He's gonna bolt, Francis. For another twenty, she admitted that the PCPD booked a room about four hours ago, called the manager, served a warrant and bugged Toreno's room."

"So basically, they know that bastard's every move," Francis surmised. His fists instinctively clenched. Knowing how close Taggliatti had come to his charge in the last few hours had a fire boiling in his gut. He wanted some payback for Elizabeth and for all the havoc he had wreaked in the past few weeks. But in order for them to do that, they had to get to Taggliatti before the PCPD picked him up.

Before he could voice his opinion, however, the lady cop folded her paper and made a show of digging through her purse. Just as she did so, Daniel Toreno/Delano Taggliatti, strode past her, heading toward the front door.

Her lips began moving ever so slightly, confirming Francis's suspicion as he flipped open his cellphone. "He's moving, Marco, follow the bastard," he instructed.

X-X-X-X-X

"Something's up," Alexis announced, as Elizabeth quietly shut the door to the room where Zico and Kristina were currently napping.

"What makes you say so?" Liz asked her mother, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

"I just know it, Elizabeth," she replied, as they made their way downstairs into the living room. "My gut tells me so. Your uncle knows, which means your father knows and neither of them is telling us what's going on."

"Wait," Elizabeth paused her mother with a restraining hand on her arm. "Do you think they have a lead on where Jason is?" she asked, the hope in her voice barely disguised.

"Not only do I think they have a lead on where Jason is, but I think they might actually know who is doing all of this," Alexis continued, thinking of Ric's abrupt departure. "And instinct tells me, it has something to do with Daniel Toreno."

X-X-X-X-X

A shiny black sedan was waiting for him as he left the lobby. Destang was behind the wheel and Delano tossed his briefcase in before him and slid into the luxury of the soft leather interior.

"How is he?" he asked, without preliminaries.

"Bleeding out, slowly but surely," was Destang's quiet reply, as he pulled into the busy traffic.

"Good." Delano took the laptop from the briefcase, logged on to the Internet and quickly accessed a site. "I'm wiring the money into your account now," he told Destang. "Check your phone for confirmation."

Sure enough five minutes later, there was an electronic beep and a message on his cellphone that fifty thousand dollars had just been wired into his account. Destang's grin was sinister. "I'm sure Corinthos thinks that his baby sister was worth more than fifty grand."

Delano echoed his grin. "I'm sure."

Destang's cold brown eyes met his employer's in the rearview mirror. "I could put Morgan out of his misery for another hundred grand," he proposed, ever the businessman.

"I'm sure you would, and the temptation is indeed great but Morgan, he's all mine."

"Suit yourself," Destang replied. "The gun's in the packet slot in front of you," he instructed.

"No need for it," Delano said softly. "I paid a visit to a friend of mine. I've decided to go the medicinal way."

Not even wanting to speculate on what that could mean for Jason, Destang said nothing, concentrating on the road, driving just below the speed limit so not to draw more attention to the already sleek noticeable car. As was habit, he continually alternated between glancing into the rearview mirror to the traffic behind and the road in front. His eyes narrowed as he glanced into the rearview mirror. "I think we're being followed," he announced quietly.

"What?" Delano looked back quickly.

"Don't look!" Destang hissed in caution. "That car's been following us since we left the hotel. It's got unmarked police car written all over it."

"Why the fuck would they be following me…? Lyle! That fucker! He's a dead man!" was Delano's fiery outburst. "Lose 'em!" he practically screamed in command.

"Already on it," he replied. They had been approaching an amber light but, instead of slowing, Destang hit the gas, slipped in front a yellow minivan and a blue compact and through the lights. He grinned - they'd slipped past the cops but, basking in the glow of having outfoxed the cops, he didn't see that the rider of the silver and blue Kawasaki ninja-bike that had also sped through the lights behind him had stuck a tracking device onto the back bumper of the sedan.

"Got him," Marco said, popping a wheelie before turning right and heading back downtown.

"Good work," Johnny replied from a black SUV sitting behind the PCPD cars in traffic. "We'll take it from here."

Sonny nodded curtly in the backseat as he slipped the loaded magazine into his gun.

X-X-X-X-X

"Damnit! We lost him!" Taggert cursed.

"He made us," Garcia pointed out the obvious.

"We gotta catch him!" Taggert said, reaching beneath his seat for the siren.

"What the hell are you doing?" Garcia asked. "If we flash it to the world we're lookin' we'll never find him!"

"He already knows we're looking!"

"If you do that, he'll never lead us to Morgan!"

Taggert grit his teeth and smacked the dashboard in frustration.

"Go, the light's green," Garcia instructed. "Calm down, Marcus. He's most likely heading for the docks. We'll catch up to him there!"

"The docks cover ten fucking square miles! It'll be like looking for a needle in a haystack! You're right, Alex," he continued sarcastically, "we don't need to follow them cause, Taggliatti's gonna disappear like smoke and we can just wait a few days before someone complains that the docks smell like decomp because Jason Morgan will be dead!"

TBC…

A/N: I became blocked after this and I didn't want to wait too long to get this chapter out. I hope you enjoyed, so click that pretty blue button in the bottom left corner and tell me what you thought!

Cara