Maxie would have to be blind, deaf, and completely unaware to not detect the tension filling the apartment. She was ashamed to admit that she had never been over to visit since her cousin had moved, but there were a million and one excuses she could give to explain herself. They didn't hesitate when she called and asked to come over. The tension here was almost welcomed compared to the house she had just left. Neither Mac nor Alexis was actually there, but the bitterness and fear and self-blame bled through the walls.
Robin stared blankly at the television as if she didn't care what the outcome was...even if Maxie and Patrick knew better. There was something missing in her eyes, but Maxie couldn't place it. Something was dead. She had noticed this after the attack a few months back, but at least then there had been an obvious cause. Whatever was going on now was not something that the couple felt like sharing.
Patrick gripped and released the remote in an almost rhythmic fashion. He had been the one to let Maxie in; he was the only one to really acknowledge that she had stopped by. His shoulders and neck were stiff and he made no attempt to touch Robin in any way. This left the young blonde disconcerted, because they hadn't acted this cold toward one another in almost a year.
Maxie had broached the cause of their sudden standoffishness, but they had each turned her down—Patrick with his handling of the remote and pacing of the living room and Robin with diverting eye contact and the folding of her hands. Something was wrong and the fact that she couldn't put her finger on it left Maxie feeling useless and uncomfortable. It was hard to believe being here was better than being at home.
Maxie had half-expected to see the nasty little reporter who had been stalking her since Kristina was snatched on the screen, but they were on the wrong channel. Little favors, she thought to herself. She would have to tell Ric about her. If nothing else, he might be able to distract her. Sensing that he was in hot water, he had contacted her several days in a row, his reasons varying. She hated that she looked forward the phone calls as much as she hated the downtime in-between his calls. If Robin or Patrick noticed her incessant glancing at the screen, they didn't comment.
The clock ticked purposefully, letting them know that the time was fast approaching. In just a few short minutes, she would have her little sister back. In just a few short minutes, some of the worst criminals this town had ever seen would be handed free pardons from the State. In just a few short minutes, everything was about to change.
Her cell phone chimed and she clicked on the tiny white envelope. The message spread subtly across the screen: I need to see you. It wasn't signed, but then it didn't have to be. Maxie quickly and easily excused herself from the apartment. She was a little worried when they didn't even glance up from the television.
Bouncing from one foot to another, Emily glanced once again at her watch. Any second now, it would all be worth it. Her brother would be free and the entire country would see him walk out of Holscomb Prison not only a free man, but with the full pardon of the governor. She nearly shook in her excitement. The day Jason had been sentenced by that judge Alexis had so clearly bribed she had vowed to get him out of this. Sonny had failed him. Carly was dead. The rest of his so-called friends had abandoned him but she wouldn't.
If it hadn't have been for Alexis Davis's ridiculous obsession with destroying everything connected to Sonny Corinthos it wouldn't have taken her so long. But because that bitch couldn't bear to see Sonny happy with someone else, she felt the need to destroy all things Corinthos, even if she completely fabricated the evidence. Just like she did with Jason. Jason loved children. He wasn't capable of doing those things she accused him of. Even now, Emily couldn't force herself to even think the words Alexis had thrown around in court. Alexis Davis had tainted her brother's good name with her neurotic obsessions. At the age of fifteen, sitting there as the judge sentenced her brother to life in prison for a crime he did not commit, Emily learned what it really was to hate someone. All thanks to Alexis Davis.
She had foolishly pinned her hopes on the justice system and Sonny. But those bimbo lawyerettes Sonny had always insisted on hiring proved once again they were not appreciated for their legal skills. Alexis and Mac Scorpio had been able to defeat their every argument. Then by some stupidity of his own design, Sonny had been arrested and met the same fate. Overnight the entire focus of the lawyerettes switched from getting Jason out to saving Sonny's bacon, a job they did about as well as the first one.
Seeing Alexis and Mac be heralded in the press as heroes, being honored for their "good work" made her physically ill. They were thieves who destroyed her family in one fell swoop. Her mother and father only were concerned with outward appearances, only paying attention when she screwed up. Her grandfather looked at her and saw her stock, her position on the board, the power her name carried the more famous she became and the better caliber of men she dated. Without Jason, there was no one who saw her as just Emily.
At first she had been content to merely publicly humiliate them. Take away the only thing people cared to remember about them. Use her friends and lovers to swing the type of influence and power they would never know. Defeat them with the only thing she had, her family's money. It hadn't been hard to convince people to help, especially the men. She had discovered early on a man would promise her anything if sex was only hinted at. The ones who took longer to convince weren't worth her time. Patrick had been the exception. Falling in love with him hadn't been part of the plan. Of course if he had just realized he loved her back, it would have been so much easier. But no matter. Once Jason was home, she could concentrate fully on Patrick.
After all it wasn't as if Robin would be able to give him the attention he deserved. Not with her being distracted by Morgan. And that was why Patrick needed someone just like her who could put him first. She would just have to remind him of that. Playing house was fun for a few months, even she had lived with Nik for a few weeks there, but that was wall it was. Brief fun.
Robin having custody of Morgan had been a stroke of good fortune. She could eliminate her competition and make Alexis and Mac pay for their destruction. Destroying one family would have been too easy, but for them to be the destruction of two? It was poetic justice.
It would have gone perfectly to plan if Logan hadn't tried to work out his own family issues on her time. No matter. She scanned the crowd, trying to spot him in his disguise. Not trusting Alexis to follow her instructions to the letter, she had Logan posted in a guard uniform down in the yard. The first sign of a double cross, Logan had his instructions. Run for Jason and get her brother out. Seeing him stand in the spot she had told him to, directly to the left of the press core, she breathed a small sigh of relief and concentrated on the door.
She was close enough to see the slight movement of the door opening, but even if she wasn't the flurry of camera flashes and the rush of the press would have tipped her off. Opening fully, two uniformed guards stood before the crowd, singularly unimpressed by the attention and impressive in their size and bulk. Obviously the prison officials had chosen their biggest guards for this duty, in an attempt to keep the press under control. They moved out the door slowly, allowing for two more guards to squeeze past before the first of the four prisoners stepped one foot outside the door.
Jermaine Heridia appeared first, a cruel smile gracing his olive tone skin. Emily smirked as she realized they must be releasing the men in order of her demands. Wonders never did cease, she mused; Alexis may have actually listened for once. Flashing gang signs and the tattoos with his victims names that covered his arm towards the camera, he blew a kiss at Kate Howard as he passed her by, clearly delighting in her uncomfortable squirm. She had chosen Heridia for one reason and one reason only, to prove there were men far worse than her brother in jail. While the public panicked over the whereabouts of a serial killer, she could quietly return to Canada with her brother and take care of the children.
Two more guards exited before Stan Johnson entered her eye sight, blinking in the glare of the flashbulbs. With his slim build and dreadlocked hair, there was nothing intimidating in Stan's physical appearance. But his skill with the computer made him lethal. His talents would come in handy for tracking the money Alexis still had to pay her. He would be able to trace and confuse any tracker the former DA tried to put on the transfer.
Benito Goodman was a risk because of his past involvement with Sonny and Jason. He was the only proof the PCPD had that Corinthos-Morgan Imports had smuggled in drugs from Cuba and surrounding islands. He was the only one who had ever hinted that he might be willing to testify against the mobsters for a lesser sentence. His importance to Alexis and her vendetta against Sonny alone made him valuable to Emily. With a full pardon, he would have no reason to cooperate with law enforcement. Besides, if all hell broke loose, he was a big guy and would provide a lot of cover for the more important people such as herself and her brother.
Emily felt her heart speed up as Jason finally took his first steps to freedom. His hair looked terrible and clearly their first stop was going to be a barber, Emily reasoned but other than that, he still looked wonderful to her. His face remained as calm as ever, a welcome sign to her his years behind bars had not changed him at all. His blue eyes scanned the crowd, most likely assessing for threats before he would take the few steps that separated them and allow himself to be happy. That was her brother, always thinking of others before himself, she thought proudly.
He met her eyes across the shabby pavement and his eyes registered a few moments of alarm. He must not have been expecting her. It was amazing how much time she had devoted to obsessing over him, what he might be doing, what he might be having for dinner, if he would ever complete that book he had promised the press upon entering Holscomb Prison. The two years she had spent away from him had not been wasted, though. She had managed to put her shaky life back together and she had him to thank for it; it was amazing how effective a drive hate could be.
It was unnerving that he still hadn't been blamed for all of his crimes, one in particular: the one that involved her six-year-old son. The cops had never put together enough evidence to make the case, but she had gathered all the knowledge she needed over the last couple of years. She wouldn't take it to the police, because they had made the mistake of encouraging her to move on with her life.
She made certain to convey the message she wanted with her eyes; her lips moved in a slow motion so that he wouldn't be confused. A thin, emotionless smile lit her coconut cream features, but didn't quite reach the dead walnut brown of her eyes. She enjoyed seeing the fear that filled his soulless blue eyes, remembering not too long ago when they had been filled with a steady arrogance. He had told her over and over again that he had nothing to do with what happened to Vincent; she could still hear his unwavering denial when she stopped by the shooting range after work. She had a license for the gun she carried, the one that felt as familiar as a loving hand in her right palm. The first few nights after Vincent's brutal murder she hadn't been able to sleep and Jason had comforted her with lies about how he would find the person responsible and make them pay. To think that she could have prevented it all if she had just kept him away from her only child.
Samantha McCall pulled the gun from her purse in a practiced motion to eliminate anyone else from seeing what she was doing. They were sardine-packed around the prison so it wasn't like they would figure it for a weapon. The silver .357 Magnum was amazingly weightless in her hand; she would have one chance and one chance only. The guards didn't deter her; could anything at this point? God Himself could reach down from Heaven and she wouldn't rethink what she knew she had to do. I failed Vincent before, but I won't do it again. Startled glances in her direction proved that she had said the words aloud. Her eyes wide, she forced the weapon into the back of her gray-blue jeans and covered it with her shirt, smiling at the worried crowd. "I'm trying out for a part on a soap opera."
He must have signaled his sister over, because suddenly the young woman was standing in Samantha's line-of-sight and she had a momentary lapse of judgment. The Quartermaine heiress had picked the wrong place to stand however; Samantha could aim at her shoulder and the bullet would go straight through Jason's heart. Retrieving the gun, she lifted it and fired two shots into the intended targets. One blink later, Emily was on the ground and Jason appeared unaffected. The guards responded as she had assumed they would and pulled out their own weapons, shouting at each other and asking the crowd where the shot had come from. Samantha dropped to her knees and weaved in-between the crowd thinking to herself, I still have two bullets left.
Logan's orders were to protect Jason, but he felt something mirroring empathy when he watched the damage the bullet had done to Emily's right shoulder. Jason was bent over her with the intention of holding up her head, but he must not have realized he was still wearing handcuffs because he had no problem strangling his sister. He was suddenly running toward them and didn't know why. Something shot out and caught his right ankle sending him prematurely to the ground so that his face slammed into the concrete.
"JASON!" Emily squealed as she tried to roll onto her back. Their combined hands were pressed solidly to her shoulder and she noticed that the bullet hadn't hit her in the shoulder at all, but in the side of the neck. Struggling to breathe as she choked on her own sticky blood, she looked up at her brother, her idol, and couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. This didn't stop her from trying to speak.
"Get these off of me!" Jason ordered, snatching the handcuff keys and freeing his hands. Cradling her head in his callused hands, he felt tears push to the front of his eyes. "Emily, just hold on. Somebody call an ambulance!"
A shot rang through the air and his body was thrown backwards into the chained linked fence. Having had the breath knocked out of him, he saw Emily at his feet, her eyes glazed over. He knew she wasn't dead because the harsh choking filled his ears. He put his hands over his ears and rocked back and forth. The gestured gave Samantha another shot at his heart. This time she didn't miss. His hands were slow to find the wound and he wasn't that surprised when no one rushed to help either of them. He wished longingly for his lockbox, the one he had kept at the top of his closet.
A stranger appeared to be standing in his shadow; he was quickly losing his grasp on perception. "Help Emily." Jason mouthed desperately, blood seeping through his fingers.
"Do I look like a miracle worker to you?" Logan challenged sardonically. "I can't bring people back from the dead."
"She's not dead! She's not! Don't talk about Carly that way!" Jason threatened through chattering teeth. "She's my only friend."
Kate Howard ran a quick hand through her perfect hair and waited until the camera was facing her. With a practiced air of sympathy, she announced to her viewers the most groundbreaking news this town had ever seen, "Jason Morgan is dead."
Officer Janet DiMero shook her head at the scene unfolding in front of her on the Port Charles Police Department's small TV kept on the reception desk. The Commissioner was not going to be happy about this one. It had been no secret the pardons had been a part of the ransom demand. Now with Morgan and his sister dead, at least two of the other men severely wounded and chaos all around who knew if the perps would contact again.
With a world-weary sigh, she closed her blue eyes and flipped off the set. She might as well get ready now, she reasoned. As soon as the bullets stopped flying in the prison yard the press was heading for one place, the PCPD and her desk. It was going to be up to her to divert the reporters to correct press room and practice the many different ways to say "No comment." Momentarily pausing to secure her blonde hair in the bun she wore during working hours, Janet began to put away the various reports that she had strewn across the desk.
The cool breeze was the only indication she had the door had been opened. Whoever entered the building had made no noise, which was eliminated most of the members of the press and the squad. No dramatic cry for help accompanied the entrance, so Janet didn't bother to look up right away. It obviously wasn't an emergency. The people in this town had a weakness for the dramatic.
A discrete cough caused her to look up for the first time. As the three figures became clear in her sight, Janet DiMero gasped and dropped every piece of paper she held in her hand. A disheveled Lulu Spencer stood before her, holding Morgan Corinthos Scorpio with one hand and Kristina Davis with the other. Lulu offered up a smile to the other woman.
"Hi. I think you are looking for us."